Mafia Music

I got a feeling, **** really, that my money be the root

Look up at the stars, she like, "Honey, where the roof?"

Pull up, hear the dogs, Canaries, they going woof

Even once had a job pouring tar up on that roof

That boy had it hard, no facade, it's the truth

So now when I menage and get massaged it's the proof

Proof's in the puddin' and that baking soda takin'

Paper that I'm makin' got her taking photos naked

Listenin' to **** like whistling at Wendy Williams

I flip my middle finger, I'm chilling on twenty million

The rumors turn me on, I'm masturbatin' at the top

These hoes so excited so they catching every drop

I'm dodging debacles like potholes in Jamaica

We cut down the weed, bury the paper on the 'maicas

Martin had a dream, Bob got high

I still do both but somehow I got by

Creflo prayed, Mike Vick paid

Bobby Brown stray, Whitney lost weight

Kimbo Slice on the pad when I write

That Mayweather money lookin' funny in the light

But who really cares? We just throw it in the air

Celebratin' wealth, pourin' Moet in her hair

Excuse me, her weave, the bluest of weed

Trunk full of white, car smell like blue cheese

That boy get salad, beef bowel movements

BM dubs on them big thangs looking foolish

Shorty sittin' low, big things popping

Tip on the Glock from a Crip up in Compton

Shootin' at the cops, fuck one-time

I gave her to the block, I fucked one time

We Boyz N the Hood and ****, you're Lil' Tre

Suppress ya appetite, we takin' ya lil tray

Love my handgun, but my chopper still the shit

Banned in 1994 but I'm 2 Legit 2 Quit

1996, kilos was the shit

But that was better than roofing, that shit be bad for ya skin

**** was ruthless, Lord knows that I sin

But I thought about my future and the loops I could pin

Walked out on the gig and I turned to the streets

Kept my name low-key, I ain't heard from in weeks

I came up with a strategy to come up mathematically

I did it for the city but now everybody mad at me

Motherfuck 'em all, they sweat from my balls

If I drop another album, I did that for my dogs

Ten Maybachs, e'rybody ridin' big

I just sit back like, look what I did

Then I bow my head and beg for forgiveness

Once I say my prayer, everybody back to business

Smokin' on a blunt in my own restaurant

People lookin' from a distance think I'm Big Daddy Conch

Reincarnated, spirit of a G

Beef'll make you thinner, take a seat so we can eat

A Farrakhan aura, pause on the pork

You eat from the bowl while your dog need a fork

**** ain't loyal, snakes slithered in they coil

I'm laughing at you cuz, kill you **** when I'm bored

We steppin' on you crew till them motherfuckers crush

And makin' sweet love to every woman that ya lust

I love to pay your bills, can't wait to pay your rent

Curtis Jackson baby mama, I ain't askin' for a cent

Burn the house down, ****, you gotta buy another

Don't forget the gas can, jealous, stupid motherfucker

To another chapter, paper that I capture

Caught up in the rapture of gunshots and laughter

Homicide is humor and **** you lookin' funny

Women love to stare 'cause they know they see the money

I open up her mind by opening bank accounts

Deposit a hunnid stacks, break-up, won't take it out

Baby that's a gift, maybe you could live

I knew it wouldn't work, but I just like to give

Used to run the street, young **** bare feet

Now I'm in the suites and I'm eatin' crab meats

Ice so right, other rappers envy

They callin' all my jewelers up askin' what he spendin'

Thinkin' 'bout Boss, not thinkin' 'bout them

This a letter to my enemies, one I won't send, Amen