Power to the Peso Lyrics
| Song | Power to the Peso |
| Artist | Cappadonna |
| Album | The Struggle |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Fiokling | |
| (feat. Lounge, Wiggs & Solomon Childs) | |
| (Intro: Lounge Mode) | |
| Yeah, nigga! | |
| Aiyo, what up man? This is all BB right here | |
| Word, yo, we just slid in from the back door | |
| It's Code:Red, nigga, level four, ya'll know what it is, man | |
| I told ya'll, huh? I didn't? Watch this one, though (Goon Squad!) | |
| (Lounge Mode) | |
| Aiyo, I know niggas that get dusted and wild out | |
| They foul out, talk to the cops and play they style out | |
| Me? I'm real hood, and them niggas that was fakin' before | |
| I take they jaws, cuz Lord, I wish they would | |
| Yes, Lord, it's all good, you know I hustle | |
| In the tanktop with no muscle, all in the hood | |
| And roll dice by the elevator, and post up | |
| And wait there, if he comin' in, dog, gotta wait til later | |
| I squeeze off, ease off from the nine milly | |
| And my niggas be like, "Watch how he whine, Billy!" | |
| And for the record, these niggas gotta come kill me | |
| Where I'm at, in the Hill, by the Ooh, silly | |
| Danger, danger, ain't nothin' change but space | |
| Ask Space and Daxe, in how they manage | |
| And how I do damage, fuck takin' flicks for cameras | |
| You know them bandanas, run with them clip bananas | |
| I'm on the hunt for the big dough to stick Santana | |
| Plus these labels exec's come in a calm manner | |
| N.S.Beezy, I stay easy | |
| Fuck what ya'll niggas is talkin', I'm off the heezy | |
| (Cappadonna) | |
| In the hood, you get fake hugs and cold stares | |
| Heat holdin' niggas with the apple colored wears | |
| Try'nna get them greens, premature niggas get knocked out and dope fiend | |
| Niggas stand up, Staten Island, rip you and ya mans up | |
| Hands up, yeah, kid, it's the real | |
| Rough necks on this side, cats makin' a deal | |
| Coke in the bill, weapons appeal, do what ya feel | |
| From Park Hill to Jungle Nillz | |
| So much that we gotta pay the bills | |
| Give us the cream or get killed.... | |
| Goon Squad! | |
| (Wigz) | |
| Aiyo, my jewels so chunky, I got a brass monkey | |
| With a, rock in his ear, two chips in his tooth | |
| No cuff', I throw the ol' joint off the roof | |
| It's a new year, I'm layin' new words in the booth | |
| Fuck "The Truth", I'm "The Reason" why rap needs to +change+ | |
| The same four quarters in +the game+, I got change | |
| Nickles and dimes, rhymes, styles of Beneen | |
| See, Cash Rules Everything, lord, I need C.R.E.A.M. | |
| Gotta team that could elbow out the meat cooler | |
| I'm a hustler, I could sell a brick to a jeweler | |
| Off your front porch, g off ya back deck | |
| This me, Lounge and the team, we dishin' up the projects | |
| (Solomon Childs) | |
| We killas as sharp as knives | |
| Work for hire, special key be the paralyzer | |
| Got my own killa slang and dancers | |
| Certain hammers for certain circumstances | |
| These the roads of Allah's deed, knawhatimean? | |
| I took the advances and bulletproofed the Suburbans | |
| No handouts, stay earnin' mine | |
| The hood hate to see a nigga shine and now I know | |
| That a ho gon' always be a ho | |
| And 23's can't fit on a '98 Tahoe | |
| And ain't no superstars comin' off Apollo | |
| The chicks around the way frontin' with tongue rings, don't swallow | |
| My mind was raped as a child, Rocky could of never beat Apollo | |
| The feds could of never caught 'Cino | |
| P. Diddy would of never fell for a bird like J.Lo, power to the peso, nigga! |
| zuo ci : Fiokling | |
| feat. Lounge, Wiggs Solomon Childs | |
| Intro: Lounge Mode | |
| Yeah, nigga! | |
| Aiyo, what up man? This is all BB right here | |
| Word, yo, we just slid in from the back door | |
| It' s Code: Red, nigga, level four, ya' ll know what it is, man | |
| I told ya' ll, huh? I didn' t? Watch this one, though Goon Squad! | |
| Lounge Mode | |
| Aiyo, I know niggas that get dusted and wild out | |
| They foul out, talk to the cops and play they style out | |
| Me? I' m real hood, and them niggas that was fakin' before | |
| I take they jaws, cuz Lord, I wish they would | |
| Yes, Lord, it' s all good, you know I hustle | |
| In the tanktop with no muscle, all in the hood | |
| And roll dice by the elevator, and post up | |
| And wait there, if he comin' in, dog, gotta wait til later | |
| I squeeze off, ease off from the nine milly | |
| And my niggas be like, " Watch how he whine, Billy!" | |
| And for the record, these niggas gotta come kill me | |
| Where I' m at, in the Hill, by the Ooh, silly | |
| Danger, danger, ain' t nothin' change but space | |
| Ask Space and Daxe, in how they manage | |
| And how I do damage, fuck takin' flicks for cameras | |
| You know them bandanas, run with them clip bananas | |
| I' m on the hunt for the big dough to stick Santana | |
| Plus these labels exec' s come in a calm manner | |
| N. S. Beezy, I stay easy | |
| Fuck what ya' ll niggas is talkin', I' m off the heezy | |
| Cappadonna | |
| In the hood, you get fake hugs and cold stares | |
| Heat holdin' niggas with the apple colored wears | |
| Try' nna get them greens, premature niggas get knocked out and dope fiend | |
| Niggas stand up, Staten Island, rip you and ya mans up | |
