Dem Franchize Boyz, Dame Dash - Bricks 4 the High lyrics

How rich y'all niggas wanna be? (Franchize)
You wanna be a millionaire? (D-F-Bbitch)
You wanna be a billionaire? (10 Ho)
Nigga you wanna be what I wanna be (10 Ho)
I wanna be a fuckin trillionaire! (10 Ho)

I got them bricks for the high
And the purp by the pound
I'm posted on the block til the sun go down

Nigga I fuckin hustle, nigga I get money!
I can get money doin anything!

I got them bricks for the high
And the purp by the pound
I'm posted on the block til the sun go down

Nigga I really do my thing
Kind of fuckin hustlers are y'all?

Yeah i'm posted in that tip (Tip)
And my homeboy home
Blew an ounce of that kush (Kush)
In my sean john jones
I got the mild for the low (Low)
From smokin plenty optimos
Tryna make a quick flip, like my patna Maceo
I'm shinin on my haters
Signin deals so I'm a paaaa
Twenty G's on the chain
And I'm still worth a couple blocks
(all that man, I need a fo, a duece)
It started in that temp
Flippin mid's by them O-Z's

On the hill wit that shit
From a custom border
Two gram, fifties, do the math for a quarter
(For a Quarter?)
That's one, I fulfill nigga's order
What you nigga's wanna order?
06' Nino Brown, flip the temp into the carter
Rebirth! don't cut out my four-ways
I stash purp pounds
That's down for the drop days
And for my pay
I hit the trap when the sunrise
I break one down
And the rest goin for the high

I got them bricks for the high
And the purp by the pound
I'm posted on the block til the sun go down

Now see I like the shit
These niggas is talkin
Real hustla's recognize other real hustla's
That's why I'm fuckin wit em, Hey!

I got them bricks for the high
And the purp by the pound
I'm posted on the block til the sun go down

I got houses in different continents nigga!
Nigga I did my trips in London
Remember that? Fuck is wrong wit ya'll?!

I'm the boss of my own shit
I'm the ruling general
Bricks lined up like, cars at a funeral
I'm working hard white, So I never twurk
Touch and bust my workers on the block
So the work ain't even gotta touch
My money come in stacks (Stacks)
And I know just how to get it man
A low profile
Might be ridin a Honda Civic man
You'll never know it's me
But a nigga got the work holmes
I move it all day
Think he clirpin on my chirp phone
Connects so sweet (Sweet)
And I'm dealin wit tha curribeans'
They come from cross the water
Masked taped to my europeans'
Supplyin', whole towns, little counters
In the projects
Tryna double my money up, leave the block
Wit a profit
For you nigga's that like to pop (Pop)
You know I got them pills too
Getcha you a couple of splitters
Have you spinnin like some wheels fool
This shit don't stop
I move this work clockwise
I got my own bizness
I call this shit tha Franchize!

I got them bricks for the high
And the purp by the pound
I'm posted on the block til the sun go down

Nigga's get a million dollars and
Think they gettin it? (Harlem)
Nigga I made my first million
When I was a teenager (Dipset! Byrdgang)

I got them bricks for the high
And the purp by the pound
I'm posted on the block til the sun go down

Ughjones, Capo!
Dipset! Them nigga's know I'm bout this
(ByrdGang)
Spillin champagne, all over Vision's Couches
(Ballin)
Like fuck it, tell alex keep the cris' rollin
(Keep it Rollin)
I'm gettin drunk blowin weed
Wit the pistols showin' (Watch Em)
Spendin a couple K's up in Stroker's (Right)
Flyin up Peachtree, racin in the roster's
(The Fast Life)
I'm so icy, and I think they like me
(Like Me) seven Jeans saggin
Fitted cap and my white tee
(I'm Fresh to death)
The foreign cars got they eyes poppin'
(Daammnn) and you can see the stars
When the ride droppin

Aye Jim Jones (What's Hattninnin)
Let ya boy Parlae get some
Of that Harlem clientele (What's Hattninnin)
I got more crack than a curb, Fuck wit me!
(Westside! Aye fuck wit me)
I'm iced out, and keep snow, like an eskimo
And when the show's slow (Show's slow)
I cook extra blow (Extra blow)
Put the whip game on it, get some extra dough
(Extra Dough)
Keep the cars pullin up, like it's Texaco
(Texaco)
I can make it get stiff, like dead people
Keep my hand workin, wit the mic
Or a egg beater (Egg Beater)
And ya bank account? shit
That's my pocket fare (Pocket Fare)
Residue on my clothes, call it Roc-A Wear
(Roc-A Wear) i can beat it like my
I treat the dope like Tina
And I beat it like Ike and I keep tha grass
So you can call me the lawn man
I ride around wit chickens like I
Came from a farm man

I got them bricks for the high
And the purp by the pound
I'm posted on the block til the sun go down

You see how I get down wit the get down
Nigga I got a car for everyday of the week
And two other cars for the weekends
Nigga fuck is wrong wit you?!

I got them bricks for the high
And the purp by the pound
I'm posted on the block til the sun go down

Fuck is wrong wit y'all
Nigga I can sell whatever I wanna sell!
I done sold muthafuckin music
That shit was easy!
Started Roc-A-Fella and sold it!
I can get money in fashion
That shit was nuthin!
In five years I started that shit
Sold my part for Thirty Million!
And let's watch what the fuck
Is gonna be now!