Artist: Illmatic
Song Titel: Make money
Album:
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1) the mr. logical miracle now you heard tha'
called just the lyrical physical mad murder
i got the ill phat rhymes like venom
so bust my style read if you don't understand them
i got the phattest beatz in your whole city
make my rhymes shitty cause my style ain't pretty
i make noise with my boyz cause it's real
pack up tha steel with the mass appeal
kill i put the boom in my room with my terror
the illa is clever comes like the devil out the
mirror
a clearer instrumental you can't beat it
if you can't read you can't eat it lead it

2) about the sweetest rhyme that you ever say
hey hey hey hoh hey
do with my crew hit the stage to blow affection
i don't know what to do hit the rulaz in my action
illmatics back on the track you know i'm strokin'
flowin over attack smokin you and what you talkin'
broken open it's the illmatic mr.
hit you with my fist ah knock out hasta la vista
the psychopathic illmatic got's to have it
one for your mind two for the automatic
down with the s yes and the soundsystem
you try to diss them 3p is mad wisdom

3)i sell my raps with the gaps and snaps to make a
dollar
one for the cheese smokin' trees and make mc's
holler
cause i'm that bigger that pullin' that trigger up on
the microphone
another joints blow'n soldier will be comin' home
end of the zone illmatic's free a new release
can't get with these rest in peace forget the
memories
pop pop with the glock nonstop i drop the shot the
iron lounge
you better come listen son the pistol is my tongue
just like a gun i spread out from the crowd
dimension
i pay attention but no one's got the right direction
i face the action with lmp yo that's my crew
i got the clou cause no one's hurt the way i do

chorus: hah make make money money ( 8 times )
stop smiling fool ain't nothin'funny