Poke of Trackmasters - Bloody Money Pt. 2 lyrics

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Poke of Trackmasters - Bloody Money Pt. 2 lyrics

Intro: Noreaga talking [Noreaga] Yo, New Orleans, La, Va to Queens, I-95, where we never drive clean But good, gotta get out the hood, to really make it, now we cake it Until our whole team'll take it to another level, another Rolie wit Another bezel, like war against God against another devil Sustainin', now we're in Moschino, n***as say we changed it, switched it Now it's Cristal, instead of Mistic, Jose, catch me wit a pigeon and A gold biscuit, gettin mad lifted, let me find out, it's sellin dimes Out my crack house, yeah that's crashed out, let me catch that Just like Stackhouse, kick ya back out, have you mad vexed Like you did your whole bid, but didn't max out, yo Jose is In other words courageous, from South Carolina to D.C Yo the NC, hit Atlanta like Montana, comin out the airport wit the hammer Motherf**er, smoke more weed than Chris Tucker, in Friday When he treated Worm like a s**er, in three ways Let's sell a whole ki' in three days The way I know the crack game'll have you amazed In the ill days, yo I drink leche, Jose, so shake your culo, like Merengue Salsa arroz con pollo, grand royale in Ohio, Cincinnati, Minnesoto Yo from Philly to Connecticut, got n***as settin in, all predicate Like this rap game is pregnant, N-O-R-E, Nore Stand for n***as On the Run Eatin, no matter if they still cheatin' The object of the game is just to stay leavin', hit me on the Nokio Let me know if you still breathin, top grenade, ice it up, cop pies, slice it Up You really think you nice enough, f** around wit twice your luck Even seekin scrolls until your world fall in, to my n***as gettin they props Where they supposed to've been, don't rush, take your time The best come to those who wait, like Heinz, they be ketchup and spoil your cake Aiyyo it's I-95, wit my n***as lost faith, wha! Chorus 2x: Nas (Noreaga) Blood money (That's what this life lead to) Blood money (That's how my n***as bleed to) Blood money (That's what we smoke weed to) Blood money (That's how my n***as eat to) [Nature] Aiyyo, eatin from the same plate, and drinkin from the same cup Whoever thought that so much would have to change up I went to games as a Knicks fan, they had Strickland, they traded him Ever since then, son, I hated them, sh**'s turning sour in the N-Y Half the team hurt, still n***as get high and rock Queens shirts Fiends on the block know me for holdin b's work Seein chips ,poppin up in European whips, exceed the speed limit Tinted up and weed scented, treatin life like the auto bomb, never slow up I'm gettin head for being young and vulgar, fly and gifted Y'all n***as die over b**h sh**, I got some hoes in the law gettin high Like Rik Smits, born hypocrite, every now and then be on some different sh** Switch directions, my bag - quick deception My first love is for bloody money so skip the extras Chorus [Nas] Now what's a don?, a n***a that's a thug wit a charm, always on point As soon as he's on, his goons'll respond, he move right and fear losin his Life Mad dimes, but never could fit the shoes of his wife You could tell by the finger nails, clean, hair diced up, every four days A weekly routine, where he lived, stay out the hood, f** what a n***a say Out for blood, but yo, lustin the dough, he see snake smile for way In the same garden he play, but a true don'll get his proper groove on He tell the truth even when he lies, give you a fake name Even though his name is Nas, god body, in a wide body, bubble the Five To the S-Cla**, six n***as, double your size, either come wit a plan To make it happen, cuz sellin weight or rap pin We still trapped in a slave mind That keep the crackers laughin (That's what this life lead to) Chorus

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