stop) it (no) Don't you stop it (don't stop) the music! Yeah, yeeah! [Interlude: Lil' Flip] Lil' Flipper, oh no [Verse 1: Lil' Flip] I'm stackin' my dough
alone, don't harm a feather How do they turn a cow into leather Like JDL on stage with the meta Don't got no dough, better be a go-getter Is that anthrax
Little Nick, Tony Koch, and Ollie (uh-huh) Remember Dre, the one that used to fuck wit Holly (yeah!) Abby and Blue, B-Boyin Shawn Bill Smith, Nick Bird
trying to stay alive, in this life of crime [Dougie D:] Heavenly Father help us, and help us all Fight with my back against the wall, is like giving my all Dougie
dangerous You really, don't wanna fuck with us Playing them games, will get you hoes fucked up [Dougie D] Knock knock on the motherfucking door, nigga who is it It's Dougie
chillin What more can I say? (Let's make a million) M-E-L-Man, niggas call me Most I be rockin on the East and the West Coast Your mail go back like Emmitt Smith
time, if there's one I'll know That most women strictly out for the dough They're called gold diggers Cause she's a gold digger [x3] [Verse Two: Parrish Smith
[Parrish Smith] Yeah, vacation's over As I say mic check, in eighty-nine, time to wreck Tellin all the sucker crab MC's to step EPMD's in effect Snappin
South Bronx and let me hear you say Hell yeah HELL YEAH Say hell yeah HELL YEAH [Parrish Smith] Aiyyo, I grab the mic and strike, explode and ignite Off the head, reminscin about some shit last night No dough
up, and move your body cause party people [Parrish Smith] It's time to party [x4] [Erick Sermon] Yo P break it down [Parrish Smith] Yeah "Uno, dos
bust caps I'm not havin it, and that means no haps Jack So get the bozack, and lay off the crack, cause that's wack This is the big payback .. [Parrish Smith
[Parrish Smith] Ah yeah, vacation's over Suckers still pickin on the four-leaf clover As I say mic check, EPMD's in effect Snappin necks and cashin large
at sundown, walk away chillin Cool, and Keep Mental like Mike Bivins Then I find the Hit Squad, and stop buckwhylin Chump, cause I'ma... [Verse Two: Parrish Smith
for granted Catered to the uncontended, faded and handed To the next MC stranded, makin em mad quick Of these undercover bandits, flakin like dandruff Fuckin' your man stiff Stuck in his Stan Smith
got, that you won't spot You won't never see him, won't never meet 'em In a position thought I'd never be in How the hell I got low dough when the video
-n-d making it happen, once more I'm lookin' for the fugees to split the score Nahmean? I'm out for the dough no less When I got 100 mil to spend, there
catch wreck on the world tour with dough in my pockets big like the biscuits, in CB4 Set up a contest, I'm comin, I'm takin the dough They wouldn't pick