Ninety five  keep it live
 Yeah to make papers  knahmsayin?
 Motherfuckin Kool G. Rap and B1
 and my motherfuckin man Grimm
 Just comin with somethin to keep the brainstem

 ..

 [B1]
 It's Big 1 son  Jamaica Queens is the turf
 And I'ma exploit  heaven and earth  for what it's worth
 It's the MC extrordinaire  the jewels glare
 The God is rare  I'm takin bitches back to my lair
 I want mines and yours, strippin niggaz to they drawers
 No probable cause, with the chrome double 4's
 It's the Queens New Yorker with a bulletproof parka
 In eighty-four, it was Calvins and British Walkers
 Now I'm sippin Harvey's Bristal Cream with the glock 17
 as the sirens race to the scene
 Tryin to get dough, like Pablo, today, fuck tomorrow
 Seats for carro, as I recline in Monte Carlo
 I got the game down to a science, it's the clients
 that turn small time hustlers into giants
 Three course meal, waitin for my appetizer
 Blowin like a geyser, time only makes me wiser
 Paraphenalia, and material, makes the crew imperial
 I put the fear in you, sippin beer with two
 Handlin business properly, form a monopoly
 Storefront property, if not, another robbery
 I'm puttin forth the effort, murder's the method
 The steak is peppered
 Son when I let off you meet your Lord and shepherd
 Bloody money gets niggaz deaded and wetted
 Don't forget it, money's the metal and my hand is magnetic

 Chorus: Grimm, B1

 I gotta flip these bricks
 cause bein broke drive me insane
 Money's on my motherfuckin brain
 From O-Z's to ki's
 the triple beam brings fame to my name
 Money's on my motherfuckin brain
 Niggaz be scheamin and teamin
 but still I maintain
 Money's on my motherfuckin brain
 Cause money and murder go hand in hand
 It ain't nothin but a game
 Money's on my motherfuckin brain son

 [Grimm]
 Cryin hopin God forgive me for the ones I killed
 But until still, I dry my eyes with hundred dollar bills
 Like McDonald's, makin mills servin
 Fuck a Landcruiser now, pulls a ? to Suburban
 Stressed out, sittin thinkin past bed time
 Scared can't sleep, nightmares about fed time
 Diamonds, linens, ostrich and all that
 Fat shit I'm talkin code cause my phone's tapped
 Crackheads worship me like I'm Jesus
 Uncle Sam can't stand me cause I'm fuckin all his nieces
 Cuties every colour, who I wanna fuck next?
 Buy a new car, maybe Lamborghini trunk next
 Look at the jealousy in the eyes of the roughnecks
 Bulletproof glass just in case they wanna buck Tecs
 A large ratio in this game dies
 But I'm flippin pies, til the Senate legalize

 Chorus: Grimm, G. Rap (same lines)

 [Kool G. Rap]
 I'm sportin flavors and Timbs, a ninety-five Bezn with the chrome rims
 Presedential Rolex, two carat diamonds with the stone gems
 Pockets filled with lucci leather wallets designed by Gucci
 Parlay in resteraunts, eatin shrimp, scampi and sushi
 Fly minks, with icicles that blink inside cuban links
 Lookin ?, brothers stink, got loot like I'm doin banks
 Hundred dollar bottles of chammy, condos in Miami
 Front row seats up at the Grammy's, the broke niggaz can't stand me
 Hold the flame low, hotel suites inside the Flamingo
 Just home by the dingos, I step up in em rockin Kangols
 Straight up fakin no jacks, cause all my crackshacks are jam packed
 My mad stacks, show that I'm on the right track, like Amtrak
 So stand back, cause I'ma make whatever it takes
 to shake Jakes, and shoot snakes, and bake more snowflake cakes than Drake's
 Cut up your grill like I'm the Barber of Seville
 Still like Gotti bodies are found inside the harbor cause I'm ill
 It's war, but no more kids are bein kidnapped, matter of fact
 ain't with the shit black, I was young when I did that
 There's dope in the Copa Cabanas, cock back the hammers
 So niggaz in pajamas get they wigs split like bananas
 Stable of hotties, niggaz with shotties catchin bodies
 Neighborhood John Gotti with more notes than Pavarotti
 Yeah, paid as a motherfuckin bank teller
 The Goodfella, I stay a motherfuckin drug seller

 Chorus: Grimm, G. Rap, B1 (G and B alternate)

 [ad-lib to outro