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Foreign Exchange

Selah the Corner, Bizzle

Martyrs in the Making: Volume 2, 2013, ingilis

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Dollar-dollar-dollar bill, y'all (Y'all, y'all)
In the back of mind, I want to win it
Running this rap race 'til the finish
'Cause CHH been home for a minute
But I'll prolly leave it alone in a minute
I told the homies 'bout love, killed, then later risen
But why love when he see how far the hater get him?
I spit God' Word, every bar plagiarism
I look around and all I'm seein' is favoritism
I know what it's like to be last on it
Get a concept, boss, and even fast on it
Get a track, black out and straight mash on it
For somebody to tell you they're gon' to pass on it
Uh, tears of a real spitta
They bottle living water, I need a real river
And my mission to try to marry her
What I deliver ain't bigger than the Deliverer
Uh, so tell me 'bout your goal, homie
You rap for the Rock, you gotta roll, homie
I'll tell you what an old-school with flow told me
Yahweh' currency is souls, homie
It's why I'm only on that money tip
While these politicians'll fold like a money clip
Souls of the paper, I'm a fiend
But you already know what I mean
It's all about the C.R.E.A.M
Dollar-dollar-dollar bill, y'all (Y'all, y'all)
Cash rules everything around me, frikki-frikki-frik
C.R.E.A.M.; get the-get the-get the-get the
Get the-get the-get the-get the money, dollar-dollar
D-d-d-d-dollar-dollar, dollar-dollar bill, y'all (Y'all, y'all)
Cash rules everything around me, C.R.E.A.M
Get the-get the-get the-get the-get the
Get the-get the-get the-get the mon-mon-money
Frikki-frikki-frikki, dollar-dollar-dollar bill, y'all (Y'all, y'all)
I've been in cyphers with some of the realest
Handled a couple rappers, y'all call them the illest
But still, I tell them the bars with the divine control
Collabs duckin' me, they don't wanna get mind-controlled
It's cool, fame never what I run on
Souls' the prey and I'm steady gettin' my hunt on
Nearin' my end zone and these rappers gettin' their punt on
Tryna make music that these unbelievers can't front on
Y'all already know that I spit to the shooters
What they callin' you , Sevin? Neighborhood polluters
But, homie, you're trash, and the Christ we link
Probably stopped more killing than your neighborhood precinct, uh
My conglomerate honors the cost
We light up the dark and we honor the torch
And we're usin' this Hip-Hop and findin' the lost
Don't like what we're doing? We come off the porch
Dollar-dollar-dollar bill, y'all (Y'all, y'all)
Cash rules everything around me, frikki-frikki-frik
C.R.E.A.M.; get the-get the-get the-get the
Get the-get the-get the-get the money, dollar-dollar
D-d-d-d-dollar-dollar, dollar-dollar bill, y'all (Y'all, y'all, that’s what it's about, huh? Bizzle!)
They hypnotized by the bar code (Code)
Spit a lie, flip a pie for their car note
Live and die just to whip a ride and check a iPhone
Get to dissin' God, know the kitchen got a hot stove (Let's go)
You ain't feelin' me? I feel the same (Same)
Agree to disagree, just don't get in the way (Way)
And tryna compare a Bizzle to a Lil Wayne's
Comparin' a couple dope lines to a brick of cain (Uh)
What you rappers want? Respect? (Please)
After seein' the things that y'all'd do for a check (Really?)
This week, it's a pistol, next week, it's a dress (Huh?)
This week, it's Molly, next week, it's sex (Pss)
Wonder what they gon' have y'all tellin' us all next
Live fast, die young, they're sellin' us all death (Death)
Lil' Snupe passed, I ain't even wanna read about it
Same cats pushin' murder raps want to tweet about it (It's crazy)
But, homie, what you gon' do about it?
You prolly supplied the soundtrack for the dude who shot him (Real talk)
You put murder all in your songs
But if murder's wrong, then it's wrong
Shouldn't be 'bout the money

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