Solomon Childs: Dinero

[Intro: Solomon Childs]
Yeah, uh-huh, for real, yeah, yeah, Dinero

[Solomon Childs]
Ice in the drink, and the watch, security, my mink dudes
Straight to the bar, me and Rakeem Allah
Never leave home without the hydro jar
Robbed by the dozen, gucci boots and leotards
Aight then, fishnets, lace skin
They in here, from Shaolin indictments
Bout it, bout it, to live large
Solomon liver than a PBA card, I Allah Master God
Millennium rides, see we are this fly
Then a V-Tech, 4-4, payed tour, baritone
Gettin' them wet like Kenny Lattimore
Lyrical bullets on related calling
Blazers who ain't never been to Portland
Code of the streets, kill or be killed
Eighty nine, getting money, police is mad dumb
Nickel and dimes in my mouth, my gums is mad numb
Twelve bars are rated r, ghetto life, killas in courts
Dirty poom-poom shorts, thuggin' every place I've been
Mi mama sta Dominican, ya'll need to roll with me
Get with me, show me a sign
I'm bout to blow the cigar, for humble
What you ain't know, how it's gangsta
Mixtape murder halls, swarm of the ski masks
You'se a bitch, you assed out, enough money to re-route
And the red bone chicks, smell like L'Oreal
Come and I'll find a way, by Blu Cantrell
This has been brought to you by, Hennessey VSOP, and Cognac

*beat switches*

[Interlude: Solomon Childs]
Yeah... uh-huh.. yeah.. come on, punish 'em lord

[Solomon Childs]
Just got here, the bitches already saying the God, plus
Adrenaline head rush, Mr. Shaolin, New York
Lay in the garage, you see the God
Cats be nothing more than a Buick Regal
My voicebox revolve like a desert eagle
I fell in love with a fish called Wanda, milli' Contra
Two thousand and two, kid rookie
Gorillas in the myst to rule, polish up, old school
Picture you motherfuckers on my level, you pussy
Type of nigga, who dancing in the date rooms
Singing on the gates, from here now
Allah, better late than never, sixteen bars
Of gangsta cheddar, eight to eight, gangsta money
Get yourself smacked up, if you think something was funny...