Thinking of a master plan Cause ain’t nothing but sweat inside my hand So I dig into my pocket, all my money spent So I dig deeper, but still coming up with lint So I start my mission, leave my residence Thinking how could I get some dead presidents I need money, I used to be a stick-up kid So I think of all the devious things I did I used to roll up, this is a hold up, ain’t nothing funny Stop smiling, be still, don’t nothing move but the money But now I learned to earn cause I’m righteous I feel great so maybe I might just search for a 9 to 5 If I strive then maybe I’ll stay alive So I walk up the street, whistling this Feeling out of place cause, man, do I miss A pen and a paper, a stereo, a tape of Me and Eric B and a nice big plate of Fish, which is my favorite dish But without no money it’s still a wish Cause I don’t like to dream about getting paid So I dig into the books of the rhymes that I made So nows a test to see if I got pull Hit the studio, cause I’m paid in full Classic!
Posted on: Sun, 31 Aug 2014 03:57:30 +0000
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