It's a story about two brothers  Rob and Vic
 Grew up in the world alone
 God forgot about them  hmm
 Forced to fend for themselves
 In the Rotten Apples of New York City
 This story takes place  in 1993

 How many nigs did we get so far?
 I couldn't care to count
 Just snatch em up quick
 If he scream  I'ma put him out
 I put the heat to his face to SHUT HIM UP
 so I can dig him out
 Went in his pockets and got the cash in some big amounts
 I looked him dead cold in his eyes, *blast* without carin
 If money speak, that explain the voices I've been hearin
 You ain't really have to kill him
 Yo God he moved -- but I lied
 Damn, there's our sick stick-up turned homicide
 So? That's the way our momma died
 Is you with me I'ma slide

 [both]
 So we slid, had to get our gameplan together
 Cause this little bit of stickup loot ain't lastin us forever
 Desperate, on the edge with no place to go
 We can't go back to the hood we stuck up everyone we know

 Chorus: *sung*

 For the love of money, people will rob from each other
 For the love of money, people will steal from their mother
 For the love of money, people will kill their own brother..

 Now everytime I hear a fuckin siren, my heart skip a beat
 I'm paranoid, every face I see I think he after me
 Supposedly
 we was supposed to be gettin work from this large cat
 But since we know where he rest at -- we goin Bogart!
 Son frontin so hard
 Heard he had a hundred G's alone on his Gold Card
 His crab wife showed me mad cash in her blouse
 She said he the mad stash at the house
 Couldn't pass up a jooks like this anyday
 Anyway
 on our way there, I'm feelin bad vibes
 Yo kid don't say that
 That's when we bumped heads
 with vicks that we stuck from way back, up on Atlantic
 The way them niggaz lookin God they drivin mad frantic
 Yo don't panic, trust me
 What?
 I jump back and bust em
 Shots through they windshield, they ain't wearin shield
 Hit the kid behind the steering wheel *car horn* it's the way I feel
 In a state to kill I wanna watch him DIE
 Wait and chill
 We got bigger fish to fry, two L's later
 in a Bed-Stuy elevator, got off the fifth floor
 Water hit the skull, ready KICK THE DOOR
 off the hinges
 Bust shots right
 Only thing I saw was a nigga four-four
 His gun jammed
 He tried to run and, reach for a knife
 Shot him in the leg
 So think about your life
 and tell me where the loot's at
 He said, "I'll tell you just don't shoot black!"
 With the sight of fear, dragged him down six flight of stairs
 to the basement, and in someway, he had a trap door in the pavement
 Smacked him with the gun, kicked him out the way
 Had to be at least 500 K
 Now hear come the bitch, talkin bout her share of the wealth
 So we put her and the husband out
 and we went for self

 Chorus

 Yo, we fuckin came off!
 Word
 The plan was splendid
 'Cept we got all this money, and can't even spend it
 Shh, let's disappear
 Yea yea
 And be outta this place
 So much dirt and shit we did it's hard to show our face
 So we bounced out of town and went down to Miami
 Cause most those cats we crabbed was like family
 Now me and you beefin, nah it can't be true
 It all started when all we had was just me and you
 Now a whole different person is what I'm startin to see in you
 'Member when we had the new Lex
 with the two Techs, rollin to the duplex, drinkin Stout
 Thinkin bout, what we gonna do next, we used to work tight
 Half-assed cars, down to dirt bikes
 Hopin everything will go right, with the snow white
 and in number spots that flow all night
 Up to this day it was all tight
 Man, FUCK THAT!
 You my little brother and we came out the same pussy
 but I'ma kill you, you dummy, you FUCKED UP MY MONEY!
 Nah, the money fucked YOU up
 Tryin to say the money changed me?
 What you think, I'm your brother, you got a gun in my face see
 What??!
 How can one tiny mistake, make you wannaerase me
 Fuck that! You cut a side deal, that's why they raided the block
 Now how the fuck I'm 'sposed to know the undercover was a cop
 Son you been fuckin with them niggaz!
 Look just put down the gun and let this bullshit slide
 Nigga I ain't puttin down SHIT
 I'm tellin you let's just chill man
 FUCK THAT NIGGA!
 It don't gotta be this way man
 WHAT NIGGA? IT GOTTA BE THIS WAY!
 IT DON'T GOTTA BE LIKE THIS MAN!
 IT GOTTA BE NIGGA!
 THEN GO AHEAD AND PULL THE TRIGGER!!
 THINK I WON'T? FUCK YOU!
 YOU KNOW YOU AIN'T GON' DO IT!
 FUCK YOU! *gun blasts*

 Chorus cont. with - Don't let money change you.. - before fade