Money 2 Fold

Yo what's up? (Aiyyo, what's up Kurupt)

A nigga feel so low that I can't come up

Dippin down the 101 blazin smoke

A trunk full of beats for why'all to go

Kurupt, Snoop, let's do the damn thing

Show all the little homies how the Dogg Pound bang

Dash, fast, the upper class

Went from low life to a brother with cash

Spending all of my time and like half my cash

Went from smoking dimes to smoking mafia bags

Went from sometimes to smoking all in the bath

And Lord knows I might host the Weed Award Show

I'm looking for the 105 getting off the 405

Be with this bad bitch, she living in the south

I'm met her at the club with my nigga Gotti

5-3, thick, with a lot of pride

That's what I love about the homes (What's that?)

Its just like a nigga getting trained, the homie spittin game

This shit makes no sense

I'm trying to make a dollar out of 15 cents

Money and funny niggas don't mix at all

And Cali's the perfect whether to get your chips and ball

So you can touch it while you're here or die without

I'd rather have it, since it really don't matter

The world spin around much longer

They thought that the West Coast leave

But we still be float

Mo' money 2 fold

Nigga ice cold

Mo' money 2 fold

A G is a G which we all know

A bitch is a bitch as a hoes a hoe

Watch as I strut these, cousin, I'ma bank æem bank æem

Dammit, it feels good, gangsta

Its three gangstas in a Cadillac

With TV's, CD's, some weed and three weeks

Chucks and French braids, blunts and gold chains

Hats and white T's, fag acts like police

When we on the East Coast we get nothing but love

All up in the club, DJ holla'd out who we was

I looked around, seen some MC's and grabbed the mic

And then I lit they ass up to keep the party on the high

Hit me on the Motorola holla at the homie

What's up sitting down sipping a Corona (What's up Kurupt!)

About to dip through, blaze up a quarter

Ounce, bounce with the homies and make the tour bounce

I like my Hennesey with Coke, I like my weed chronic smoke

I like my, Gin straight, my Benjamin's big faced

My women get big face, my niggas get big lace

Big homes and big Bentley's coup and star chrome

We rolling through the wild wild west

No respect to the click, who keeps it so dick

Most niggas probably want to bust us or even duck us

But the thing is we doing the right thing so you niggas can't touch us

I been no one fuck a little bit give me a lot

I want a steak not an 8-gun on a block

I want a skyscraper, not no apartment building

And I want billions in case I got part with millions

In case anybody ain't reach the top, that's cause they ain't deserve to

Now shut the fuck up before I get my guns out

And I ain't playing no games

So check a nigga I ain't sayin no names

How move it, who I move, but that's what they want

But they just can't see me, I slide up on 'em

Nigga that don't work his shit up off a coke

Work that bitch from a corner into a comba, nigga ya want to?

Dipping down the block where all the homies at

Fleetwoods and Lax on the homies straps

Nigga I rise for the hood home boy

What up Dogg, it all ain't good home boy

Like we said before, your face to the floor

We holding up your motherfucking candy store

And don't nobody get up til we hit the door

I said lay down and don't get up!

Dogg Pound gangstas in gray and blue

Took over the world just by staying true

You can bang to the boogie and hang out all late

But get some money 2 fold cause the game don't wait