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Yea... Yea... Yea. This ain't no mixtape Damn we might has just named my album Yea... Yea... uh. Grey polo sweats, yellow gold rolex Blue facial mask, ya'll niggas ain't on that One of the best rappers, you havent heard yet Though over the years I've enjoyed my success Where would underground rap be minus the jets? At home living inside it's all kind of depressed Gotta watch where I step, there's all kind of traps Trying to keep me on the ground, I ain't got time for that Trying to put me in my rhymes where we supposed to be at Fly society mansion with swimming pools in the back New Orleans what's happenin? Yea your dude is back Might see me in traffic in the Caprice classic With the windows crackin, it's me flicking my ashes Cut the check and I cash it Blow it all on glasses 95 air maxes and mad pounds of Cali No socks with the bad ones them bitches keep lookin at me [Chorus:] I'm on top of the money [x3] SongtexteLike the dope boy mattress. Passin broads in my car they be pointin at it I'm on top of the money, like the dope boy mattress I'm on top of the money [x3] Like the dope boy mattress. Passin broads in my car they be pointin at it I'm on top of the money Like the dope boy mattress I'm on top of the money Like the dope boy mattress Got deals on the table, silverwares and napkins The right moves they help me take care of my family Two coups will make me more of a chick magnet Spitter destined for greatness I always knew it would happen I just laid in the Gap like one of the store mannequins From the back burnin my attack I was plannin it And now I'm bendin corners in the Nomad Wagon Sittin them 22s with the staggered fittin Fishtail tail whippin I'm burnin rubber my tires spinnin Spittin what I'm livin never lyin in my lines I'm the truth in the booth hit it real when I rhyme They see me on my grind and they be like aw shit Spitta fly that plane he gon make em all rich We just do our thing we don't listen to your shit We just listen to ourselves we the niggas ya'll fit [Chorus] Aus Songtexte Mania