[Verse 1: Fat Joe] Wrist on froze, thanks to the stove; Mattress financial, bank's never closed; Monday to Sunday, serve all addicts; Joey Van Gundy, watch me work the Magic; Aah, and I ain't talkin' NBA; I ain't even trust the brethren, jealous ones still envy me; Problem is, these guys ain't even half what they pretend to be; Cold Don, now look at all the shots that they keep sendin' me; And your girl the best, she fulfillin' all my fantasies; She drip, drip, drippin' all up in the Drophead Phantom seats; Now pop your bottles, blow your cush, fuck what your man say; 'Cause you know we don't give a fuck, we let the pan play...
[Chorus: Trey Songz] If it ain't about money, why we wastin' time? (And tell her that) money's all that's on my mind... You can believe that, I'll be where the cheese at; Wrist on froze, better get your hoe; Pocket full of paper, so these haters can't stand me; Ballin' like the Lakers, keep heat like Miami, And she killin' in them jeans, "Baby, won't you take 'em off for me? " She said she a boss, she ain't talkin' If it ain't about money, why we wastin' time?
[Verse 2: Fat Joe] Neck on froze, thanks to the hoes; Pussy never plummet, pimp 'til I'm gone; Powder white work, let's get this shit poppin'; And fuck the police, like them niggaz out in Compton; Aah, we too fly for our own good; And you can see the sky shinin' on the chrome hood; And you can smell that money right off the Lou Vuitton; Self-made millionaire right from the Bronx; On my way to Cali, Kobe, he playin' LeBron; Drop 50 stacks, tell my niggaz "Pay the bar"; Stop trippin', that pussy got a nigga hard; And the Am-Ex card, blacker than my nigga 'Kon...
[Chorus: Trey Songz] If it ain't about money, why we wastin' time? (And tell her that) money's all that's on my mind... You can believe that, I'll be where the cheese at; Wrist on froze, better get your hoe; Pocket full of paper, so these haters can't stand me; Ballin' like the Lakers, keep heat like Miami, And she killin' in them jeans, "Baby, won't you take 'em off for me? " She said she a boss, she ain't talkin' If it ain't about money, why we wastin' time? You can believe that, I'll be where the cheese at; Wrist on froze, better get your hoe; Pocket full of paper, so these haters can't stand me; Ballin' like the Lakers, keep heat like Miami, And she killin' in them jeans, "Baby, won't you take 'em off for me? " She said she a boss, she ain't talkin' If it ain't about money, why we wastin' time