Artist: Styliztik Album: The Pac Album (Compilation) Song: Mo' Money Typed by: mover2k@swbell.net Yeah, Classics... it's true LA Back as a little lad, tears on my pillow,had me Workin' the block, hard as a brillo pair,he Searchin' the block high off a nickel-bag I searched my room, found my chrome mini-mag Now we own one and won't give my pistol back Guess he didn't figure, I want the hate 'zine Mama said I'm 18, so I gotta shake scene So I move on my daydreams Like the A-Team [Chorus] Mo money, mo money, mo Mo burden, Mo burden, mo Not funny, not funny, no Gotta have heat, this world is so cold [Repeat chorus] I'm the young Mr. T, with THC All through my respiratory, that's mandatory Self-explanatory The black MacGyver Wolfpack Messiah The Rappin' sire, spit Rapid fire, that's a strap No heat in these streets That's a wrap With no rap for us, you can trust It's a home robbery, and we wrap you up. yep All my homies kept guns, so I kept one The hood had love for me, like I was a stepson Even when I'm spaced out, high as the jetsons Not Elroy, do not tell boy But you do not know Cause you do not help the boy Heat smelt the boy Boy will grow, jails will blow Half your brains out so to hell you go. Yep [Chorus 2X] No jewels on my neck, but my minds an emerald Police shine lights tryin to find new criminals I don't speak to y'all, but I rhyme subliminal With y'all street soldiers, and I'm the general My physical is pitiful, pistols make you invisible My livings ain't livable, I slang from my living room And I know that my livers doomed We all in the killer mood, life wasn't silver spoons No Ricky Schroeder, just Dickie Dozier, Pac And we thug unorthodox I wanna change, but its hard to abort the block They trained a young champ in his sport to box Dead bodies, rigor mortis, the corpse of rot Don't report to the cops from the porch when it's hot Tryin' to watch everything, like reporters watch I'ma rap til this hot damn recording stop [Chorus 2X]