Money in the Mattress

Verse 1: Elcamino:

Uh - La Musica de Harry Fraud
Only young nigga you know
They still keep a bundle for the fiends
Pullin' up hittin' licks in whips from overseas - skrrrrr
Only pull my dick out to piss on money trees and bad bitches you wouldn't understand, kid, 'cause you never had bitches - never
I played the back block, in the Porsche - skrr
Made the power move in two, now we in the forefront
Was kids watchin' Scooby-Doo
It ain't about what you know, it's who you knew - you know me nigga
I still pray like a Judas do extendin' the clip
Fuck it long as the shit removable it stay on the hip - word?
Pants saggin' got my bitch baggin' up work in a orderly fashion - bag up babe
Quick turned into shame daddy rappin' was static
I was gettin' the bag before I was established
Beams, clips and bullets I still keep the gadgets
Yachts, Bentleys and jewels shit you couldn't imagine
I get me a tool I finna let 'em have it
I'm still a king I sip Henny out the chalice - wha?
In the 600 Benz smokin' a yasis - skrr
Missin' runts and grunts I'm smokin' gasses
If I die, shit, the money in the mattress

Chorus: Elcamino:

I'm from a block where the fiends say the word hit oh so good, oh so good
Even when the slow shit we movin' on the low man I'm always in the hood, I'm always in the hood
When I was dead broke nigga I ain't have a clue lettin' days go by, days go by
Clutchin' on my grip, still heavy on the hip this finna be a homicide, finna be a homicide

Verse 2: 38 Spesh

Huh, ayo, before I had a bank account I had mattress money
My first check had to have my bitch cash it for me
Sellin' crack for this rap shit was mastered fully
Made cash from cookies, ski mask and hoodies, huh
Pounds on top of pounds like they was hashtags
A full pound and 40 pounds in a trash bag
Shot up the 6 Series, made him crash fast
Put a long arm to a 6 like it's half past, huh
You flash cash that belong to another man
Your whole stash could fit inside a rubberband
Go kick that woke shit to another man
I'm worried 'bout the motherload not the motherland
Last time I had beef he deceased, if it wasn't for police I wouldn't leave the streets
I'm Michael Corleone of the East, setting up a meeting with the boss to kill him and leave a piece, TRUST

Chorus:

I'm from a block where the fiends say the word hit oh so good, oh so good
Even when the slow shit we movin' on the low man I'm always in the hood, I'm always in the hood
When I was dead broke nigga I ain't have a clue lettin' days go by, days go by
Clutchin' on my grip, still heavy on the hip this finna be a homicide, finna be a homicide