Notorious B.I.G. ft. Jay-Z - I Love The Dough | Текст песни

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• Notorious B.I.G. ft. Jay-Z
• I Love The Dough

[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, sugar nase and did he ask?
And parotta be, somethin you cats got to see
And the watches be all types and shapes of stones
Being 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, screaming the fight's on
I'm in the fifteen hundred seats, watching Ty-son
Same night, same fight
But one of us cats ain't playing 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 beards and moustaches
Rock top fashions
Ain't shit changed, except the number after the dot
on the Range, way niggas look at me now, kinda strange
I hate y'all too
Rather be in Carribean sands with Rachel
It's unreal, out the blue Frank White got sex appeal
Bitches used to go, "Ewww!"
Still tote steel, trying to see five mil
off the sin-gle, for real
You ain't fazing the amazing
While your gun's raisin, mine is blazing
See you on see me all talking to sweetness
Take it for weakness and leave quick
Blocker, rocker, fellow, Bad Boy collabo
Two MC's with mad dough, jewelry on!

[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
Niggas 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 or amateurs
Make you all dance, hold a hammer to yours
Jig and Big rock ice, no cracks in flaws
Everybody 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 dap to loss
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
Riding deciding cracked crab or lobster
Who say mobsters don't prosper
Niggas is actors, niggas deserve Oscars
Me I'm, critically acclaimed, slug past your brain
Reminisce 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

[Chorus: Angela Winbush]
I love the dough, more than you know
Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey
[repeat to fade]


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