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"Timbo King! Yeah!" - Jay-Z (sample) *scratched throughout*
[Intro: Timbo King] Yeah, once I get in contact wit them, you know what I`m sayin` It`s over, half that to half, yeah Got to see this paper, yeah, Fort Knox, blocks of gold Through the hood we struck oil, struck oil in the hood Thug Corporate, I`m lookin` at the feds right now, money, yo, yo [Timbo King] Top boss, ya`ll just employees, yeah we live tax free Cuz we don`t count money, nigga, we about money Punch you in your shit, you run, you run your mouth, money I, it`s official funds, straight bankrupt niggas We corporate thugs wit brim tank truck figures Rock, A-1 credit, nigga, charge the game Cuz ya`ll shouldn`t have used my name out in vain I fire, ya`ll niggas on a Monday morning It`s nine A.M., office talk, shoot a guy wit a suit and tie We doin` business, here`s my card Call my secretary, ya`ll niggas secondary We meeting, we eatin`, French benefits this weekend Write it off, be them niggas that`ll fight it off This month`s gross, I`m on some mill 900 thou`, we short a buck, but fuck it Brick face clothes over seas Niggas argue over g`s, all we want is royalties D.J.`s spin it like a fee, where`s the bill? The only Bill we know is from M.O.P. [Chorus: Timbo King] We the pro`s in motion, without promotions Buy or sell, we could wire that, hour well Number one drive, call us the banker boys Corporate thugs, self employed, got game Certified work on the streets, nine to five Fuck around and get shot, my nine spit five Done things, C.E.O. nigga, we run things Yeah, run things, yeah, sun things From the streets to the office, thug corporate [Timbo King] Let off a hot one, get shot in your grill Shit will muthafucka, you can die wit a deal You see the corporate seal, official, first I`ll bounce your check Collect that, then go smoke an ounce wit R.E.C. Connect with my familia, Spanish fly Executive class, ya`ll cats standin` by No cash now, we pushin` off the lot Icy gray, let Toni Braxton play Work after eleven, not chapter 11 Fuck wit us you`ll be on the news after eleven Tailor made stitch, my shit better than yours Front row seat Grammy Awards, y`all them niggas wit them Honda Accords We Lincoln Town car, doin` highway miles Church Ave., Kings Highway style Meanwhile, females you can e-mail me We online, appointment at 3 o`clock, we on time Exchange currents, pounds to yen Some where in Hong Kong with Chong Fue Cheng From the streets to the office, thug corporate [Chorus] [Outro: Timbo King] Fort Knox, blocks of gold You agree, I agree, nigga
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