Bags of Gold

Lyrics

[Verse 1] Uh, my first slip was my last wound Destined to make it since my half moon I murder shit, the industry's my bathroom Bills, bitches and Benzes, the rapper's three B's Now I remember seeing your name while I was snapping CD's Always the topic of the boss, sneak these Bubble the profit, can't stop it, weed jars, double R's, sweet keys I need a blade to shave the ice down on my heart, deep freeze The finer living gave me suave street dreams, I'm made for winning Girl my wardrobe stays the bomb, shades on, suede and linen Let professionals perform, they gone, I play the villain Revolutionary, flexing my arms for black culture Take a hit of this, go jump off the roof, you smoke crack, don't ya? White fatigue crawl on the clip, I'm super strapped, soldier Album give the world an eclipse, recouped and back colder Save the drama for my commas, I'm greedy still Take back the little knowledge from my novice I dream of dollars [Chorus] This is duffel bags of gold, and diamonds for the soul Devil tried to pin a nigga down, I'm climbing out the hole Put the pressure on and watch it take its toll We done made it out the stops, only the top gon' make me whole They want to move it slow, but ain't got no control Everything they had to throw we threw back, we'll never fold Nigga, getting paper don't get old Just when you thought it was safe, uh, reload! [Verse 2] Uh, descendants of the biggest of fools, your family's clowns Envy stares from my weak peers, sharing my hand me downs Better air heads, I'm slamming 'em like Anthony Towns Climbing heights, paint the stairs red, uh, champion crown Call your muscle, don't need a weak link cramping my style Born to hustle, the devil's a lie amping you now Who's your witness? Remove all your stripes, rendered defenseless Handing flyers out to serve you your faith, dead at the entrance I'm relentless, my training's extreme, killed my apprentice Oops, take it out on your troops, regime relinquished You niggas take too many pictures, very suspicious Know the latest news and all the glitches, envy the bitches Dawg I'm money hungry, calling my line.. better be business You an opp dummy, gon' need divine heavenly scriptures Put these wave-riders all in one rhyme, tell me the difference Throw your name under, clean up the mess, bury the scissors [Chorus] This is duffel bags of gold, and diamonds for the soul Devil tried to pin a nigga down, I'm climbing out the hole Put the pressure on and watch it take its toll We done made it out the stops, only the top gon' make me whole They want to move it slow, but ain't got no control Everything they had to throw we threw back, we'll never fold Nigga, getting paper don't get old Just when you thought it was safe, uh, reload!