Lyrics:

(Rakim)Ay, yo this right here man, it''s like the documentary of a gangsta man, the rise and fall(IQ)How them boys gon'' play me? They must be crazy, baby, oh you better pay me(Rakim)I ain''t playin'' wit y''all(IQ)How them actors gon'' act up, like I ain''t got back up, back up ''for you get smacked up(Rakim)Where my paper man?(IQ)Why they wanna play games with me? But they don''t know that I''m crazy(Rakim)Don''t make me kill someone.(IQ)I don''t know what they thinking, they must''ve been drinkin''.(Rakim)But what?(IQ)I''m that king pin(Rakim)He said slow papers, you''re out oh.It''s like spittin'', heresy is all about flowLike he can''t eat his cake and he starve when the count lowHe call the lab the bakery, he all about doughStuffin'' bread, his pockets is hungryYou talkin'' nonsense, unless the topic is moneyHe call a hundred dollars a hunny, mommy''s he call ''em dimesSo his mind''s on his money, but mommy''s is on his mindLike a o.g. focused on the come-up,Think he f-in around? He approachin'' with the gun-up (bam)Roll a blunt up and forget it happenedStash the dollars, bag the product and get it crackin''He get pies, he flippin'' ''em tricks, he trickin'' ''emHe call ''em heifers, he hugh heffin'' ''em, he pimpin'' ''em (where my money)Fonzie, getting them ones for the connectSo have them ones correct when he come and collect (here he come)Hook (IQ)(Rakim)That sound like blood moneyAnd I ain''t just talking double dubs and club moneyI''m talking drug money, move out the hood moneyDouble up money, you could catch a slug moneyThis kid''ll murder you, more than the businessIf you livin'' for revenue its principal never personalGet rid of you if you blockin'' the bigger pictureHe on the block thinkin'' a gwop is gettin'' richer (get them ones)He flipped some urban blue, played with them keysFor them c-notes, so he can handle the whole pianoHammers unloadin'' ammo, if his army ain''t in harmonyHe kill his own fam-o, like tony sopranoHe''s tryin'' to take it from minor to major and grind for the caperHis mind is made up, he''ll die for the paperCrime is second nature when you love cashDo ''em dirty, he turned the ave into a blood bath (here he come)Hook (IQ)(Rakim)The heater bustin'' mean the reaper comin''Drug money keep him buggin'' out the trees he puffin''Streets is buzzin'' ''bout the repercussionBut he so much in love with his bread, the beef is nothin'' (ain''t nothin'' man)He got medals for war, just like a veteranBut now he bringin'' cheddar in, more than he ever been,Banked up, he stepped his hustle - pimp, smoke, coke, crackHeroin game up, American gangsta (uh huh)Sleep with the fish while he ran the loot andYou like ballin? He like stealin'' and shootin''Comrades, customers, competition connect (don''t matter)Some hustlers is wishin'' and plottin'' the day of his death (bring it on man)What''s his focus? Keys is.Even with karma catchin'' up, it''s hard to set him up, he always holdin'' heaters (whoa)But yo, they know his weakness, so they gave that bread to himSomebody put a gun to his head, guess what he said to ''em?Hook (IQ)