Ft. Jeezy & Rick Ross

(Intro)
Dj still gon' kill this part
Ruffio on the beat, Troy Ave make the cypher complete 

(Hook)
Ya neva seen nothin' like this, brothers with the aim, I wish a nigga would boy 
A nigga sleepin with ur misses nigga call me young melo cuz scoring it's my shit boy
I’m CP3 cuz I be dishing and handleling the rock chef cooking with the pot boy
It’s all about the muthafuckin' money 
It’s all about the muthafuckin' money 
It’s all about the muthafuckin' money 
It’s all about the muthafuckin' money 

(Verse: Troy Ave)
Step up in this bitch wit my shades on
All I see is bandz, bitch, I got my raise on
Medula call me Mr. Rolex, nigga
This game so strong, they call me bowflex nigga
20.000 square feet, bitch, my crib way out
BK bar cleanse, bitch, I brought Jay out
14 bout my first presidential
Had the Mini 14 in the rental
Blue Lamb, yella Lamb, even had a light weight
Can't forget the kiwi dream, even had a Sprite one
Triple jake up all the Jacob (?)
Yo face a 10, big money be the case-o
Wassup!

(Hook)
Ya neva seen nothin' like this, brothers with the aim, I wish a nigga would boy 
A nigga sleepin with ur misses nigga call me young melo cuz scoring it's my shit boy
I’m CP3 cuz I be dishing and handleling the rock chef cooking with the pot boy
It’s all about the muthafuckin' money 
It’s all about the muthafuckin' money 
It’s all about the muthafuckin' money 
It’s all about the muthafuckin' money 

(Verse 2: Troy Ave)
I be in the hood, drop Wrangler
Toilet paper in my Porsche cuz I’m shitting
94th & Willmohr in the kitchen
Cookin' birds niggas sayin' thanks fo' givin'
Arnold Schwarzenegger arm from the whippin'
Won’t reply to ya niggas, sneak dissing
Suck a dick, when ya see me know I’m gripping!

(Hook)
It’s all about the muthafuckin' money 
It’s all about the muthafuckin' money 
It’s all about the muthafuckin' money 
It’s all about the muthafuckin' money 

(Verse 3: Jeezy)
No limit to my money I should get a tank
They walk me thru the back enterin' the bank
Base runnin' Aaron so I’m givin' hank
That’s a hit, had him hit leave the nigga plank
He got 6 feet, I got 6 figures
Nuthin' less but 6 shots comin' off the hip
Life’s a trip, life a gamble, I’m a big chippa
A thousand dolla hand wrist glitta, bitch nigga

(Hook)
Ya neva seen nothin' like this, brothers with the aim, I wish a nigga would boy 
A nigga sleepin with ur misses nigga call me young melo cuz scoring it's my shit boy
I’m CP3 cuz I be dishing and handleling the rock chef cooking with the pot boy
It’s all about the muthafuckin' money 
It’s all about the muthafuckin' money 
It’s all about the muthafuckin' money 
It’s all about the muthafuckin' money 

(Verse 4: Rick Ross)
Menace to society, cocaine brothers
My dog made three Feds magazine covers
Get shot for the beat, wash up on the beach
Butt naked full of hoes, Timbs on your feet
Ya stressed on the block, cover with the top
Backwards, stay strapped, smokin' in the dark
Sickin' bitch, ya fuckin' ?, how ya writing books?
I'm from the city testify and get yo body took
? rap, tell me cuz I got all the cheese
They had him in his ? now it's time to squeeze
50 stacks of carbon, boy, now pay the penalty
I'll call yo kids, I swear to God, you'll gon' remember me
Word to Piefull, it's time to see my nigga D
In a two seater, in Atlanta, pickin' up me
Ferrari or the Lambo, cuz I got em both
Begin took a chain, next ya know I got em smoked
Neva rob, baby, I'm so foreva mob
I'm out in Vegas at the ponds, playing peddle bomb
Push a button I can turn a bitch to battler raw
Kill yoself and then how ya rat on all ya dawgs?
Play my position, here I am so now it's time to ball
Troy Ave, now it's time to ball

(Hook)
It’s all about the muthafuckin' money 
It’s all about the muthafuckin' money 
It’s all about the muthafuckin' money 
It’s all about the muthafuckin' money 

(Verse 5)
I flourish under the fire, laugh in the face of doubt
You ain't got enough money, yo fingers are countin' you out
BSB records make the cipher complete
You'll remember one independent label in the streets
Can ya smell that? Free Abdulah Tim, gotta get my bruh back
She look to the FEDS, a protege of the deejays, always (?)