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The Curse Of Money ft. Mack

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Lyrics

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