Kxng Shxt (Remix) [feat. DMX, Royce da 5'9" & Statik Selektah]

Make money, make money, money, money

Take money, take money, money, money

Make money, make money, money, money

Take money, take money, money, money

I'm KXNG Kong, this my theme song

With Sky on the hook, we touch Kareem's soul

Your team's on, homie, dream on

In the movie about pussies, you play the lead role

Sensitive rapper, oh, sensitive rappers

We meant to get active, we interact with killers and factors

We chillin' with trappers, we in the back with infamous jackers

And infinite clappers, whips to the back, the streets crackin' exactly like that

The streets give me a hundred dollar credit

Keep it one hundred, nothing's sweet like a fuckin' diabetic

And hip hop ain't dead, but radio programmers should be

Fuck it, I just said it, nothing regretted, unapologetic

This whole rap industry's like a survival quest

And the idiot sittin' behind the desk is your final test

First they'll censor you, then tax you like the IRS

Jerk me for my money, you better buy a vest

You better have a iron chest

It's like a couple pervs with ear fetishes

Fuck what you've heard, you're irrelevant

Whether jugglin' birds or hustlin' words

For mathematic, we 'bout action, that's numbers and verbs, yeah

Make money, make money, money, money

Take money, take money, money, money

Make money, make money, money, money

Take money, take money, money, money

Take money, take money, money, money

I'm a legendary rapper, clap a TEC quick

Blastin' at your baby bassinet

Snap a neck, snatch a necklace

All I see is money, pussy, fame, power

Sixty minute flights through them rain showers

That's because the plane's ours

'Bout to turn these money stacks to algebra

And shotgun your passenger

You about to take a dirt nap like Africa

And we the fuckin' money team, read it and weep

Ask me why I'm leavin' the D? I'm bob and weavin' the heat

Modesty is the least, while you respect is just a catch twenty-two

Give it to get it or expect it, just catch twenty-two

They call me King Karma, I've seen crowns laid down in extreme carnage

Put mean garments between me and armor

And I ain't even rhymin', man, I'm just bein' honest, man

I would have your body lyin' in your home

While your soul flyin' to the promise land

Bitches actin' like I gotta go home

'Cause I'm in they stomach like sonograms

Make money, make money, money, money

Take money, take money, money, money

Man, nobody talk a **** like I'm in a wheelchair (Money, money, money)

You stay tryna walk a ****, I'm from New York, ****

Pull out, bang 'em with the hawk, ****

Bom, bom, bom, outlined in chalk, ****

Stick a fork in a ****, I'm in the gym jumpin' rope

Liftin' weights, spidey mags, speedbags, you can't cope

Every word that I've ever said, you hang on to it

And even though I said it, it wasn't truth, you ain't gon' do it

'Cause I write in my books 'cause my books is what I say

And what I say is my life 'cause the life took away

'Cause the path has been dark for oh so long

Spit it from the heart from the start, it can't go wrong, ****

Make money, make money, money, money

Take money, take money, money, money

Make money, make money, money, money

Take money, take money, money, money

Make money, make money, money, money

Take money, take money, money, money

Make money, make money, money, money