two gun shots*



It's a story about two brothers Rob and Vic

Grew up in the world alone

God forgot about them hmm

Forced to fend for themselves

In the Rotten Apples of New York City

This story takes place in 1993



How many nigs did we get so far?

I couldn't care to count

Just snatch em up quick

If he scream I'ma put him out

I put the heat to his face to SHUT HIM UP

so I can dig him out

Went in his pockets and got the cash in some big amounts

I looked him dead cold in his eyes, *blast* without carin

If money speak, that explain the voices I've been hearin

You ain't really have to kill him

Yo God he moved -- but I lied

Damn, there's our sick stick-up turned homicide

So? That's the way our momma died

Is you with me I'ma slide



[both]

So we slid, had to get our gameplan together

Cause this little bit of stickup loot ain't lastin us forever

Desperate, on the edge with no place to go

We can't go back to the hood we stuck up everyone we know



Chorus: *sung*



For the love of money, people will rob from each other

For the love of money, people will steal from their mother

For the love of money, people will kill their own brother..



Now everytime I hear a fuckin siren, my heart skip a beat

I'm paranoid, every face I see I think he after me

Supposedly

we was supposed to be gettin work from this large cat

But since we know where he rest at -- we goin Bogart!

Son frontin so hard

Heard he had a hundred G's alone on his Gold Card

His crab wife showed me mad cash in her blouse

She said he the mad stash at the house

Couldn't pass up a jooks like this anyday

Anyway

on our way there, I'm feelin bad vibes

Yo kid don't say that

That's when we bumped heads

with vicks that we stuck from way back, up on Atlantic

The way them niggaz lookin God they drivin mad frantic

Yo don't panic, trust me

What?

I jump back and bust em

Shots through they windshield, they ain't wearin shield

Hit the kid behind the steering wheel *car horn* it's the way I feel

In a state to kill I wanna watch him DIE

Wait and chill

We got bigger fish to fry, two L's later

in a Bed-Stuy elevator, got off the fifth floor

Water hit the skull, ready KICK THE DOOR

off the hinges

Bust shots right

Only thing I saw was a nigga four-four

His gun jammed

He tried to run and, reach for a knife

Shot him in the leg

So think about your life

and tell me where the loot's at

He said, "I'll tell you just don't shoot black!"

With the sight of fear, dragged him down six flight of stairs

to the basement, and in someway, he had a trap door in the pavement

Smacked him with the gun, kicked him out the way

Had to be at least 500 K

Now hear come the bitch, talkin bout her share of the wealth

So we put her and the husband out

and we went for self



Chorus



Yo, we fuckin came off!

Word

The plan was splendid

'Cept we got all this money, and can't even spend it

Shh, let's disappear

Yea yea

And be outta this place

So much dirt and shit we did it's hard to show our face

So we bounced out of town and went down to Miami

Cause most those cats we crabbed was like family

Now me and you beefin, nah it can't be true

It all started when all we had was just me and you

Now a whole different person is what I'm startin to see in you

'Member when we had the new Lex

with the two Techs, rollin to the duplex, drinkin Stout

Thinkin bout, what we gonna do next, we used to work tight

Half-assed cars, down to dirt bikes

Hopin everything will go right, with the snow white

and in number spots that flow all night

Up to this day it was all tight

Man, FUCK THAT!

You my little brother and we came out the same pussy

but I'ma kill you, you dummy, you FUCKED UP MY MONEY!

Nah, the money fucked YOU up

Tryin to say the money changed me?

What you think, I'm your brother, you got a gun in my face see

What??!

How can one tiny mistake, make you wannaerase me

Fuck that! You cut a side deal, that's why they raided the block

Now how the fuck I'm 'sposed to know the undercover was a cop

Son you been fuckin with them niggaz!

Look just put down the gun and let this bullshit slide

Nigga I ain't puttin down SHIT

I'm tellin you let's just chill man

FUCK THAT NIGGA!

It don't gotta be this way man

WHAT NIGGA? IT GOTTA BE THIS WAY!

IT DON'T GOTTA BE LIKE THIS MAN!

IT GOTTA BE NIGGA!

THEN GO AHEAD AND PULL THE TRIGGER!!

THINK I WON'T? FUCK YOU!

YOU KNOW YOU AIN'T GON' DO IT!

FUCK YOU! *gun blasts*



Chorus cont. with - Don't let money change you.. - before fade