T.I.
Money On My Mind
[Chorus: Yung Booke]
Money on my mind, on my waist be that strap
Bitch don't fuck with my grind, n***a you dying in that stack
No joke witchya, self made
I'm a dope dealer in the drug game
Don't encroach n***a, we play for keeps
We lay in sheets, these bitches don't want no broke n***a
Money on my mind, on my waist be that strap
Bitch don't fuck with my grind, n***a you dying in that stack
No joke witchya, self made
I'm a dope dealer in the drug game
Don't poach n***a, we play for keeps
We lay in sheets, these bitches don't want no broke n***a

[Verse 1: Spodee]
Intensity beats ex-tensity every time
That's why I go hard on every rhyme (go hard n***a)
That's why I thank god for every line
I know I'm more advanced than you, demolished it when I'm barely tryin'
Hard shit, bitches all on my dick, they hanging on my Calvin Klein
I'm an outcast and I got 3,000, big boys with me
N***a sit down or get war with me, I'm dropping bombs all over Baghdad
And a bitch bound to get more from me, if she [?] or get whores for me
I used to smoke weed with a gas mask, but never got high until 10,000 feet in the sky in an aircraft
Counting money that come out of a trash bag
I'm a dope boy, I sold cocaine you never had that
I'm a whole brick and you a gram bag, I'm a scientist and you a lab rat
Now show me where the Kraft at (money n***a), I need real cheese
I'm a fresh prince you gotta feel me, I keep a Smith & Wesson and I will squeeze
But I got Reggie Miller shooters, I ain't gotta take the shot [?]
I'm sharp as Shannon when I move the white, even sell the Reggie to make ends meet
[Chorus: Yung Booke]
Money on my mind, on my waist be that strap
Bitch don't fuck with my grind, n***a you dying in that stack
No joke witchya, self made
I'm a dope dealer in the drug game
Don't encroach n***a, we play for keeps
We lay in sheets, these bitches don't want no broke n***a
Money on my mind, on my waist be that strap
Bitch don't fuck with my grind, n***a you dying in that stack
No joke witchya, self made
I'm a dope dealer in the drug game
Don't poach n***a, we play for keeps
We lay in sheets, these bitches don't want no broke n***a

[Verse 2: Troy Ave]
Troy Ave n***a, in my blow bag n***a
35 for the kilos, get mine at the oh yeah n***a
Up my chips every flipper, fish scale, Mr. Flipper
Wait a minute for dinner, I'm in the kitchen with whipper
Stuttering going dummy, No other thoughts but the money
Get it sweeter than honey, you know how T-Roy be done-y
Mobbing deep cause you nervous, it just be me during murders
Kept it low from surver-lance, I mean surveillance we circus
Cash business you know, family, religion, and dough
Been got my momma in snow, they made me the man that you know
I talk that shit when I flow, and it be facts
Only n***a from my block bought a big body Benz off crack
Don't play me for no sucka n***a, you can't afford that reverend
I came up from the dirt, made 6 figures now on 7
Mill-ions, still keep me a milly on
I go stupider and get silly on one
Real n***a, for real yelling "free Run B" on a pill we on
[Chorus: Yung Booke]
Money on my mind, on my waist be that strap
Bitch don't fuck with my grind, n***a you dying in that stack
No joke witchya, self made
I'm a dope dealer in the drug game
Don't encroach n***a, we play for keeps
We lay in sheets, these bitches don't want no broke n***a
Money on my mind, on my waist be that strap
Bitch don't fuck with my grind, n***a you dying in that stack
No joke witchya, self made
I'm a dope dealer in the drug game
Don't poach n***a, we play for keeps
We lay in sheets, these bitches don't want no broke n***a

[Verse 3: Yung Booke]
Them Margiela kicks turn dirt as thick, say they ain't the shit, bitch please
Came from the bottom, you won't make it out and n***a barely see 16
Cut their tongues out their mouth, fuck n***as just thinking ain't shit sweet
Not paying your dues, mention my city and I dare you [?] get me
On dough Imma flip out, watch 'em go scrammin like the 12 comin
The 40 go pow when the whip out, but these n***as really ain't know nothin (they frontin')
We know fishing rod and we're catching out the money sea?
I got good aim, I'll blow the back out of every n***a tryna front on me

[Verse 4: T.I.]
Let me tell you how I do a fuck n***a, catch em we'll empty outta clip like it ain't no thang
And I'm riding around with the motherfucker in my coat right now, think it ain't gon' bang
Getting high with a brand new bitch in a brand new car getting the same old brain
I'm a zone 1 A-town Bankhead n***a, been serious, n***a, it ain't no game
Imma trap 'till it's finished, remember me
I was standing on the corner when I was supposed to be in school, crack what we dealing
Handle my business get the money until it's stacked to the ceiling
Pussy n***a I would rather be the villain
In the Bentley with a couple hundred mill, all the racks we be spending get a fuck n***a buried
In a motherfucking hearse, but n***a I ain't worried
[Chorus: Yung Booke]
Money on my mind, on my waist be that strap
Bitch don't fuck with my grind, n***a you dying in that stack
No joke witchya, self made
I'm a dope dealer in the drug game
Don't encroach n***a, we play for keeps
We lay in sheets, these bitches don't want no broke n***a
Money on my mind, on my waist be that strap
Bitch don't fuck with my grind, n***a you dying in that stack
No joke witchya, self made
I'm a dope dealer in the drug game
Don't poach n***a, we play for keeps
We lay in sheets, these bitches don't want no broke n***a