"Money Over Bullshit" lyrics
My niggas got scarred grills, skully hats and gats be fullies
Brat! Cars peel, the East Coast cartel
Rats get their tails snapped and trapped
The snitches in the streets and the snitches who rap
Pure euphoria, a dose of death to all of you
Coroner choruses sung from The Bridge to Astoria
Dreams of falling in the elevator, passing floors
Suddenly stop, the doors open up to a brick wall
I can smell the haters, wishful thinkers, bad-luck prayers
Picture your tarot cards and bodyguards getting sprayed up
Sabotaging my makeup, my watches get laced up
Even if they indicted Jacob
Forensics, paramedics, carry cowards off
Defibrillators shock to your chest, try to cough
They die and hit Hell from a iron
I'm fly in YSL, I'm paid from this shit
Got bitches high as hell, and they fucking like AIDS don't exist
They get sent to your hotel, I'm made in this shit
Put a barrel in a capo mouth, 'til his scalp come out
You a kid, you don't live what you rap about
King poetic, too many haters to count
Too much paper to count (QB, bitch!)
Join me in war, many will live, many will mourn (Mourn)
Money over bullshit, pistols over brawn
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
Join me in war, many will live, many will mourn (My own strength, nigga! That's what I'm afraid of!)
Money over bullshit, pistols over brawn (Hahaha)
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
Got seven candles lit, black wallpaper, black carpet
Thinking about which nigga to target
You kill a nigga today, he lives forever
So I plotted out smarter, there'll be no martyrs
Black TEC on the table, Mag' four-four
Black negligée on my bitch, she's at the door
Black fish eggs, nigga, that's the caviar
You niggas fish-made, y'all niggas is fifth grade, niggas
It's fifty ways to dissect the General
If I give ya the top five, you will not survive
Rule 1: Cocksucker, keep my name from your tongue
Rule 2: Thought you knew—don't fuck with God's Son
Rule 3: See, matter fact, I just wait
If y'all reach top five, then I'ma eat y'all alive
Each one of ya guys that claim hip-hop is still alive
Like y'all ain't in agreement with Nas
I said it's dead motherfucker, it's dead, bitch
Join me in war, many will live, many will mourn (It's dead, bitch!)
Money Over Bullshit, pistols over brawn
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
(My own strength nigga, that's what I'm scared of, ha-ha)
Join me in war, many will live, many will mourn
Money Over Bullshit, pistols over brawn
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
From crack pushers to Lac' pushers and ambushers
And morticians to fortresses, case-dismisses
Laced in riches, cake ridiculous
From nickel and dimin' to trickin' them diamonds
Vegas, places in Switzerland
From 9 blastin' to I don't have to blast mine
They blast mine, black 9, you flat line, my cash climb
Buy rare art, antique pieces, Mona Lisa's, own no leases
Five-star-restaurant eaters; don't forget who your peeps is
Supposed to dine with you, sip that good wine with you
Only if they grind with you or slang for ya
Seen niggas live, laugh, party and die in that very same corner
Pretty girls glance at us, status inconceivable
Private planes landed out in Teterboro, weed I twirl
Once even gave me a phobia, that I be in a spot trapped like Madame Zenobia's with this kid eyein' my Rollie, y'all
Join me in war, many will live, many will mourn
Money Over Bullshit, pistols over brawn
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
(My own strength nigga, that's what I'm scared of, ha-ha)
Join me in war, many will live, many will mourn
Money Over Bullshit, pistols over brawn
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
There it is, QB, bitch! Yeah
QB, bitch! Yeah, yeah... QB, bitch!
Brat! Cars peel, the East Coast cartel
Rats get their tails snapped and trapped
The snitches in the streets and the snitches who rap
Pure euphoria, a dose of death to all of you
Coroner choruses sung from The Bridge to Astoria
Dreams of falling in the elevator, passing floors
Suddenly stop, the doors open up to a brick wall
I can smell the haters, wishful thinkers, bad-luck prayers
Picture your tarot cards and bodyguards getting sprayed up
Sabotaging my makeup, my watches get laced up
Even if they indicted Jacob
Forensics, paramedics, carry cowards off
Defibrillators shock to your chest, try to cough
They die and hit Hell from a iron
I'm fly in YSL, I'm paid from this shit
Got bitches high as hell, and they fucking like AIDS don't exist
They get sent to your hotel, I'm made in this shit
Put a barrel in a capo mouth, 'til his scalp come out
You a kid, you don't live what you rap about
King poetic, too many haters to count
Too much paper to count (QB, bitch!)
Join me in war, many will live, many will mourn (Mourn)
Money over bullshit, pistols over brawn
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
Join me in war, many will live, many will mourn (My own strength, nigga! That's what I'm afraid of!)
Money over bullshit, pistols over brawn (Hahaha)
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
Got seven candles lit, black wallpaper, black carpet
Thinking about which nigga to target
You kill a nigga today, he lives forever
So I plotted out smarter, there'll be no martyrs
Black TEC on the table, Mag' four-four
Black negligée on my bitch, she's at the door
Black fish eggs, nigga, that's the caviar
You niggas fish-made, y'all niggas is fifth grade, niggas
It's fifty ways to dissect the General
If I give ya the top five, you will not survive
Rule 1: Cocksucker, keep my name from your tongue
Rule 2: Thought you knew—don't fuck with God's Son
Rule 3: See, matter fact, I just wait
If y'all reach top five, then I'ma eat y'all alive
Each one of ya guys that claim hip-hop is still alive
Like y'all ain't in agreement with Nas
I said it's dead motherfucker, it's dead, bitch
Join me in war, many will live, many will mourn (It's dead, bitch!)
Money Over Bullshit, pistols over brawn
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
(My own strength nigga, that's what I'm scared of, ha-ha)
Join me in war, many will live, many will mourn
Money Over Bullshit, pistols over brawn
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
From crack pushers to Lac' pushers and ambushers
And morticians to fortresses, case-dismisses
Laced in riches, cake ridiculous
From nickel and dimin' to trickin' them diamonds
Vegas, places in Switzerland
From 9 blastin' to I don't have to blast mine
They blast mine, black 9, you flat line, my cash climb
Buy rare art, antique pieces, Mona Lisa's, own no leases
Five-star-restaurant eaters; don't forget who your peeps is
Supposed to dine with you, sip that good wine with you
Only if they grind with you or slang for ya
Seen niggas live, laugh, party and die in that very same corner
Pretty girls glance at us, status inconceivable
Private planes landed out in Teterboro, weed I twirl
Once even gave me a phobia, that I be in a spot trapped like Madame Zenobia's with this kid eyein' my Rollie, y'all
Join me in war, many will live, many will mourn
Money Over Bullshit, pistols over brawn
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
(My own strength nigga, that's what I'm scared of, ha-ha)
Join me in war, many will live, many will mourn
Money Over Bullshit, pistols over brawn
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
There it is, QB, bitch! Yeah
QB, bitch! Yeah, yeah... QB, bitch!
Writer(s): Nasir Jones, Leshan Lewis, Wyatt E. L. Coleman
