Ahhhhhhh yesss, ah-heh
 Tell me somethin
 Were you, about to make a decision?
 Was it, one of... THOSE decisions?
 Ya know, when ya, gotta decide, between
 what's good, for you, and what's good, for the struggle
 Well before you sellout, The Coup wants to tell you a lil' story
 E-Roc, kick it
 [E-Roc]
 Pressure, is gettin to my dome
 See, I need some food for my little boy's tummy
 Pulled up a chair just to think about my situation
 Don't have a job, cause jackin is the occupation
 FUCK THE SYSTEM, you know that it's all wrong
 I got my gauge, yeah now my mission's on
 Checked on my baby, good he was sound asleep
 Cause money was my thoughts as I began to creep
 down the street the corner sto', was on my mind
 Freeze! with the sounds of clips was in my behind
 I turned around but befo' I could pull my trigger
 in they ass, on the ground, laid another nigga
 I was trippin, slippin labelled as a dummy
 But can you blame me, I did it for da mo-ah-money
 *chorus*
 M-O-N, N-E-Y (repeat 2X)
 Broke as a; broke as a sucka!
 (repeat all 4X)
 [E-Roc]
 Back on the streets I thought I wouldn't survive
 So I'm bustin my ass on this nine to five
 Flippin patties all day when the place is hot
 Gettin paid peanuts, in the burger shop
 Now everybody wants to know the deal, is this brother real
 can I feed my family off of a Happy Meal?
 I had to stop cause this shit ain't for E-Roc
 I threw down my time card and started slangin rocks
 For a brother dis is some'in you can't beat
 My cash is flowin, now I'm bringin home the meat
 I'm feelin good sellin crack to a fiend
 Don't give a fuck about his luck, ya know what I mean?
 People trip, but they don't understand that
 a devil's land, ain't no black foe a black man
 Now it's a shame, but who's to blame?
 I got a baby with a life and no future to gain, yeah the money
 *chorus*
 [E-Roc]
 I remember the time when I was six
 The American Dream was everybody gets, rich
 But yo, a fact for all to know
 Four hundred years has passed, and we still po'
 He ain't my Uncle, but Sam know what he's talkin about
 If you wanna get paid, sell your people out
 But not me I'd rather do a crime
 Deep in my rhyme; is it better for a black man to do time?
 To the red white and blue I don't give a fuck
 Because I live and die, just to make a buck
 So I'm that mother-fucker
 That rob his daddy, and threw his ass in the gutter
 And I'm that fool
 that sold his kids cocaine at school
 But Jack's an attorney
 So I'ma do what I do, cause he's makin all the motherfuckin...
 *gun shots*
 [Boots]
 I believe.. truthfully, we all gonna die someday
 So, die hustlin for yourself
 or die hustlin for millions of your people
 The choice is yours, choose your fate
 You can get with this, or you can get with that
 We out
 *chorus