Mo' Money Crime Family featuring Flesh-N-Bone & Hemp Cartel
Mo' Money Crime Family
You ever heard of gangreen? Well, we the green gang/ Half my homies bang, the other half slang/ I got a green khaki suit to make sure my shit is fly/ Slipped on the Brune O'Mali's now somebody's gonna die/ They tried to play me for some weight, then escape to out of state/ I straight pressed that trey-eight to his fuckin' chest plate
Mo' Money Crime Family
The police stopped the parole, knowin' that he smoked weed and drank forties/ Revealed the Smith & Wesson, stainless steel/ Thirty-eight calibur, two slugs missin' (We off in this game) No information on the drive-by mission/ Three years, three months, eleven days/ A dangerous thug with more dead than Raids/ He still good, only got two strikes/ Got caught in a fight, shot off somebody's lights (I sport my glock, busta, the game's a motherfucker)
Flesh N Bone
Street-walkin' stalkin' never no lights in sight servin' a bomb/ Bomb missles, lyin' in the front lawn/ Bloody massacre, vision of God/ Street-walkin' stalkin' never no lights in sight servin' a bomb/ Bomb missles, lyin' in the front lawn/ Bloody massacre, vision of God
Hemp Cartel
Money talks, bullshit walks, niggas catchin' cases, plus the judge is a racist/ You better stack your chips, get a lawyer, don't be a sucker because these faker wards is throwin' the books at motherfuckers/ It's time to get legit cause a nigga like me ain't gon' get caught up with that bullshit/ I'm tryin' to tell you cause I know (Damn) They just kicked in my door and took my shit on a 4-2-0
Flesh-N-Bone
It's the 7 ot 6 slug with the hollow point tips, that what you can call me/ I'm that man in this band, that ain't who I am then again, now won't you follow me stormin' through lands/ Got a cannon cocked in my hand when I roll in my armored tank/ Thank my gat and I paint these pranker calls, and hell a destruction might wreck/ Ain't never been afraid to stank you, fifty-seven/ Oh my, hillbilly do trip over all the paper/ Spot him, miss, but their body didn't rott/ Well, have you seen a nigga flip it? No, he's angelical by all means/ If you ever sought to step in it less, now's you chance to spot him with the beams/ How could you creep with a knife and even givin' a chance, took it and ran/ What was the man, givin' a good look inside the mirror, what does it see? Fuck you can/ Tustlin' to get my hustle on, drag and strut till I bust my balls/ Y'all want my nuts, fuck, stuck, and I'm shootin' hell at you, sawed-off and I'm packin' a pump/ You gon' feelin' the rhyme, feelin' the bump, thump, hump/ Gimme that nicotine; Fiend/ Look, did you see me float? Takin' it coast to coast and then I'm gon' bust on mine, then I'm gon' bust your mind, then I'm gon' drop a dime till it's 1999
Available on the Mo' Money Crime Family album Life of a Hustler (2000)