[Chorus: Royce Da 5'9"]
It goes one for the money, two for that paper
Three for that drive to get it
You gotta dive in it
I guess that’s just in my spirit
N***a, I will walk, fly, try to get it

[Verse 1: Royce Da 5'9"]
I’m a representation of triumph
I don’t lose, therefore I guess it’s a waste of trying
I'm the check man
I do this shit strictly for the money every day
The love went away with X-Clan
The love kept me on the underground
Each verse went deeper and deeper so I had to resurface
Get the cake and keep working
Demonstrate a lesson to them every album
I can teach perfect
I ain’t a cheap person
But if you wound up underground and you ain’t hungry then you at least thirsty
The streets where it’s at my n***a
Blacking out ‘til the streets get cracked my n***a

[Chorus: Royce Da 5'9"]
It goes one for the money, two for that paper
Three for that drive to get it
Four’s for the raw metaphors and the way I spit it
N***a I will walk, fly, try to get it
It goes one for the money, two for that paper
Three for that drive to get it
Four’s for the raw metaphors and the way I spit it
And y’all will not eat until we get finished
[Verse 2: Skillz]
Yo the kid got game, the kid get props
The kid spitting the flames, the kid don’t stop
The kid been grinding now he’s getting that guap
I was visiting the bottom now I’m getting to the top
Doing what we do, that’s what we get the props for
This is for my dudes living like rock stars
One two three, three two one
Yeah the haters over there, but I keep ignoring them
I’m in the pit any day, just like a stockbroker
Nah, I ain’t flossing, I’m just living how I’m supposed to
Y’all get straight flushed like poker
Never thought it’d be Skillz on your baby mama’s poster
Told ya, doubters get knocked off
You ain’t believe me, but nines bout to pop off
That’s how we do it and we stack the stacks
It’s your boy Skillz homey, million dollar backpack

[Verse 3: Diamond D]
Too many clowns sweet and hard, nut and honey
Chasing fast cars and dreams, nuttin honeys
You know it life ain’t nothing funny
I went from bluffing dummies to world tours man, it’s nothing money
I’m surrounded by investors with Winchesters
Super X black shadow chin testers
I don’t run with jesters
So if I give you a pass know it was just a slim gesture
Too many n***as swallowing
Too many n***as running around with no business, that be frolicking
You in a bad space wallowing
I’m in the GL five-and-a-half with the bright halogen
Gucci moccasins, Benetton sweater
J.O.K. there’s never been a don better
Southern Bluefin prawns, ameretta
I fuck life with a vendetta
[Chorus: Royce Da 5'9"]
It goes one for the money, two for that paper
Three for that drive to get it
Four’s for the raw metaphors and the way I spit it
N***a I will walk, fly, try to get it
It goes one for the money, two for that paper
Three for that drive to get it
Four’s for the raw metaphors and the way I spit it
And y’all will not eat until we get finished