Текст песни Samson - Stalley
Big
beard,
big
box
Never
thought
it
turn
into
a
Maybach
It's
a
cold
world,
we
all
know
the
answer
Gold
on
my
neck,
call
me
Samson
Money,
money,
money
every
day
that
my
beard
grows
Rap
prince
behind
dark
tints
Americana
paisley
prints,
the
cities
Clark
Kent
S
on
my
chest,
C
on
my
fitted
G's
on
my
denim,
John
Lennon
shades
Styrofoam
filled
with
lemonade
Surf
and
turf
dinner
plate
Came
from
a
bitter
place,
now
I'm
on
rich
estates
Seven
thousand
acre
escape
Jackson
wool
jacket
cape
Gold
drape
off
my
collar
Beard
longer
than
Samson's
Hand
strutin'
with
the
Delilah
Went
from
broke
to
a
baller
Spokes
on
the
Impala,
young
Sinatra
BCG
rat
pack,
Visvim
backpack
filled
with
dollars
Made
money
from
being
honest
and
these
fake
niggas
hate
it
That
a
real
nigga
made
it,
off
of
no
favors
Now
I'm
in
that
farm
house,
far
out,
with
no
neighbors
Got
more
haters
than
money
problems
Cause
every
day
my
beard
grows,
the
money
follows
Long
beard,
don't
care,
let
the
money
pile
up
The
child
of
the
sun,
so
I
shine
like
one
Intelligent
rap
nigga,
so
I
rhyme
like
one
Never
clung
to
dumb
niggas,
I
never
minded
them
Always
plain
Jane'd
my
wrist,
I
never
diamonded
them
But
I
always
take
risks,
that's
how
my
life
begun
One
mother,
one
sister,
without
a
bite
or
crumb
That's
why
I
write
on
this
paper
and
give
my
life
to
them
And
stack
all
this
paper
like
I'm
recycling
Why
I
attract
all
these
haters,
I'm
just
a
righteous
man
Maybe
cause
they
MC
Lyte,
paper
thin
But
I
give
'em
the
Stevie
J
rap
face
or
the
paper
grin
Won't
let
these
niggas
stop
my
hair
growth
on
my
chinny
chin
Money
long
like
Kevin
Durant
F
you
niggas
who
said
I
can't
Hold
up,
f
you
niggas
again
That's
just
how
I'm
feeling
man
Straight
up,
I
just
don't
be
caring,
this
cold
world
we
in
So
I'mma
get
this
paper
until
the
very
end
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