[Intro] I, want, my, dough Or it's gon' be trouble, somebody let them niggaz know I, want, my, dough Or it's gon' be trouble, somebody let them niggaz know I, want, my, dough Or it's gon' be trouble, somebody let them niggaz know I, want, my, dough Or it's gon' be some trouble
[Twista] Oh ain't no playin me, it's Twista I gots to get mine, ya dig?
I need a stove and a pot from you, oh I need a jar from you I'm 'bout to cook up somethin horrible I make a big chunk and I chop it down to particles and sell a part to you, get this money is what I'ma do, ooh A tall dawg call me momma-do ooh, from sellin nuggets to your momma duke Now I got money out the follicles Try to stop me I'ma put your name up in the article I turn a giant to a molecule Peon and pussy were the man's parents I see straight through you like you transparent You ain't capo, you run your man's errands Low on the totem pole, but me I hold the do' I'm never freezin below zero, I can't go below a O So now I got digits, got critics - fuck 'em I got bitches that come back wit it, bust you in yo' cap fitted You niggaz ain't know I was that siddick The chain flick up, peep the (Chronicles) of Twista nigga, fuck Riddick
[Chorus] I, want, my, dough Or it's gon' be trouble, somebody let them niggaz know I, want, my, dough Or it's gon' be trouble, somebody let them niggaz know I, want, my, dough Or it's gon' be trouble, somebody let them niggaz know I, want, my, dough Or it's gon' be some trouble, somebody let them niggaz know
[Twista] Uh-huh I rap scary, make A&R's get on they Blackberry Type in to they boss that every track heavy If rappers was reverends I'm that Jesse Or comedians then I'm that Eddie, football I'm that Jerry You could count on me when you throw the (Rice) Married to the mob so throw the rice, you are just a prototype Son of the devil call him Dolomite I'm on another level but you wrote 'em, right? You fiend for that 'dro to write He ain't nothin I'm made, it's swift out the cuts when I daze him Give him cuts and abrasions cause I'm too fuckin amazin Huff don't get you paid and I'm makin big bucks off of haze and My dope gon' keep on comin back like you fuckin with Jason Vorhees, more ki's, get killed for the pies They yours to serve but the hills have eyes - I'm watchin you You should be through my money, huh? Well when I come through have that money up and I don't even wanna hear no funny stuff, hurry up
[Chorus]
[Twista] Buck buck, my guns fire horror A lil' money you better wire momma because I am diaboli-cal To your life I say sayanora Better call God or hire Allah, cause nigga I am lava Flow out the volcano to burn the village These cooking utensils ain't given to you boy you gotta earn the skillet When it come to a cap you gotta learn to peel it When it come to a track you gotta learn to feel it when it's your turn to kill it Musical masturbation I'm feelin myself, I'm deadly and mannish But I still'll leave you and your buddy damaged Freakin on the tracks so nasty that you can't understand it 'Til you see me sippin dollars and eatin a money sandwich And the new Jag be lookin so splendid But I can't re-cop it 'til you get finished - it's been three days nigga Give me mine, you know I gots to get paid nigga Don't you know the consequences of fuckin with a made nigga?
Lyrics contained within GoldLyrics.com subject to US Copyright Laws and are the property of their respective authors, artists and labels. If you like the lyrics, GoldLyrics.com encourages you to buy the CDs of the albums and whenever possible, GoldLyrics.com gives a link, where you can buy the album.
