Special Teamz, ILL BILL - Dirty Money lyrics

Dirty money it’s dirty, filthy
Special Teamz, Ill Bill
Duck down, follow along

It all started in the Franklin mint
And the ink they used to print
Us had a light green tint bagged us up
Stuck in a truck from Wells Fargo
Hell’s cargo shipped to a bank in Key Largo
Where all of my brothers
With similar serial numbers
Intense scrutiny, security printed asunder
I wonder would they fold me?
Fill me with drugs?
Will I be given to a priest
As a donation from thugs? Listen close
You don’t need to be a scholar to follow
To scan this trail traveled by the US dollar
If you hear me better holla
Instead of popping your collar
A lot of us stacked together
Like cheese in an enchilada
Used for change in the champagne room
Holding some ‘caine
Exchanged for pussy and brain
Withdrawn around dawn by a strip
Club owner named Vaughan
From Coconut Grove with a manicured lawn

The name’s Bill but you can
Call me dirty money
People lie, cheat, steal and murder for me
I’m God, no religion in the world’s above me
Let’s fight in the water holes
Even Curtis love me make deals, hustle hard
You’ll be earning lovely
Whips and cribs is pimped out
The burn is comfy
Coke dealers, world leaders
Yo we serve the country
Don’t sleep though eventually
Things turn ugly

I got the face of a slave owner
Cloned wrapped in a stack
The United States of America tats on my back
Saying God we trust
My abomination is as strong as Satan’s
The bigger the combinations
Of my denominations the thicker the plot
I’ve been passed for liquor and pot
Bitches who’re tricking for a
Dick in the twat coming up
They murder for me when the pistols were shot
I built the weapons that destroy countries
My missiles are dropped
I travelled the earth for seventeen
Years and never been clean
My face creased to hell
Bought dope for heroin fiends
I’ve been rolled and put in a nose with Hep C
In strip clubs they throw me
At hoes and sex scenes
Shoved in her asshole
Before I’m hanging out I got it
Yeah I’m caught up in a vicious
Cycle everyone’s a part of
Touched by millions of hands, blood, pussy
And drugs from cops and lawyers to
Judges, addicts, hookers, and thugs

The name’s Bill but you can
Call me dirty money
People lie, cheat, steal and murder for me
I’m God, no religion in the world’s above me
Let’s fight in the water holes
Even Curtis love me make deals, hustle hard
You’ll be earning lovely
Whips and cribs is pimped out
The burn is comfy
Coke dealers, world leaders
Yo we serve the country
Don’t sleep though eventually
Things turn ugly

Aerial thunder
My worth is in my serial number
I’m worse when they fill me with hunger
Material wonder
Fresh out of the Bank of America
So I wind up in the coach bag of Erica
And I travelled in her pocketbook
Trying not to look
Touched by eight hands like an octopus
New money, pre-fab
Her parents put her ass in rehab
She passed me for an E tab
To a nigga who’s pretending funny
He wasn’t making, he’s just spending money
Don’t defend the dummy
Now that nigga got me wrapped
In a rubber band put me on a chain
Gold and diamonds from the motherland
I’m in the other hand of another
Man of a jewelry store
Never truly been poor and I’m
The reason for high crime
Money can buy you a clock but
It can’t buy you time