Back to the previous page

Artist: Re-Up Gang f/ Clipse
Album:  Clipse Presents: Re-Up Gang
Song:   Million Dollar Corner
Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash

[Intro/Chorus: repeat 2X]
I got a million dollar corner, (million) million dollar corner
Million dollar corner, (million) million dollar corner
Ever since I got it like, e'rybody want it
Got a million dollar corner, (million) million dollar corner

[Verse One]
Million dollar corner from the school of the hard knocks
Built an empire off of hard rock, hard work
Freezin cold winters on the block in my longjohns
All heart semi-auto pistol in my Sean Johns

Three wings, fried rice, soup with the wontons
Fiends love my face, wavin they stems like pom-poms
Public Enemy peep, put my Africa charm on
"Night of the Living Bassheads" with the song on

Man the quarter's all gone, I re-up again
Give me 7 to bend, I got 2 in the crib
It's only 7 A.M., the early bird gets the worm
As I post pine wall in my dickie overalls

Handle my mission, strict protocol
3 A.M. and momma's so appalled
Crack in my clothes, she gon' call the law
And never look back like Sodom and Gomorrah

I got a while pal like it's Killamanjar~!
Cook it up Cypress Hill, "Kill a Man" raw
Pocket full of stones, back against the wall, burner on my side
Pourin liquor for my niggaz in the sky

Eye for an eye, I'm the meaning of simplify
My hoes circle me, the true meaning of pie
You caught up in my word like it's "Catcher in the Rye"
Stevie with the ki's is my "Ribbon in the Sky"

As I analyze all these clients all are mine
I think there's some inside while I sit up in that ride
Everyday this money gettin bigger
Cook up a whole drawer and put out dime size nickels, ya dig?

And I'm never in a pickle, ya dig?
Bail money straight cause I done saved for the drizzle
Fiends can't wait they know my work from the sizzle
Pistol in your face cause some niggaz need a visual

[Chorus]

[Verse Two]
I'm a boss now floss that, horse in the hood
Nigga do it to the sky, fire red like a torch
Now a bad bitch on my arm, whispered that I want her
Fly where it's warm, hang Louis bags on her

Feelin like Adonis, the roof is a goner
Sun hit the watch, wrist steam like a sauna
Drug money laundered, feds comin to harm us
Spend a lifetime, duckin dodgin my karma

Bentley with the armor, floatin on a cloud
Daddy blowin on the scarma bangin Mary J. "No Drama"
Thinkin how them Thomas got that common effect
I love pussy but what's better than sex is real paper player

Toss a brick like an easy lay-up
Powder more noses than Mac counter makeup
Thirty-six O's off, then counter Jacob
Hustle to the death until commonwealth erase us

I can see it clear through them Gucci Aviators
It's written on your face these niggaz is paper haters
The Pyrex pidgeon nigga what the block gave us
I'm third generation descendant of rock shavers

I fed the cravers, disregarded my neighbors
Sponsored them hoes, "Memoirs of a Geisha"
As I reveal that ain't how momma raised us
With audacity 'spect God to save us

Or Satan to condemn us for sinnin
Costin your soul, the price paid for alternate winnin
You see I'm lost on Crack Road and Cocaine Fall
How we started? On that Million Dollar Cor-ner

I'm just like Jack Horner with the pie in the corner
Like my uncles before us, we in line with the foreigners
Word on the streets is the feds comin to corner us
Just don't speak like WHEN and we gon' pay the lawyers

[Chorus]