[Intro: Murda Mase & Big L]
Yo, this Mase Murda, it's nothin' like this place I call home
Danger Zone
Where bullets will get placed in yo' dome
Danger Zone
Where bitch n***as ain't safe with they chromes
Danger Zone
And n***as'll stomp your face 'til you foam
Danger Zone, n***a
Uh, uh, uh, yeah
The NFL Crew and the Children of the Corn
Comin' straight from Money Maker, Manhattan
AKA Harlem, the home of the hustlers
You know how we do
Yeah

[Verse 1: Herb McGruff]
Yo, crooked corrupt criminal crime boss with cream
Cocaine hustler, blowin' out the brains of busters
Be in my mansion, chillin', inhalin' ganja smoke
Countin' mad cream, weighin' tons of coke
Guarded by thugs and Rottweilers
I flood the streets with drugs and clock dollars
N***as get plugged when my Glock hollers
Skunk smoker, Philly and Owl ripper, Cristal sipper
I've been a Willie for a while, n***a
Gruff got hoes, the man with all the nachos
Expensive hot clothes, drop-top Rolls
East Coast, West Coast, fiends overdose
Gruff get the cream wit' my team, then I'm ghost
[Verse 2: Murda Mase]
This money be temptin' me to jump out the MPV
Empty three clips of hollow-tips with no sympathy
Since fourteen, I sold Morphine for more green
Kept dope in the Nautica coat under the drawstring
And watched out for cops, squad cars, and Bimmers
And larger ninas, flee the country to Argentina
Lay back on the beach, yeah, coastin' with commuters
Smokin' the Buddhas on the cruise-line boat to Aruba
For a while, yo, pumped the vile so I could pile dough
Then become a Harlem kingpin just like Alpo
Get paid so I can lay low in San Diego
With yayo, and ship it out whenever I say so

[Chorus: Big L & Murda Mase]
Yo, makin' that money's the American Dream
East Coast to West Coast, you know what I mean
Whether it's Uptown or Downtown, you pick the scene
You got to get your own scheme, we ain't splittin' this green

[Verse 3: Killa Cam]
And in Florida it's Kam's Orlando, livin' Soprano
Me and my Cuban connection Fernando
Sellin' bags of camo, streets we ran with ammo
See me late night, take flight
Drop intruders eight flights
Hold my blade tight
Forced to do wrong to make right
And now they got this daddy braggin'
But last year, had me saggin'
Wasn't ready when Teddy was baggin'
Tossed me in the paddy wagon
And life's an obstacle, often I just stop and pull
Brothers like to act, that's why I make sure that the Glock is full
Reporters shootin' photos of Killa shootin' the Glock, I'm loco
Drinkin' vodka dolo, sellin' yayo in Acapulco
So all the fame without the fortune? Goddamn, you wrong
Killa kid Cameron, survivin' in the Amazon
[Verse 4: Bloodshed]
Yo, I leave you dazed and froze with all kinds of amazin' flows
Money surrounded, I count it while bathin' with Asian hoes
Back home, n***as is after me
I'm past the sea sippin' Daiquiris
Coke factories, fiends baggin' up crack for me
From cuttin' up rocks to investin' in stocks
Nautica yachts and knots bustin' out of my socks
Now that Blood's paid and chubby, all the ladies love me
They hate who made me hubby
Behind my back, they say my baby's ugly
Each night, I sleep with freaks with Lamborghini Jeeps
Neighbors be sneekin' peeks at how my semen leaks between the sheets
Mess up my loot, I'll cut your collar, swine
'Cause these is modern times
And the only thing I see is dollar signs

[Chorus: Big L & Murda Mase]
Yo, makin' that money's the American Dream
East Coast to West Coast, you know what I mean
Whether it's Uptown or Downtown, you pick the scene
You got to get your own scheme, we ain't splittin' this green

[Verse 5: Big L & Herb McGruff]
Check it
To be seen clean in the mean Bimm' is every teen's dream
Big L's a cream fiend with more green than Springsteen
You know I'm crazy quick to smack a groupie
I'm known to mack a hoochie
Do I got stacks of lucci? (Absolutely)
Harlem kids is known for felonies and sellin' keys
Pushin' 300Zs, GS3s, and puffin' trees
These Gs breeze while DTs be yellin, "Freeze!"
We stash cheese and keep a pocket full of centuries
Ayo, I'm set for the rest of my life
Some clown that laid a threat 'cause I had sex with his wife
I stuck my tool to his brain, said, "Act a fool and get slain"
N***a, your bitch chose me, you know the rules to the game
[Chorus: Big L & Murda Mase]
Yo, makin' that money's the American Dream
East Coast to West Coast, you know what I mean
Whether it's Uptown or Downtown, you pick the scene
You got to get your own scheme, we ain't splittin' this green
Yo, makin' that money's the American Dream
East Coast to West Coast, you know what I mean
Whether it's Uptown or Downtown, you pick the scene
You got to get your own scheme, we ain't splittin' this green

[Outro: Big L, Herb McGruff & Murda Mase]
Yeah, yeah
Real East Coast cap peelers
Yeah, this cream don't stop, baby
Yeah, since all y'all n***as want to be players and shit, I guess that makes us coaches
Aight?
Word up, yo, you know what?
Let's go hit some other n***as' girls right now, yo
Oh, yeah
Get up out this joint