Where My Money - Royce 5'9

I’ve been f*cking with this game for a long time and I’m impatient

I’ma kill somebody if somebody don’t make me real rich this year

For starters, I’m all about the bread

I ain’t no artist, I’m a target, I’m like the landlord

Hip hop’s currently fallen down the stairs

Your rents due, muthaf*cka!

Now who gives a f*ck about the bars the hardest?

When the DJs think they’re bigger stars than the artists

Riding around in Ferrari’s doing more A&R-ing than the A&R's

And half them n*ggas don’t even scratch

That’s like the blind leading the blind leader

Hip-hop is like the FBI in the trap readin' The Don Diva

It makes no sense, it’s ironic how I can straighten you

Even though I stay so bent

I’m about getting ins, every time my money’s on hip hop

That’s every time the house n*gga wins

Flooding the drought, loving the club, Crip/Blood gun talk

Ladies and gentlemen: hip hop in one bar

I’ve been f*cking with this game for a long time and I’m impatient

I’ma kill somebody if somebody don’t make me real rich this year

Where my money at?

I put a cease and desist on this industry shit

Me making a friend means I just make an enemy quit

When n*ggas think they finna be big, their images switch

They go from getting beat by a n*gga to sweet to a cinnamon whip

They acting like they got the Vanna White in Wheel of Fortune

But actually they spilling the script

I tell her DJ to play mines, or we gon' spray ya

And that’s on every MC’s mind, they just don’t say it

I flame spots, my brain lies and the top is on fire

How you gonna say Nickle Nine ain’t rising

Rappers no longer have to be on the block lying

You get your ass whooped on the net, you a pop icon

I spazz like I got the right rhyme

I flash like a shot Nikon

I call my motherf*ckin' man my money, so money stands out

While I got my motherf*ckin' hand out

I’ve been f*cking with this game for a long time and I’m impatient

I’ma kill somebody if somebody don’t make me real rich this year