Stack Yo Paypuh

[Verse 1: E-Fav]
Hey
One time for ya
One time for ya
Yeah (CSF, nigga... uh)
Uh
Yeah
It's that
Uh, yeah
Feel this shit, uh
It's like, uh

It's like one, two, three and to the four
E-Fav, CSF knocking at yo door
Ready to get my paper, my fetti, my cheddar
Ch-ch-ch-check it, I know you gotta respect it
While I deposit this message
We clean it up, redirect it, and teach the youth
Better beat up the booth
Bitch you know I speak truth
While you is looking like a collection of Who's Who
Why you looking so confused?
Bitch I'm talking 'bout you (you, you, you)
But back to the topic, here to fatten up my wallet
Have my bank account resembling the encoded doctrine
Letters, numbers, zeroes, commas, all of the above
On my mama ho, I promise I'mma represent the club
(?) Pimping, Baby

[Hook]
Stack yo, stack yo, stack yo paypuh
I need a blunt to the face, thinking about tomorrow
Live for today, fuck drowning in your sorrow
Get up, get up, go out and get it nigga
Get up, get up, go out and get it nigga
Stack yo paypuh, major, baby (x3)
Stack it up, stack it up

[Verse 2: Noveliss]
Check
Check
Look
Get it, get it, however you can
Before money root us all try to go back if you can
Like, like, sometimes I wish I was a kid again
Santa better eat these cookies if I leave 'em out for him
Mama had us believing in hard working
Now my inner child still at large like Harold Berman
Gerald, Hey Arnold, Helga
Jump shot, street lights, home, Zelda
Picture that nappy headed boy watching cartoons
When Mama left for work, his heels was on the tube
Shoes, Nike Air Flight Huarache
Reggie Miller wannabe shooting jumpers like mama watch me
Cross over like Tim Hardaway, floater like Tony Parker kid
Funny looking Michael Ray jumper got me a scholarship
Now my son in Space Jams watching Space Jam
Same way I used to look, hoop dreams and rhyme books

[Verse 3: Ilajide]
Divine crook, don't ask me how I got it
The non college prophet with no squalor in his wallet
Scheme things solid been grim in the 70s
In order for me to get on, I broke a couple felonies
Shame that a talent rapping is irrele-v
Chevy speed got at me with the crews like Penelope
Firearm Wesley, you, you, you want it?
Recipe money, more cream then the Nestlé bunny
Now who want it
Hands up now, its fantastic
Dealers still need a deal, P-L-astic
The dollar for my thoughts, fuck a penny son
Beast in my wrist, Ben 10
We get it done, you dip and run
Strong as adamantium, captain never Branium
This shield is from the stars now I'm cussing like I'm anti sun
Bi-atch, bi-atch with the shee-ot, shee-ot
Catch Ila, Ila at the e ah ah

[Hook]

[Verse 4: L.A.Z]
On the scene, with the "damn, I need some money" look
Never duck bills like a platypus, understood (get it)
This for my niggas buying shit that could afford it
You in your Mom's crib, but you got them new Jordan's (lame)
I'm buying out the bar, my first check from recording
But I'm still broke, so I ball on a budget (you broke nigga)
Hoes, cars, weed, amongst things
Chains, rings, my stars shine like bling bling
Bling out, 'bout to charge fees for freestyles
Used to try not see before, but see now
Folks telling us the dance get sales down
I tell them niggas back they ass up and slow down
Y'all been telling lies, I'mma keep shit real
If skills pay the bills when Bill Gates will
I got the will to write a milli songs with no deal
Until the day I post up parked on Maybach wheels
I used to daydream at Busch's going loco
Now we got fans in Sudan we going global
Play our CD in DC at a go-go
West coast LBC in a low-low
I heard they even begged departure out in Tokyo
Everywhere we go, people love us

[Hook]