Dave East & Harry Fraud – Money Or Power Lyrics ft. Jim Jones

Dave East and Harry Fraud Money Or Power Lyrics, Money Or Power Lyrics by Dave East and Harry Fraud

(La música de Harry Fraud)

Back the .40 out in Footlocker, the mall will panic
Painted the ‘Rari pomegranate, it was hard to manage
Double dutchin’ with this paper like we jumpin’ rope
Gemstar razor, couple flavors in them bubble coats
My passion make me work, know that grass feel different
When you get tackled on turf just pay me back by the first
I feel like Bone Thugs, I felt like Pablo, had my own drugs
Borrowed every hammer from Shoota, fuck who he don’t love
I felt like Dolla Bill in Player’s Club, I want my own club
The system tried to move us but we won’t budge
Not to avoid them niggas that I don’t love
Drizzy sent me a coat, then Yeezy sent me his Boost
Then J. Cole sent me his shoes
I got ties with the idols in this shit
If I hit ya wife on camera, I’m going viral with your bitch
Moonwalkin’ with a glock, I feel like Michael with the stick
I got this chick that move just like Griselda Blanco
I told her just me and Capo
Open the door

If Harlem had a king that be a no-brainer
Pour the water from the base through an old strainer
Start taking about that base, I mean that cocaina
If I’m drawin’ at your face, but I ain’t a painter
Just like Picasso nigga, I could make the picture vivid
Young with the guns I remember takin’ pictures with it
I been critically acclaimed nigga, you just a critic
I got that special recipe when I whip the brick
Some use a microwave or put it on the stovetop
Now you stuffin’ your pockets, you might pop up with a froze watch
Nigga fuck all the coppers, I curse at em thru my rosetop
They know if I jump in the booth that every verse of my flows hot
Fire, nigga, hot like when lavas drippin’
Had all the Mikes, still wanted to buy the Pippens
I’m good with the bangin’, hop out and I started clippin’ em
I’m better with a chick on my side, in my ride
We dippin’ soon
Chill, I don’t think you seen no killin’ shorty
I had them, niggas that kill all in-front your buildin’ shorty
You know the drill, Ferrari wheels when I’m feelin’ sporty
They call me a moreno but I’m still a Bori