Artist: Napoleon Album: Kingpin Wit Da Inkpen Song: Money, Cars, Clothes Typed by: Cno Evil [Napoleon] I live the life of a rockstar, manage the guitars Everywhere we go, we V.I.P., cuz we hoodstars Connected with the world's richest misunderstood czars Ten bedroom mansions, in them woods far The ice glisten, thirsty six core, we slicing percision Living Bad Charlie, white as tradition My street anthems sacred like Christ is religion (Money, cars, and clothes, that's how gangstas roll) Laid up in the Hilton, I'm like Michael Milkin Devil's Advocate, slow mass a mill' then We turn session A projects to crack buildings Trying to make a better way, for the black children That those essential, jealous foes thought the Rolls was a rental Still the terms, bound the clothes, confidential I'm real once disposed, I leave 'em foes in the mental (Money, cars, and clothes, that's how gangstas roll) Yeah, I got my swagger back, whatever ya'll smoking on I'm like a bag of that, a 20 gram slabber crack Bump with a pimp like Goldie, come and dazzle mack Only thing missing, some shafts on they Cadillac I stay loyal, caked up like I play for the Royals These screaming, every day, if they oil I never get popped with the damned foil (Money, cars, and clothes, that's how gangstas roll) Sky blue Bathing Ape, I'm a survivor like the winner of Amazing Race Rawer than a Asian ape Only dough we make that's illegal, stays in the safe Twenty five million or better, time to raise a stake Club life we sit bottles, then we twist models Make 'em go down low like pig snoggle I only catch feeling if your chick swallow (Money, cars, and clothes, that's how gangstas roll) No doubt we true dons, in the yukon Watching the satellite, baby, Jimmy Neutron Hoping that the judge give my mans and them a new bond Only thing them crackers respect, is a true con The streets know my life's official, hustle like some drizzle Handle rocks like the great white pistol Pole so hot, my flames in light missiles (Money, cars, and clothes, that's how gangstas roll) Now it's time to sum it up, to thank my man Not rich, our hate is dumb as fuck, the black Phillip Drumming, what Thugged out in tuxedos, Gucci's and button ups Everybody wanna be down all of a sudden, but Nah, D, I gotta blow, we got a lot of dough It's either music or, move the whole pile of snow The jewels that we got on our neck, really they not for show (Money, cars, and clothes, that's how gangstas roll) Now I'm bout to close the chapter, no longer o's of Casper I got the bowls, so the photo's can capture Solo's to rapture, damn, took a look at me now A guest feature? So goes the laughter Me, I'm in my after life, stones fracture life Anything ya'll got, we can match it twice Eighty five hundred a feature, if you ask polite (Money, cars, and clothes, that's how gangstas roll)