[Verse I: TABLEEK]

I want the dollars the pesos the cedes the rupies

Funds so I can clone my nuts for all the groupies

Cash i can burn on car lots of hoopties

Rear view celly for geniuses who pursue me

I build wit em till they chatter boxxx

Shadow boxin scared of they own shadow

I rock cheddar locked in

A free mind state, clock my weight

I come back weigh double no skills no debate

Left and right from the center

Since the placenta

Pimped them presidents like i had a vendetta

They offered a weigh in but that didn't fit a (nigga)

They send in goons an little killers

No matter though

Beatle bailey, beggin for a funeral

Im buckin down with mad fists of fury yo!

Wall street journal peep BLEEK in the centerfold

Piff an a bird the boss man "Yo that nigga cold"

Got mo, gidde gidde up gon get it

I'm puttin in work, that dough their we gon split it

I try to be non-stingy i dont rock fendi

Back in the day wanted a box thats benzi

So i could rock that tape i made last wednesday

Im thinkin at levels to keep the dough streak in me

Peace to flip and all the flippers thats wit me

Whether its guiness or a side show called ripley

Run the shekels, dinars, yen, plus euros

Shillings i can slide like a black superhero

Coppin sky scrappers want the paper with zeros

Getting to the mountain top on big pillows

Pressed in, north of what trump would make

In his lifetime my potential so great

Got a rusty mcnugget, flip turn to gold

Sothebys auction in 5 mintues that's sold

Whiteys be shocked they like that man so bold

You keep the checks i want the money that fold

Dead the credit, your train of thought getting old

Get off the sedatives got your brain on hold

Cough up the dough, rubles, pounds for my troubles

Keep it on the low don't put sam in bubble

Or irs to put stress on my bundles

Im tryin to pc in triples, not doubles

The monies