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money - daddy rose lyrics

(amil talking)
daddy rose, cha*ching
amilion, uh*uh*uh

[amil]
mid drip reveal half*tops on it old blessed drops
every three months dealership stops to swaps
can’t drive the same sh*t too long
that’s how a b*tch get crept upon, stepped upon by anti*don
whip sh*t out, perpetrators left and gon’
and as far as getting slept up on, d*mn right i’m f*cking
reverse f*cks pop two in your nuts
bust out, chest out like who in the f*ck?
y’all n*ggas can’t do me none
switch up the look, pass, pouria susie chung
who me? i’m smarter then average wh0re?
can’t re*more to mandy moore
you playing in my ford, to land my court
just when you thought it was safe, three more in storе
[daddy rose]
uh*uh*uh, yeah, c’mon millie, what up baby?
ok, it’s daddy goddammit, ass and poppa
i like my silk crеamy like milk in my cash*ment proper
catch a b*tch creeping down my ass, blast and drop her
i’m 24*karat, dawg you brassed and copper
c*74 men*tile, spit the awesome, chop your hind
holyfield, i hold the scheme, got no time to box ya
catch you slipping in the church around your congregation
throw seven at your reverend, you wanna gamble?
you’re sweet like tevin campbell
i’m a brownsville n*gga, we tote big guns and we scramble
animals wit’ it, f*ggots stunned get beat with the handle
in ’83 i used to dance and be a vandal
spiritual insight like the prophet daniel
or like a broad wrapped in god’s obedient with the proper sandals
take the head wrap off, get down for the proper scandal
the god be the light in the candle
come to my hood iced up like frosty the snowman
you get sliced up; my n*ggas’ are wild like conan
tie up your man, and see your mamma in your hand

what? amilion baby…

[amil]
yo, i come off like a chain in a robbery
doing 90 on the hutch they call me starsky
and amil is now spelled with an apostrophe
so when you emphasize this, you do it properly
b*tch i sold out demons in all 50 states
go before i drop when they ship the crates
i get love on the block from fifth street to gates
the hate, only makes me switch the plates
if you can’t maneuver fast cars hit the brakes
keep in mind how these ?snitch*men? pick debate
amilion a/k/a angie d*ckinson (no doubt)
make n*ggas trick on me then make ’em trick on my friends
(keep it coming; keep it coming)
major point, cash out till they’re sick within (uh*huh)
cop trucks, i got the twin kidney grill with ’em
uh, you can look but you can’t touch
sorta like a crook who just can’t bust, what?
[black jesus]
where i live at * n*ggas drink 40’s and six packs
ghetto life, bet we all feel the impact
young kings hand the tent flat
queens learn to bend back and give head
wasn’t for rap would’ve been dead
streets had me mislead with no option
dro’ copping, stay, skits, beat, show stopping
rap for the streets, hoe’s watching
ask “who dat?” they call ’em eastside
he a cool cat, in other word he’s the man in charge
he the kid that you see camouflaged
used to sell crack at an abandoned cars
outer sp*ce like planet mars, bag mami’s in spanish bars
stab wounds and battle scars
challenge god and get your feelings hurt, kneel in dirt
he ain’t here to play games, he here to work
my n*ggas rap, smoke on weed like cigarettes
and vocal tones alone get chickens wet
when i blaze chicks make ’em cum, off jamaican rum
e&j, plus he the spray, we ain’t faking none, raised in the slums
hundred ways to get funds, twisted nights
h*ll knife, razors and guns, carry swiss blades
no n*gga stabbed since sixth grade
they don’t be busting them guns they’re b*tch made
jesus of rap, my degrees is in tact
violate, get a black god a reason to clap
when i spit on tracks n*ggas be like “d*mn”
sh*t on cats, vocal tones should’ve been on wax
but i maintain, always keep head above water level
every verse got a score to settle
live where you call the ghetto, project raised, saw the devil
where i’m at i’m called the rebel
just ask around about eastside, the lasting town
every verse i spit on till it be classic bound
battle jakes, slide through graph like rattlesnake
travel lake, calculate math, evaluate
my face value rate about six figures
conversate with poor folks and rich n*ggas
straight like that, uh*huh

- daddy rose lyrics

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