[Verse 1: Lloyd Banks]

Yeah, twenty miles an hour in my long Bentley

Shame on you hater, this what the Lord sent me

Shit lately I’ve been practicing my gas face

Cause that’s what I’ma give 'em when they land in last place

Hand right by the hammer, ain't too many seein Santa

So they wanna take my gifts, but I wrap em with the fif'

My regular scent is piff, currency, and Cashmere

You done drove your bitch away, I told her she can crash here

Yeah I’m counting paper like the cashier

Living like I’m limited, breathing like it’s my last air

My boy in and out the box, super stupid soldier

Told me if he could do it again he’d do it over

Poverty’s king cobra, squeeze your life out

Cause it's the fatalities and causalities I should write ’bout

These rappers ain’t iced out, they just fooling niggas

Running round town fakers, zirconian cubic niggas

[Chorus: Lloyd Banks]

Only money matters in the game, fuck the fame

I gotta eat dollar signs, feed my hunger pain

Music like heroin, leave you numb the same

Play me like I’m something sweet, be apart of summer slaying

Most hated, most doubted, that's what they shouted

I’m on top now, there’s nothing they can do about it

Y'all better have y'all guns

Cause walking where I’m from, there ain't no way around it

Home sweet home

[Verse 2: Pusha T]

You motherfuckers can rap 'til you blue in the face

You’ll probably turn into smurfs with the time that you waste

Throughout history they thrown shots at the greats

But I shoot back, the Lord ain't designed me for hate

I’ve never understood Martin Luther with the speech

With the whole world watching me, turn the other cheek?

Never, so there’s one left to die in the streets

Cause his long arms happen to connect with his reach

Try to kill you then, them near misses was God’s kisses

True Hollywood Story, ghetto Todd Bridges

Diff'rent Strokes that nigga broke, this nigga rich

You only read about the cars that I paddle shift

You only dream about the hoes that I dabble with

Balcony views like a postcard, imagine this

White stones, black steel, cold chrome

This city’s my doormat, bitch I'm home sweet home

[Chorus: Lloyd Banks]

Only money matters in the game, fuck the fame

I gotta eat dollar signs, feed my hunger pain

Music like heroin, leave you numb the same

Play me like I’m something sweet, be apart of summer slaying

Most hated, most doubted, that's what they shouted

I’m on top now, there’s nothing they can do about it

Y'all better have y'all guns

Cause walking where I’m from, there ain't no way around it

Home sweet home

[Verse 3: Lloyd Banks]

Niggas see me where you see me, shit I'm always seen

Off the Queens magazines, pissy hallway scenes

Paying crowds, hunger screams, pressure crumbles teams

Fuck being humble in the jungle where they fumble dreams

Drugs for the living, Henny payment for the body

Crosses for the power, ghetto bitches for the smiley

Pitbull, I bit my way out the cage, whats happening?

Competition got me on the Rampage, Jackson

Part of my reaction to they corny ass raps

Keep flirting with death and get your horny ass clapped

Back for more me, rat tat, kiss the ring, beat respect out them

Bloody heads, turn Timberlands to red bottoms

Fifty bottles just a start now that's how you do it

Carbon fiber through the Spyder playing "Ryder Music"

Ain't no question of my resume, I gotta prove it

Life’s a bitch and I get blowjobs reclinin' through it

[Chorus: Lloyd Banks]

Only money matters in the game, fuck the fame

I gotta eat dollar signs, feed my hunger pain

Music like heroin, leave you numb the same

Play me like I’m something sweet, be apart of summer slaying

Most hated, most doubted, that's what they shouted

I’m on top now, there’s nothing they can do about it

Y'all better have y'all guns

Cause walking where I’m from, there ain't no way around it

Home sweet home