[Produced by Swizz Beatz]
[Intro: Jay-Z & DMX]
Turn the lights all the—turn the lights all the way down (Yeah)
What? (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Uh-huh, yeah (Uh)
C’mon, uh-huh, such a deep flow (Grrr…)
C’mon, yeah, c’mon, yo, yo
[Verse 1: Jay-Z]
J-A-Y, I flow sick (Uh)
Fuck all y’all haters, blow dick
I spits the game for those that throw bricks
Money, cash, hoes, money, cash, chicks (What?)
Sex, murder and mayhem; romance for the street (Uh-huh)
Only wife of mines is a life of crime, and since
Life’s a bitch in mini-skirts and big chest
How can I not flirt with death?
That’s life’s enigma, long as life within us
We gon’ sin a lot and pray that Christ forgive us, fuck it
Ice the wrist and raise the price on these niggas
Y’all can’t floss on my level
I’ll invite you all to get with us if your ball is glitter
When I go, on the hall of players, wall my picture (Uh-huh)
If you get close enough, you can read the scripture
It reads: “Money, cash, hoes”, how real was that nigga? (What)
[Chorus: Jay-Z & DMX]
Money, cash, hoes, money, cash, hoes (What)
Money, cash, hoes, money, cash, hoes (Uh)
Money, cash, hoes, money, cash, hoes (C’mon)
Money, cash, hoes, (What) hoes, (What) hoes (What)
Money, cash, hoes, money, cash, hoes (What)
Money, cash, hoes, money, cash, hoes (Uh)
Money, cash, hoes, money, cash, hoes (C’mon)
Money, cash, hoes, (What) hoes, (What) hoes (What)
[Verse 2: Jay-Z]
Flavors robust, platinum and gold touch
Yeah I rap now, fast money done slowed up
Niggas try to stop Jay-Z to no luck
Roc-A-Fella forever, CEO, what! (what?)
Us the villains? Fuck your feelings
While y’all playa hate we in the upper millions
What’s the dealings? (huh) It’s like New York’s been soft
Ever since Snoop came through and crushed the buildings
I’m trying to restore the feelings; fuck the law, keep dealing
More money, more cash, more chilling
I know they gon’ criticize the hook on this song
Like I give a fuck…I’m just a crook on this song
Bed-Stuy Brook-Nam took on the world
Shit, I led a life you can write a book on
Sex, murder and mayhem, romance for the street
Man, and I tell ya, it’ll be the best-seller, what!
[Chorus: Jay-Z & DMX]
Money, cash, hoes, money, cash, hoes (What)
Money, cash, hoes, money, cash, hoes (Uh)
Money, cash, hoes, money, cash, hoes (C’mon)
Money, cash, hoes, (What) hoes, (What) hoes (What)
Money, cash, hoes, money, cash, hoes (What)
Money, cash, hoes, money, cash, hoes (Uh)
Money, cash, hoes, money, cash, hoes (C’mon)
Money, cash, hoes, (What) hoes, (What) hoes (What)
[Verse 3: DMX]
D-M-X and my dogs bite
Jigga, my nigga, rhyme all night
Thugs for life, one night with this rap shit
Let ’em go and I bet they know what’ll happen
When we clap shit
Acting like we owe ’em something
Then we show ’em something
Talking greasy, I think they found ’em down the road or something (Wooh)
Fucking with a mad man in a bad mood
Is like fucking with a mad dog that wants mad food
And the only thing that’s stopping him is you (WHAT!)
So the only thing that he’ll be dropping is you (WHAT!)
Chomping in two (COME ON!)
Then he drop it to Clue, and the response from the street:
This is one dog that loves raw meat (Woo!)
But getting back to, just ’cause I, love my niggas
I shed blood, for my niggas
Let a nigga holla, “Where my niggas?”
All I’ma hear is, “Right here my nigga!”
[Chorus: Jay-Z & DMX]
Money, cash, hoes, money, cash, hoes (What)
Money, cash, hoes, money, cash, hoes (Uh)
Money, cash, hoes, money, cash, hoes (C’mon)
Money, cash, hoes, (What) hoes, (What) hoes (What)
Money, cash, hoes, money, cash, hoes (What)
Money, cash, hoes, money, cash, hoes (Uh)
Money, cash, hoes, money, cash, hoes (C’mon)
Money, cash, hoes, (What) hoes, (What) hoes (What)
[Outro: Jay-Z]
Roc-A-Fella shit
Uh huh uh huh, Ruff Ryders
Pa-pause
My nigga Swizz
Uh huh, uh huh
Don’t stop, beatch
Uh, uh huh, yeah
Respect the game yo
[Interlude: Pain In Da Ass]
Okay okay okay, so now the guy’s working for Jay-Z
Making hot songs
But any type of trouble he gets in, he runs to Jay-Z
Trouble with the label, he calls Jay-Z
But he still has to come up with Jay-Z’s money every week no matter what
Not selling any records, fuck you pay me
Oh you want me in your video, fuck you pay me
No one’s coming to your shows huh, fuck you pay me
And then what do you do when you can’t borrow another dollar from the label?
You can’t sell any singles in the stores?
You light a match….you blow the joint *explosion*
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