*two gun shots*      It's a story about two brothers, Rob and Vic   Grew up in the world alone   God forgot about them, hmm   Forced to fend for themselves   In the Rotten Apples of New York City   This story takes place, in 1993      How many nigs did we get so far?   I couldn't care to count   Just snatch em up quick   If he scream, I'ma put him out   I put the heat to his face to SHUT HIM UP   so I can dig him out   Went in his pockets and got the cash in some big amounts   I looked him dead cold in his eyes, *blast* without carin   If money speak, that explain the voices I've been hearin   You ain't really have to kill him   Yo God he moved -- but I lied   Damn, there's our sick stick-up turned homicide   So? That's the way our momma died   Is you with me I'ma slide      [both]   So we slid, had to get our gameplan together   Cause this little bit of stickup loot ain't lastin us forever   Desperate, on the edge with no place to go   We can't go back to the hood we stuck up everyone we know      Chorus: *sung*      For the love of money, people will rob from each other   For the love of money, people will steal from their mother   For the love of money, people will kill their own brother..      Now everytime I hear a fuckin siren, my heart skip a beat   I'm paranoid, every face I see I think he after me   Supposedly   we was supposed to be gettin work from this large cat   But since we know where he rest at -- we goin Bogart!   Son frontin so hard   Heard he had a hundred G's alone on his Gold Card   His crab wife showed me mad cash in her blouse   She said he the mad stash at the house   Couldn't pass up a jooks like this anyday   Anyway   on our way there, I'm feelin bad vibes   Yo kid don't say that   That's when we bumped heads   with vicks that we stuck from way back, up on Atlantic   The way them niggaz lookin God they drivin mad frantic   Yo don't panic, trust me   What?   I jump back and bust em   Shots through they windshield, they ain't wearin shield   Hit the kid behind the steering wheel *car horn* it's the way I feel   In a state to kill I wanna watch him DIE   Wait and chill   We got bigger fish to fry, two L's later   in a Bed-Stuy elevator, got off the fifth floor   Water hit the skull, ready KICK THE DOOR   off the hinges   Bust shots right   Only thing I saw was a nigga four-four   His gun jammed   He tried to run and, reach for a knife   Shot him in the leg   So think about your life   and tell me where the loot's at   He said, "I'll tell you just don't shoot black!"   With the sight of fear, dragged him down six flight of stairs   to the basement, and in someway, he had a trap door in the pavement   Smacked him with the gun, kicked him out the way   Had to be at least 500 K   Now hear come the bitch, talkin bout her share of the wealth   So we put her and the husband out   and we went for self      Chorus      Yo, we fuckin came off!   Word   The plan was splendid   'Cept we got all this money, and can't even spend it   Shh, let's disappear   Yea yea   And be outta this place   So much dirt and shit we did it's hard to show our face   So we bounced out of town and went down to Miami   Cause most those cats we crabbed was like family   Now me and you beefin, nah it can't be true   It all started when all we had was just me and you   Now a whole different person is what I'm startin to see in you   'Member when we had the new Lex   with the two Techs, rollin to the duplex, drinkin Stout   Thinkin bout, what we gonna do next, we used to work tight   Half-assed cars, down to dirt bikes   Hopin everything will go right, with the snow white   and in number spots that flow all night   Up to this day it was all tight   Man, FUCK THAT!   You my little brother and we came out the same pussy   but I'ma kill you, you dummy, you FUCKED UP MY MONEY!   Nah, the money fucked YOU up   Tryin to say the money changed me?   What you think, I'm your brother, you got a gun in my face see   What??!   How can one tiny mistake, make you wannaerase me   Fuck that! You cut a side deal, that's why they raided the block   Now how the fuck I'm 'sposed to know the undercover was a cop   Son you been fuckin with them niggaz!   Look just put down the gun and let this bullshit slide   Nigga I ain't puttin down SHIT   I'm tellin you let's just chill man   FUCK THAT NIGGA!   It don't gotta be this way man   WHAT NIGGA? IT GOTTA BE THIS WAY!   IT DON'T GOTTA BE LIKE THIS MAN!   IT GOTTA BE NIGGA!   THEN GO AHEAD AND PULL THE TRIGGER!!   THINK I WON'T? FUCK YOU!   YOU KNOW YOU AIN'T GON' DO IT!   FUCK YOU! *gun blasts*      Chorus cont. with - Don't let money change you.. - before fade