Belly - Interlude lyrics

Yeah, look
Straight out the holy land to holdin' grams
Tra tra trappin' out stolen vans
With goals and plans
Lonely man, remember bein' my only fan
I'm down and up, the Midas touch
The golden hand
Blood in the soil is over oil
Cold hearted, my blood boils
The spoils of war are used to
Take the drugs out the foil
Man these arms can't reach you
AR's won't recoil
Goddamn, I might marry a heiress
And move to Paris fuck the carriage baby
Let's go disappear and just perish
Thirty karats in the gold
I wear it to cherish the
Kings from which we inherit
My chariot is McLaren it's all numeric
Talkin' numbers, you incoherent
Don't be embarrassed
I blame your parents for even caring
Or not aborting, ah fuck it
It's not important
My vital organs can't even tell
If it's night or morning
Final warning, final warning, final warning
Every morning you'll awake and await mourning
We earn it then we burn it to ash
I call it urn money
My dog caught 40 before he turned 20
Money is earned, the rest is inherited
Hashish come from Marrakech
All my kush is American
Man I feel like a therapist
Pistol on me like Maravich
I careless, I'm so perilous with
All of this arrogance, goddamn
Money, hoes
That's something that you can't chase
I ain't shit but let you
Eat from the same plate
If you ungrateful then you ain't great
Me and Khaled come from the same place
Huh, holy land, holy land
Back when I was holdin' grams
Just to haul a Benz
Yeah, holy land, holy land
My father never was a holy man