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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Raekwon
Raekwon
Performer
Lyfe Jennings
Lyfe Jennings
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
C. Woods
C. Woods
Composer
Chester Jennings
Chester Jennings
Songwriter
A. Young
A. Young
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Dr. Dre
Dr. Dre
Producer

Lyrics

Where is he? Concentrating on the job Don't disturb the Doctor Yeah Word up Who said we ain't the definition of exclusive shit? Real rap, you know? Yeah, this is multi-expensive rap here brother Word up Time to recreate the power You know what it is man Nothing but gangsta shit baby Let's go Doc I need that prescription Ey yo (ey yo) I grew up on the foul side Nickel-bag valcyte Purple tops, two for fives I had seven grams Outside with my eleven mans On the corners with a pocket full of contrabands Running up and down fire-escapes, narcs coming Jump in the window let your Nikes fly, hide the flakes Guess up in the hill it was real to me What a nigga woulda did if you steal from me All my life around drug niggas villains who want millions Niggas with them hoodies on with teks in the building Mad fiends, bags and green, Gillette razors, fly neighbors All our blazers designer jeans That's why we live (yup) Niggas need shit in their crib Go broke, you go and rope you a Vick It's just full-time stragglers Niggas try to take your place And smile in your face But still in all backstabbers I'm just trying to get on Leave a couple mil to my kids when I'm gone And nigga that ain't cologne It's the smell of this money I'm just trying to get home Cuz I don't know when my karma gonna catch up I don't know when the toilet gonna back up And put me in some shit that I can't get out of Come on Bags of money Trying to stay rich and fly Keep it cool, silks and dungarees Krug glasses and food Grilled salmon, trying to make a move Those who knowing they be dapping they dudes How it do blow a lot of crews stay in the cut Pacing from here to LA and Hawaii and Cuba Blue new oozie too serial numbers is braille So when you rub against it feel on (?) Now I'm with some special niggas, next level niggas With rubber bezels who drive Exeleros with jewels (?) boots on, olive goose, calamari soups And noodles that spell out "Yall niggas the truth" What it is baby boy, reclining in a big Benz lazyboy Endsed up, lenses on, Chips Ahoy Shipping triple, niggas try to stop the issue And cock-block but can't stop the official I'm just trying to get on Leave a couple mil to my kids when I'm gone And nigga that ain't cologne It's the smell of this money I'm just trying to get home Cuz I don't know when my karma gonna catch up I don't know when the toilet gonna bck up And put me in some shit that I can't get out of
Writer(s): Andre Romell Young, Dawaun Parker, Mark Christopher Batson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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