Freundeskreis – FK 10 lyrics

Hey wassup Cube?
Man I'm glad I caught you at your momma' house homey
Wassup man? You still got your pager right or you lost it?
(It's the curse, the curse... the curse, the curse)
Y'know my code right? I been pagin you for about a week man
(The curse, the curse) I heard about the deal ya got
Greed, Khop (The curse, the curse)
Check this out, you owe a nigga somethin man

Do the math baby, do the math (Ch-ching)
Do the math baby, do the math (Ch-ching)
Do the math baby (The curse, the curse)
Do the math baby (The curse, the curse)

It's the curse of money, once you get it, fool you got it
Buy a new pair of drawers and motherfuckers spot it
Niggas plotted, to have me knotted up in basements
Till these cocksuckers see what they're faced with
Their fantasies of a life stress-free
Full of orgies, in the Florida Keys
But this bullshit is so thick, it's like mountains
Sick of threatenin all my lawyers and accountants
The decibals, gold diggers goin for the testicles
Soon they realise, I don't invest in hoes
Sometimes it's like hell on earth
When everybody tryin to get your ass for all your worth
It's the curse

Do the math baby, do the math (Ch-ching)
Do the math baby, do the math (Ch-ching)
Do the math baby (The curse, the curse)
Do the math baby (The curse, the curse)

When you hot, they think you got more than you got
When you not, motherfuckers callin you a flop
I just laugh, the curse everybody wanna have
Before you sell your soul better do the math

I start to scream shit like "May day, may day"
Cos motherfuckers think it's all grav-ay wit my pay day
And like I said, it's the curse of money
They start laughin at your jokes when they ain't that funny (Ha ha ha)
See this ass kissin yes man
Shakin hands with the left hand, get my weap-an, get to stepp-an
Fuck every phony ass nigga round me
Stick a shaft up your ass like Richie Roundtree (Yea yea!)
Got to have some gas money if you goin
If not who you fuckin? Who you flowin? Who you owin?
In '98 don't shit come free
Not even hard rhymes that's describin these hard times

Do the math baby, do the math (Ch-ching)
Do the math baby, do the math (Ch-ching)
Do the math baby (The curse, the curse)
Do the math baby (The curse, the curse)

When you hot, they think you got more than you got
When you not, motherfuckers callin you a flop
I just laugh, the curse everybody wanna have
Before you sell your soul better do the math

To relax I smoke a stick, the shit make me sick
Gotta gang of new homies, and relatives on my dick
No time for drama, busters get sprayed
Bitches wanna get layed, and everybody need their bills paid (Everybody)
Motherfuckers, sweat me like a spy
They wanna kick it cos I, got the curse of mulah
Make me wanna start scrappin and look at me to make it happen
What the fuck was they doin before Mack 10 was rappin?!? Tell me
(What the fuck?) how can I remain a man of seven figures
When I'm rushed by gold diggers everytime I get bigger? (Ch-ching)
Like David Banner, when I tweak I turn green
And everytime I'm seen it's like people start to fiend
It's the curse

Do the math baby, do the math (Ch-ching)
Do the math baby, do the math (Ch-ching)
Do the math baby (The curse, the curse)
Do the math baby (The curse, the curse)

When you hot, they think you got more than you got
Yeah they do
When you not, motherfuckers callin you a flop (Motherfuckers)
I just laugh, the curse everybody wanna have
Before you sell your soul better do the math (Better do it)
(The curse, the curse) Do the math baby
Get the fuck outta here
(The curse, the curse) Do the math baby
With dollar signs in your eyes
(The curse, the curse) Do the math baby (Ha ha, sheeit)
(The curse, the curse) Do the math

Leave your ass broke
Rabbit ears, nigga for pockets, haha he
I'm cursed! Hahaha, but I love it