Artist: Notorious B.I.G. f/ Jay-Z, Angela Winbush Album: Life After Death Song: I Love the Dough Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash
*dice game intro*
[Jay-Z] Uhh, uhh Uhh, uhh, uhh, uhh Hah, what, I like this Uhh, uhh, I like this What? Uhh, what? Uhh
Verse One: Jay-Z
We push the hottest V's, peel fast through the city, play Monopoly with real cash Me and Biggie and the models be, shaking they saditty ass And parotta be, somethin you cats got to see And the watches be all types and shapes of stones Bein broke is childish and I'm quite grown Run up in the club with the ice on, me and Paisan' Scope the spot out, see somethin nice and I'm gone You cats is home, screamin the fight's on I'm in the fifteen hundred seats, watchin Ty-son Same night, same fight But one of us cats ain't playin right, I let you tell it People place yourselves in the shoes of two felons And tell me you won't ball every chance you get and any chance you hit, we live for the moment Makes sense don't it? Now make dollars Cats pop bottles bone chicks that favor Idalis and rack up frequent flier mileage
Chorus: Angela Winbush
Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey I love the dough, more than you know Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey
Verse Two: Notorious B.I.G.
I'm poppin Magnums while Jigga bag somethin Watch is platinum, got jet lag from flights back and forth, pop corks of the best grapes Make the best CD's and the best tapes Don't forget the vinyl, take girls break spinals Biggie be Richie like Lionel, shit You seen the Jesus, dipped to H classes Ice project off lights, chick flashes Blind your broke asses, even got rocks in big mustaches Rock top fashions Ain't shit changed, except the number after the dot on the Range, way niggaz look at me now, kinda strange I hate y'all too Rather be in Carribean sands with Rachael It's unreal, out the blue Frank White got sex appeal Bitches used to go, "Ewww!" Still tote steel, tryin to see five mil off the sin-gle, for real You ain't fazin the amazin While your gun's raisin, mine is blazin See you on see me all talkin to sweetness Take it for weakness and leave quick Blocker, Roc-a-, Fella, Bad Boy collabo Two MC's with mad dough, ju' know!
Chorus: Angela Winbush
I love the dough, more than you know Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey (repeat 2X)
Verse Three: Jay-Z, Notorious B.I.G.
Miracu-lous, pockets stay full Niggaz skip the bull cause we matadors Snatch the P-89's that we pack in the drawers And we, clappin doors in your Acuras Snap like, cameras on amateurs Make you all dance, hold a hammer to yours Jig and Big rock ice, no cracks or flaws Erybody got a part to play, back to yours Run up in your crib now, crack your doors Watch the real players live, it's a habit to floss Play the charts like the Beatles, y'all adapt you lost And toast Cristal on behalf of y'all Too bad for y'all, ain't too many as bad as yours truly, do we, we laugh at y'all Little bastards y'all
Uhh, uhh We hit makers with acres Roll shakers in Vegas, you can't break us Lost chips on Lakers, gassed off Shaq Country house, tennis courts on horseback Ridin decidin cracked crab or lobster Who say mobsters don't prosper Niggaz is actors, niggaz deserve Oscars Me I'm, critically acclaimed, slug past your brain Reminesce on dames who, coochie used to stink When we rocked house pieces and puffy Gucci links Now we buy homes in unfamiliar places Tito smile everytime he see our faces Cases catch more than outfield-ers Half these rappin cats, ain't seen war Couldn't score if they had point game, they lame Speak my name, I make em dash like Dame