$ (AKA Cash Rule)

We gotta make that money long (long)
When I make my 50 cent, Lord (razor rap, razor rap)
I been rollin', rollin', rollin', rollin'

Economy, razor blade rap, I'm tryna make it
Lobotomy, stays on your lap, pistol in slave ships (bow! Bow! Bow!)
I need my 50 cent now (bow! Bow! Bow!)
I want my 50 cent now

Yo! I'm coming from the land of the scams and dollar plans
Cardierre blasts, to take all your metal in fascist hands
Where the blunt runs straight out the president's face
We got more heat on the streets than in your apartment's space
Walk a creek of dirty needles and follow the shattered dreams
Broken bottles lead to piss-scented auburn-colored streams
Type old money, pass his hands like identically Hughes planes
Rap like bodies in Highland Park, the gun never jams, fam

Give me my money, you still owe me some change
I've been waiting since tanks from '67 came with the flame
So let's dance like those AK rounds and stop this aid
Just shake our ass like a glass ashtray, smashed on precious face
We dangle like self-severed wrists to escape the shackles
Run your money like blood from Matt Parker's ankles
'Cause we gotta get that green cloth to smorgasbord
Don't need it all, just let me eat for tomorrow, Lord

We gotta make that money long (long)
When I make my 50 cent, Lord
I been rollin', rollin', rollin', rollin'

Economy, razor blade rap, I'm tryna make it
Lobotomy, stays on your lap, pistol in slave ships (bow! Bow! Bow!)
I need my 50 cent now (bow! Bow! Bow!)
I want my 50 cent now

Yo! The sun never rises here, it's just the gunshots
Royal display of white snow and those haunted lots
Plus the chilling degree's a old routine
Take all the "CREAM", what war need vaccine?
That make it seem as if
We just as cold as our hands, in sweet December mist
Embers of pith lift leftover grains of cotton
That never blossom, sharp the heavens like the Apostle

You see me, I write the lines like a sniper's mind
Polish your nine, push up flowers, college of crime
So give me cash, you still owe me some paper
I've been waiting since you traded beads and whiskey for my labor
Coins jingle in pockets like rocks in a glass pipe
It's heavy like the air on a San Arbor murder night

Stomp your feet like that body dragged down the basement steps
I flow like water in your cellar from foundation cracks
On the same streets where the slaves ran into freedom
Night fractured by neon, hustle, my cannons steaming
Yo! This is I-75 robbery, zombie lodge
"Kamikaze Gods", "Michigan Babylon"
Nine dead men that cast metal for no reason to travel on
So, punch through

Make that money but don't let that money make you
Make that money but don't let that money make you
Make that money but don't let that money make you
Make that money but don't let it cash you in
Make that money but don't let that money make you
Make that money but don't let that money make you
Make that money but don't let that money make you
Make that money but don't let it cash you in