For the love of money. 
Gotta make that money, man. 
That money, man. 
It's still the same, now. 

Flesh: 
Gotta get on the grind, pop in the clip of my nine, and [bad word] if you slip, you hit the chalk and fall in the nighttime. Gotta get mine, 
ain't takin' no shorts or no losses. Hop on the phone, callin' my [bad word]  Sin, at home, polishin' the MAC-1O chrome. Gotta lick 
we can hit, so bring your [bad word]  'cause once again, it's on. To the dome with a fifth of (burb), my wig to the curb, so we swerve 
and rolled out to pick up the triple-six thug and follow the murder for robbin' the dopehouse. Smoke jump outta me bong, so 
high, [bad word]  to slay with four grenades and a gauge. I'm a play, watch all 'em fall in the grave and lay. Pullin' in the 
driveway, Wish spotted the place and quickly rolled up. Bulldozed through the living room, hopped out of the car, and started 
to blow up. Buck, buck, and a kabloom, me blew all them bodies all over the room. Them doomed. And gotta move fast, 
why? The [bad word] . Snatch up me yummy, so [bad word]  don't think it's funny. [bad word]  up quick in the nine-quat, 'cause 
Flesh be lovin' this money, this money. 

Layzie: 
I'm givin' up love to the hustlas, all them St.Clair thugstas, makin' that money, stayin' on your feet. And you better believe gotta 
have that cheese for the green leaves, never catch me sleep. Stay on the grind, get mine, stayin' down for my crime, and I hit 
up the nine nine, givin' up that 1lello, makin' me sale--twenties, nickels and dimes. Beat up and stick up a lick up, that 
two-eleven, gotta get what's mine, then bailin'. Me kickin' up dust, I'm trailin', feelin' one-eight-seven. That's how it is, and I 
gotsta have it in the nine-quat. Mission: to check a mill and still be real. Thuggin' on the glock-glock, creepin' on [bad word] up, 
won't sleep 'til I'm done up, gotta blaze me blunt up, hunt up another plot and scheme, gotta make some green, 'cause soldiers 
nut up. What up? Gotta get that business on, even though the [bad word] me, stun me, feelin' lovely, but I'm just in it for the 
love of the money. 

For the love of money. 
Gotta make that money, man. 
That money, man. 
It's still the same, now. 

Eazy-E: 
Standin' on the corner, straight slangin' rocks. Aw, [bad word]  [bad word] the [bad word]  cops, so I dash, I duck, and I hides 
behind a tree, makin' sure the [bad word] don't see me. Now my fat sack of rocks- [bad word]  yeah, I stuffed 'em. Police on my 
draws. I had to pause, and yeah, it's still [bad word] 'em. Now my game is tight. Tight as [bad word] is my game. 
Eazy [bad word] -or Eric Wright it's all the same. Now, niggas might trip on how I stacks my grip. I gotta have it, [bad word]  
for the love of this [bad word]  [bad word]  

Gotta make that money, man. 
That money, man. 
It's still the same, now. 

Bizzy: 
When dough got me thugsta, thuggish ways, down for my crime everytime. Follow me down the nine nine, and you will find all 
of me kind. Check out the Ripsta, now, drop [bad word] 'em up outta me hood. Rip's straight when I'm makin' me grip with a 
me click, rollin' [bad word]  the thug I be. Me put 'em in mud, buck 'em, and pump blood. Got nothin' to lose, [bad word]  Ya 
better respect Rip, or ya best just check this slug. It's goin' down, steady pump and peel rounds, gunnin' with a me gang. 
Bang. Gotta make that money, man. It's still the same, [bad word]  thangs wild. And follow me now, while I take ya up into 
a barrel of a gun, see. For the dub, you're done. For the bud, [bad word]  for the love of my money. 

Krayzie:  [bad word] down for my thang off in this thug game. So peep as me creep and me crawlin' off on the mission to back in