Ice Cube, Mack 10 / The Curse Of Money
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What's up man, you still got your pager, right?
Or you lost it? You know my code, right?
I've been pagin' you about a week, man
I heard about the deal you got
Breeze, chop, check this out nigga
Loan a nigga somethin', man
Do the math baby (do the math) cha-ching
Do the math baby (do the math) cha-ching
Do the math baby (do the math) cha-ching
Do the math baby (do the math) cha-ching
It's the curse of money, once you get it, fool you got it
Buy a new pair of drawers and motherfuckers spot it
Niggas plotting, to have me knotted up in basements
'Til these cocksuckers see what they face with
They fantasies of a life stress-free
Full of Ortiz, in the Florida Keys
But this bullshit is so thick, it's like mountains
Sick of threatening all my lawyers and accountants
These just some old golddiggers screwing for the testicles
Soon they realize, I don't invest in hoes
Sometimes it's like hell on earth
When everybody trying to get your ass for all your worth
It's the curse
Do the math baby (do the math) cha-ching
Do the math baby (do the math) cha-ching
Do the math baby (do the math) cha-ching
Do the math
When you hot, they think you got more than you got
When you not, motherfuckers calling you a flop
I just laugh, the curse everybody wanna have
Before you sell your soul better do the math
I start to scream shit like, "Mayday, mayday"
Cause motherfuckers think it's all gravy, with my payday
And like I said, it's the curse of money
They start laughing at your jokes when they ain't that funny
See this ass-kissing yes-man, shaking hands
With the left hand, get my weapon, get to steppin'
Fuck every phony-ass nigga 'round me
Stick a shaft up your ass like Richard Roundtree
Got to have some gas money, if you going
If not, who you fucking, who you blowing, who you owing?
In ninety-eight don't shit come free
Not even hard rhymes, that's describing these hard times
Do the math baby (do the math) cha-ching
Do the math baby (do the math) cha-ching
Do the math baby (do the math) cha-ching
Do the math
When you hot, they think you got more than you got
When you not, motherfuckers calling you a flop
I just laugh, the curse everybody wanna have
Before you sell your soul better do the math
To relax I smoke a stick, this shit make me sick
Got a gang of new homies, and relatives on my dick
No time for drama, busters get sprayed
Bitches wanna get laid, and everybody need they bills paid
Motherfuckers, sweat me like a spy
They wanna kick it cause I, got the curse of Mula
Make me wanna start strappin' and look at me to make it happen
What the fuck was they doing before Mack 10 was rapping?
Tell me, how can I remain a man of seven figures
When I'm rushed by golddiggers every time I get bigger?
Like David Banner, when I tweak I turn green
And every time I'm seen it's like people start to fiend
It's the curse
Do the math baby (do the math) cha-ching
Do the math baby (do the math) cha-ching
Do the math baby (do the math) cha-ching
Do the math
When you hot, they think you got more than you got
When you not, motherfuckers calling you a flop
I just laugh, the curse everybody wanna have
Before you sell your soul better do the math
Better do it (do the math baby)
The fuck outta here (do the math baby)
With dollar signs in your eyes (do the math baby)
Shit, leave your ass broke
Gravity is nigga for pockets
I'm cursed, but I love it