Big money in this bitch if you didn't knew
Big business minus the business suit
Even I look in the mirror like is it you
And I say I must be the hottest if it isn't you
Stay fresh from my top to my tennis shoes
New coop, no top, big tennis shoes
Never slipped, not even on the side of a swimming pool
We don't get rid of Q, we get rid of fools
They said, I couldn't play football, I was too small
They say, I couldn't play basketball, I wasn't tall
They say, I couldn't play baseball at all
And now every day of my life I ball
And they say it ain't raining until someone assassinated
And I feel like M L K, yeah
Yeah, I have a dream to be your worst nightmare
And now meet the boss of the cartel
I'm a seven-nine Satan, sitting on Lorenz's
And I seem really patient, picture the equation
People taking pictures and they really getting flagrant
Flagging down my spaceship, sergeant sniffing for a fragrance
Yayo, yayo, he wanna sniff the yayo, flying saucer on the hasa
In the casa just to lay-low
Make more money, man, that's the model for the mob
Need a blowjob, my model, get a model for the job
Go hard, no job, hustler, no prob, poster
Nigga what finger fuck your whole squad
Forty around spending doe, flipping for my kid flo'
Luxury tax on them packs if you didn't know
Bought a new crib, niggas feeling like I hid
3.2 but I just did it for the kids
More guns than a pawn shop, got my whole arm rocked
Keep the 760 double parked in the wrong spot
Still hustling, boss
Yeah, you gotta pay for this
I remember when I used to pray for this, this, this is classic
Some shit you might not see again
And we taxin', you don't want it nigga, leave it then
And we taxin', you don't want it nigga, leave it then
And we ain't trying to see the pen
Like a needle in a hay stack, we ain't trying to see the pen
This is a luxury tax
Yeah, imagine this, no imagine that
Gave me my sack like, good luck gettin' back, yeah
I'm like to fuck, I'm gonna get outta there
And if I'm not careful, be the same place they find him there
And I'm a winner if I make it 'cross the finish line
Putting food on the table like it's dinner time
And this is what you call stereotyping about?
Can you tell me my your dog keep sniffing my car?
Got the audacity to call me a liar
So what you got in your trunk? Oh, just a spare tire
You niggas talked blow while I sold mine
Like a bad crape, it's locking up in no time
More time in the kitchen then I spent in the studio
Case paradise and I ain't talking about Coolio
Can't lie, still addicted to the odor
Got a ice cold Pepsi but still thinking Coca Cola
Yeah, you gotta pay for this
I remember when I used to pray for this, this, this is classic
Some shit you might not see again
And we taxin', you don't want it nigga, leave it then
And we taxin', you don't want it nigga, leave it then
And we ain't trying to see the pen
Like a needle in a hay stack, we ain't trying to see the pen
This is a luxury tax
I'm up early in the morning and I'm dressed in black
Hold on, every morning I get dressed in black
While your half ass, nigga, my pants sag
I'm getting money and my swaging, black flagging
Million dollar status, fully automatic
Heavy on the Henny, even harder on the women
If it wasn't for reverend
I probably would pimpin' and shit
Pops, my papa, has already hear me
Tied trapping, shit sent me to prison
Got mad and went to snapping so homicide came to visit
I smell gun powder
So you got one hour to come up with every damn dollar
Or your dun-dolla, it cost a ball dogg
Especially, when the players on your team
Consider you as the ball hog
You treat me like Shaq
And you Kobe but I didn't say you owe me nigga
But act like you know me
Yeah, you gotta pay for this
I remember when I used to pray for this, this, this is classic
Some shit you might not see again
And we taxin', you don't want it nigga, leave it then
And we taxin', you don't want it nigga, leave it then
And we ain't trying to see the pen
Like a needle in a hay stack, we ain't trying to see the pen
This is a luxury tax