One's 4 da Money

(a.k.a, a.k.a, the rugged child)

Microphone check, one-two, one-two, yo

Microphone check, one-two, one-two, yo

Microphone check, one-two, one-two, yo

Microphone check, one-two

Chorus (x2)

One's for the money

Two's for the show

Three's for ya hooker

But we all say, HOE!

My slang and my gang blows up the concrete

Like Eric B. and Rakim

Don't sweat the technique

So you got beef?

Run on sonny go get ya posse

Cause I've got a mosse, we all wear huaraches

Then you hear me kicking, I said yo you miss Mad Rugged

They jumped on my tip, but I thought nothin' of it

Cause I let the microphone spark right after dark

And be dropping mad sales like my name was Pathmark

The rebel to society

Everyone's trying me

Looking at me strangely, damn right it amaze me

Had I did something wrong, or am I dumb?

Brothers keep stressing, no shorties the one

To make it real snappy, a little nasty-nasty

Things get pawsie-pawsie

And of to be actually

Get a little gone and still can't hold your own

On the microphone, so keep licking on that wishbone

You had your chance, but you fell out on tune

So you're hanging out with tools, now you say that rock rules

You make me laugh as your mom's get smoked

You get ate like a taffy, and read like the jokes

Flow with the flowa from the Wu-tang freestyle

You catch your bow-bow, and air to this wild child

From the Staten, the Island, the temple

Just an example how pop goes the pistol

Chorus (x2)

One's for the money

Two's for the show

Three's for ya hooker

But we all say, HOE!

Here comes the shortie with the TEC-22

But if you tell, I'm gonna blast you

From the project's worst ghetto section

Sold my bike, bought a gun for protection

Shortie do-wa, more Juice than 2Pac

Come and do with the Wu-Tang hiphop

Shortie wa-wa, short sneaky sha-sha

Goo-goo, gah-gah, now you call me poppa

I'm not a mack daddy nor am I a daddy mack

Touch my napsack, boy you gettin' pimp smacked

I've got a style, may not be familiar

It's like most way you go around and it kills ya

Who will be the next to flex and face death

Ashes to ashes, and only dust is left

Chorus (x2)

One's for the money

Two's for the show

Three's for ya hooker

But we all say, HOE!