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(LA The Darkman) |
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It's 9-5, I survive, Park shit is still real |
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You know stacks, money, drugs and the whole ordeal |
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Murderers that kill, Alize makes me ill |
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Jump in my rocket to the moon, spark an L and just chill |
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I got on stocks and bonds kid just because I want em |
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And billion dollar businesses with Darkman written on em |
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Not a front but an economical stunt |
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I want it all, I hope I didn't put that too blunt |
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Sellin yay, movin on up like the Jeffersons |
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Cop a Lex, a Jag, Land Cruiser and a Benz |
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And a mafia of friends to dispose my foes |
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Stand over my shoulder while I head crack a C-lo |
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Takin care of my peeps cause I know how it be |
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Mad court cases and white papers, that's all we see |
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>From the roll of poverty but I always got mine |
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Flow from New York to Michigan on the mainline |
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Now I'm in cash field still persuin my path |
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Sever the mic in half to unleash my wrath |
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I want an abundance of girls to escape the world |
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Throw a party on solo, me and seventeen pearls |
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Puffin on mad lai nigga without a regard |
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I need seven acres of dungeon blowin in my backyard |
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Full porch through the front and bathrooms as big as kitchens |
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2000 gallon aquarium to sink my sharks in |
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All home on a stake, my whole crew livin great |
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Enter the gate unannounced and you will meet your fate |
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I'm with Carlito's Way, rollin with the real |
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Protected to infinity in a security shield |
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Chorus: (2x) |
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I want it all |
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Surrounded by techs and shit |
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I want it all |
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A fly mansion with crazy kids |
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I want it all |
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A million dollars and diamond jewels |
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I want it all |
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I wanna pay these fuckin fools |
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I got big dreams for schemes to have diamond rings and cream |
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And tote nines with infrared beams |
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With crazy notions of makin motions |
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Floatin yachts on the ocean, travellin coast to coast and |
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My private jet, diamond studded links on my neck |
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A bouncer with 2 techs, a Presidential Rolex |
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Shined to perfection, my arms restin |
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On two breasts, we by the pound when it comes time for sessions |
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Morgan Cannon suits, cold hard boots |
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Crazy loot, rollin in Acura coupes |
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Chromed out revolvers, pearl paint to set it off |
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A million dollar crib plus a loft out north |
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And my capers stackin papers, draped out in luxury |
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Big screen TVs, plush leather livin comfortably |
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And my own private dancers to keep my dick up |
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Two big niggas for my pick ups, ready to do my stick ups |
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Two rottweilers named Cents and Dollar |
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4 carat diamond tennis bracelets draped around their necks for collars |
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My girl's got a cute 45 Infinity whip |
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With little windows to remedy my sound from all my enemies |
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It's ten to me, deadly killers up in the Bronx |
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PJs and killer waves, ain't a damn thing changed |
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I gotta snatch mine, get it before the whole world ends |
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Either it's Jesus to drink or to the fat Cuban link |
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Slingin stones on the medallion, I'll escape the island |
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Don't give a fuck about you, I'm from this island of Shaolin |
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Which way do you want it, I need condos and hoes |
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Set of vests, gortex, some black Timbos |
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850bm, a lighting system that's dim |
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Young deniro damager sittin above the rim |
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LA The Dark, my hustlin goal's to live great |
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Cause I'm a New York nigga catchin money out of state |
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Chorus (2x) |
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KnowI'msayin, LA The Dark baby |
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M-A-D A-V-E |
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Wu-Tang, knowI'msayin |
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Peace to my man Tyrik Jones, knowI'msayin |
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For puttin a nigga on strong |
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Doin right not wrong, cause I'm down to get it on |
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KnowI'msayin |
