[Intro: Kool G Rap] - x2
Still on this paperchase
Load the stacks up in the safe
Cause champagne tastes with beer money don't cut the cake
Me and my peoples play for high stakes
Look out for FBI jakes, turn up the ? case and place me upstate
[Verse 1: Kool G Rap]
But yo its all legal
Every last printed bald eagle
We started out as small people now we tall and lethal
From poverty, to land properties, runnin' monopolies
We properly, sit in butter leather shit and mahogany
Call it robbery, just as long as I grab the lottery
Im tryna prospectally strictly going for jackpottery, obviously
Kool G Rap I like a lotta cheese
A novelty, models be stripping
Like the shit's pornography, the odyssey, lyrical prodigy
See my philosophy like Socrates
Logically cats follow me catastrophically
Apostle G
Your role model be and anything less is just a S.O and S. with the apostrophe
Fuck all that hypocrisy
You know who doctored these lyrics about the street shit first
Check my biography, its possibly
Cause I was ahead of my time just like a prophecy, monstrosity
Niggas wanna copy me like photography
[Hook] - x4
Ladies: It's so, It's so hot, I'm heatin' up!
Kool G Rap: Straight, bringin' the heat son!
[Verse 2: Kool G Rap]
We keep the rides flowing, the Glocks blowing, the pockets swollen
The poppy seed lye's growing, knots big as Samoans
Got cash flowing out the colon
Be on the yard dash like Jesse Owens
Tryna get strikes and riches like bowling
Keep a look out for Jakes patrolling
They hate to see niggas be straight and holding mad diamonds glowing, the paper foldin'
We rolling Kennedy Caver? status, living it lavish
Cop the shit that's as hot as a radish
Five and one quarter carats from outta Paris
My units is moving quicker than Randy Travis
A lyrical style that ravishes, creeping past all your averages
Carry my own weight, fuck extra packages
Just make sure there's a clique of savages from outta the habitat with bad habits kid!
Lift up your whole wig, get you jigged, for just one more hole in the Earth to dig
When I spit the shit from out the cig
It's nothing short from blood-sport, you get your mug torched
Listen to what the thug taught
Before you get rocked, down on the block for cops to find your blood corpse
From scud missles
That I could see, sizzle your blood and tissue
Got done by the fake ones and all the unofficials
[Hook] - x4
Ladies: It's so, It's so hot, I'm heatin' up!
Kool G Rap: Straight, bringin' the heat son!
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