​dj honda, Fat Joe, The Beatnuts - Out For The Cash lyrics

We want it all so we out for the cash
Life's too short so we gotta live fast
Gotta keep it real get the
Doe and that's that
Before we go out you know we gotta live phat
"5 deadly venoms on wax"

Al' Tariq: I break 'em down like cheers tear
For fears from the ave
Tariq whatever you seek baby you shall
Be given to ya deliver to ya
Posses asses we movin' around up
In the chest no less
I keep the minds straight organize and
Raise above these fake spies
Like Organize now these guys are
Frontin' talking about blastin' and lootin'
Niggas slashin' shit but son
Son who ya foolin'?
My nigga don't ever get no
Bigger than your britches
You know the old sayin' daddy uh
Stitches and ditches for snitches
So pour out the DP and pass the Moe Moe
And clean you imagination of
That fake funk flow psycho Les:
Kill the noise your funk is unsented
This track is splended Honda wanted
Me to represent it (yo who?)
The PSYCHO deep between the lines of yayo
Son you fake a jack push your
Wig back like Burt Renoylds
Even when I'm stressed I keep my
Chin up like Jay Leno
Bring it to any fuckin' morano
Latino bag 'em, for they casino

JuJu: I'm back son I know it's
Been a while but whatever
I'm terror undoubtedly more violent then ever
I'm out here gettin' money
More ways then three
I can't see these clown niggas
More paid then me
You crazy it takes one look you'll determine
That you wouldn't dare fuck
Around with this German
The life or dead kids incredible
Fed bids heroin dreams
And wild schemes my heads deep

Fat Joe:
Who gives a fuck about the opposition?
My position is far from fiction
I started bitches seeing cream
From all these fiends
With large addictions partner listen
I been doin' this shit
For years endin' careers
Bringin' Max back from the Tangiers yeah
So don't consider beefin'
I get rid of even the largest
Rap artist while the niggas sleepin'
Keepin' the street sweeper close
Cause niggas who lac-tose
Subtrack the grim reaper the most

Problemz: It goes a one Mississippi
Two Mississippi three G
With all them motherfuckin' I's
(eyes) niggas couldn't see
PROB, LEMZ with the verbal tactics
This ghetto bastard gets you
Bouncin' like a matress
I'm all that not to sound conceited
But, I'm undefeated handin' out nuff knots
(nots) like Ripley so you better believe it
A dedicatated underground representitive
Rugged instramentals get me hyped
And give me insentitive
To blow up the spot like Waco Texas
When I flex this crusty MC's
Get corroded like asbestos
On some next shit but it's just
The Brooklyn comin' out out me
I'm one of the ruggedest niggas alive
There ain't no pussy parts about me
Word is born this shit is on in your area
Problemz representin', mass hysteria
The kid from BK who rock
The diamond studded crowns
Comin' directly from Flatbush poppo
Now hold that down

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