| Hands up, yeah, kid, it' s the real | |
| Rough necks on this side, cats makin' a deal | |
| Coke in the bill, weapons appeal, do what ya feel | |
| From Park Hill to Jungle Nillz | |
| So much that we gotta pay the bills | |
| Give us the cream or get killed.... | |
| Goon Squad! | |
| Wigz | |
| Aiyo, my jewels so chunky, I got a brass monkey | |
| With a, rock in his ear, two chips in his tooth | |
| No cuff', I throw the ol' joint off the roof | |
| It' s a new year, I' m layin' new words in the booth | |
| Fuck " The Truth", I' m " The Reason" why rap needs to change | |
| The same four quarters in the game, I got change | |
| Nickles and dimes, rhymes, styles of Beneen | |
| See, Cash Rules Everything, lord, I need C. R. E. A. M. | |
| Gotta team that could elbow out the meat cooler | |
| I' m a hustler, I could sell a brick to a jeweler | |
| Off your front porch, g off ya back deck | |
| This me, Lounge and the team, we dishin' up the projects | |
| Solomon Childs | |
| We killas as sharp as knives | |
| Work for hire, special key be the paralyzer | |
| Got my own killa slang and dancers | |
| Certain hammers for certain circumstances | |
| These the roads of Allah' s deed, knawhatimean? | |
| I took the advances and bulletproofed the Suburbans | |
| No handouts, stay earnin' mine | |
| The hood hate to see a nigga shine and now I know | |
| That a ho gon' always be a ho | |
| And 23' s can' t fit on a ' 98 Tahoe | |
| And ain' t no superstars comin' off Apollo | |
| The chicks around the way frontin' with tongue rings, don' t swallow | |
| My mind was raped as a child, Rocky could of never beat Apollo | |
| The feds could of never caught ' Cino | |
| P. Diddy would of never fell for a bird like J. Lo, power to the peso, nigga! |
| zuò cí : Fiokling | |
| feat. Lounge, Wiggs Solomon Childs | |
| Intro: Lounge Mode | |
| Yeah, nigga! | |
| Aiyo, what up man? This is all BB right here | |
| Word, yo, we just slid in from the back door | |
| It' s Code: Red, nigga, level four, ya' ll know what it is, man | |
| I told ya' ll, huh? I didn' t? Watch this one, though Goon Squad! | |
| Lounge Mode | |
| Aiyo, I know niggas that get dusted and wild out | |
| They foul out, talk to the cops and play they style out | |
| Me? I' m real hood, and them niggas that was fakin' before | |
| I take they jaws, cuz Lord, I wish they would | |
| Yes, Lord, it' s all good, you know I hustle | |
| In the tanktop with no muscle, all in the hood | |
| And roll dice by the elevator, and post up | |
| And wait there, if he comin' in, dog, gotta wait til later | |
| I squeeze off, ease off from the nine milly | |
| And my niggas be like, " Watch how he whine, Billy!" | |
| And for the record, these niggas gotta come kill me | |
| Where I' m at, in the Hill, by the Ooh, silly | |
| Danger, danger, ain' t nothin' change but space | |
| Ask Space and Daxe, in how they manage | |
| And how I do damage, fuck takin' flicks for cameras | |
| You know them bandanas, run with them clip bananas | |
| I' m on the hunt for the big dough to stick Santana | |
| Plus these labels exec' s come in a calm manner | |
| N. S. Beezy, I stay easy | |
| Fuck what ya' ll niggas is talkin', I' m off the heezy | |
| Cappadonna | |
| In the hood, you get fake hugs and cold stares | |
| Heat holdin' niggas with the apple colored wears | |
| Try' nna get them greens, premature niggas get knocked out and dope fiend | |
| Niggas stand up, Staten Island, rip you and ya mans up | |
| Hands up, yeah, kid, it' s the real | |
| Rough necks on this side, cats makin' a deal | |
| Coke in the bill, weapons appeal, do what ya feel | |
| From Park Hill to Jungle Nillz | |
| So much that we gotta pay the bills | |
| Give us the cream or get killed.... | |
| Goon Squad! | |
| Wigz | |
| Aiyo, my jewels so chunky, I got a brass monkey | |
| With a, rock in his ear, two chips in his tooth | |
| No cuff', I throw the ol' joint off the roof | |
| It' s a new year, I' m layin' new words in the booth | |
| Fuck " The Truth", I' m " The Reason" why rap needs to change | |
| The same four quarters in the game, I got change | |
| Nickles and dimes, rhymes, styles of Beneen | |
| See, Cash Rules Everything, lord, I need C. R. E. A. M. | |
| Gotta team that could elbow out the meat cooler | |
| I' m a hustler, I could sell a brick to a jeweler | |
| Off your front porch, g off ya back deck | |
| This me, Lounge and the team, we dishin' up the projects | |
| Solomon Childs | |
| We killas as sharp as knives | |
| Work for hire, special key be the paralyzer | |
| Got my own killa slang and dancers | |
| Certain hammers for certain circumstances | |
| These the roads of Allah' s deed, knawhatimean? | |
| I took the advances and bulletproofed the Suburbans | |
| No handouts, stay earnin' mine | |
| The hood hate to see a nigga shine and now I know | |
| That a ho gon' always be a ho | |
| And 23' s can' t fit on a ' 98 Tahoe | |
| And ain' t no superstars comin' off Apollo | |
| The chicks around the way frontin' with tongue rings, don' t swallow | |
| My mind was raped as a child, Rocky could of never beat Apollo | |
| The feds could of never caught ' Cino | |
| P. Diddy would of never fell for a bird like J. Lo, power to the peso, nigga! |
Similar Songs
YouTube Results (More on YouTube)