And he was married to my grandmother for money n drugs
I'm out bk with these fast girls and all my cash good i miss slow bucks
Champagne no chain no diamonds
I think found where your mind was
Franky lymon the lime light gets old
But like the diamonds and gold
Money, mansions, girls and golden retrievers
Know it hurts that she flirts with a nigga this is worse
My paper long, yep, you left alone, you gets no fucks
Lotta rapper thugs talking bout bitches, money trees, and drugs
Cheated on light skin dominique when we was seventeen
Is money, drugs, hoes, violence washed up routine
And screaming i guess them nightmares as a child
Don't you know that im cold ...money gold on my mind
Then it's back to the corner where we sell cracksome of you niggas is bustas, you running round
Money drugs and women seem to be the only the the radio can play! (*white noise sound*)
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