Songtexte: Soundtrack Artists. Business First.

[Intro: (singing])]

(Money makers, take money money money)
[repeat]

[Chorus:]

You got to know the rules of the money makers (Money makers)
You got to have the mind of a money taker (Take money money money)
*repeat*

Day break, wake up, slept past the snooze
Spot that new pote', don't fuck wit'cha *?cools?*
If I won fifteen when we get Mickey D's
Philly *?tritors?* come up, we got our eyes on paper
I gotta partner wit two, see we can flip us a ??
Cos he'll help a nigga out, just we're down on low
So track the yard for your bank, spend five on bags
I'ma creep the soda from the store-a (that last ten burnt fast)

I took a beaker from school cos see I failed that class
Gotta simple teaspoon and we ain't top the glass
Watch it rise the top (the top), the drop to the bottom (the bottom)
Cool it off quick, yell "BOMB'S ??"

The fiends put that glass back to blast of a loaded .4-4 Mag
Hard enough to knock a linebacker out his shoulder pads
On a slab, drop the bag, time for action
Cut it witta one for your best satisfaction
Inhale, exhale, now you're clientele
Find me in ATL, where them hollow point shells
is left all over the scene when we been seen
Getaway cleaner than Kim Basinger, stay dip, it's a routine

Throw dice with the neighbours, never know which one I'm rollin with (Say
what?)
Keep your friends close but keep your enemies closest
There's six million ways (uhuh), wit one way out
.357 Rueger, the six-shooter
Just enough commotion to get the fuck outta Waco
God I'm in distress, I caress
Already got the ginners out the kin in '88
See stringers are better, I do whatever the fuck it takes

[Chorus: (x2)]


You got to know the rules of the money makers (Money makers)
You got to have the mind of a money taker (Take money money money)
Take care of your business first, save them niggas for last
and always keep your eyes on the cash

I stay ready for confrontation, throwin flurry's in combinations
The right, left, right, slap that niggas faces
>From the land of the free, home of the killers
We nick, keep keepin it raw, goin to war overseas
Mo' tains and now my end is game tight like Dolemite
Kavossier, no man's protege, the world's tight
I keep my dick clean like niggas came white
Since the days, niggas want a dopeman's knot

The moves I make, all your draft lights and Nitron Davis
One foot after the other, like a classic movie in color
The street blood, a goodfella, you weed dealer
You cocoa deller, gigolo, pimp-type money getter
Now see we strive for the good thangs, the big man'
and a ?? phone chain, sittin on chrome thangs
Plushed out white, wit the black pipes, straight from the Golden State
Filthy rich, niggas ??

You damn straight, and boss players never P.H.
They be too busy flippin weight down to the last ??
Stackin up rep wit the kilos on their inside, the chemist
who balance on trip' beams, like ol metal ??
I'm buildin like salt-n-vinegar, mama raise the real nigga
Three parts Cherokee, so I'm an Indian giver
Give and take and break a fiend of the proper docious
Keep it certified dope, in the Volks out of folks

[Chorus (x2)]

I got my niggas on the inside lookin out
(Yeah I got my niggas on the outside lookin in)
I got my niggas on the inside lookin out
(Yeah I got my niggas on the outside lookin in)
You know the money, take your money

[Outro]