Cheddar (Feat. Ice Cube & Mack 10)

Uh, uh, come on

Gotta get the scrilla, gotta get the scrilla
Gotta get the cash, hey, come on, gotta get it
Gotta get the scrilla, gotta get the scrilla
Gotta get the cash, hey, come on, gotta get it
Gotta get the scrilla, gotta get the scrilla
Gotta get the cash, hey, come on, gotta get it
Gotta get the scrilla, gotta get the scrilla
Gotta get the cash, hey, come on, gotta get it

Riders please, callin' them all riders please

Blowing through the wind like that sticky green breeze

Back once again, straight faded off Hen
It's that nigga Dub-C with the pocket full of stem

Blinding all the haters with the new chrome feet
Checking through my rearview with my hand on my heat
'Cause haters can't stand to see a nigga doing good
But fuck Hollywood, I'ma still bang the hood
Getting my stalk on, walk on, look, I'm all about the paper
Hopping out the Navigator with braids and Chucks Taylors
A regulator, scoping the field like a commentator
Dodging investigators, haters, and salt shakers
The cookie baker, the six-four pancaker

Bitch, my whole entourage is full of kit makers and gators
Trip makers to Vegas with bird breakers and skyscrapers

Tipping the betters 'cause look, we's all about the cheddar

See, we down for whatever, it's all about the cheddar
I put that on my life and the twenty-third letter

Everybody get your scrilla
Don't worry 'bout your time zone, homie, get your grind on
See, we down for whatever, it's all about the cheddar
I put that on my life and the twenty-third letter
Everybody get your scrilla
Don't worry 'bout your time zone, baby, get your grind on
Bounce, baby, baby, bounce, baby, baby, bounce

To them out-of-town niggas, I still got 'em nannin' now
Can't rely on no label to send my kids to college
So after I rock the spot, meet me in the parking lot

Now call it what you want, but the game got me G's
With bitches on my dick since my last CD
I went from young black and broke up to Dub the Inevitable
Turning over three decimals, making an oyster perpetual
Let it go rags to riches, buckets to fillings
I went from no dough to more dough to still getting these switches
I'm looking for digits, forgive me, God, for the truth
But I fiend for cheddar like a smoker with a sweet tooth
Got game from Legit and 40, C-Mack and $hort

Cube told me the key to it all is to keep hustling, loc
Put your family first, and the rest will endeavor
Stay focused and forever we can get this cheddar, come on

See, we down for whatever, it's all about the cheddar
I put that on my life and the twenty-third letter
Everybody get your scrilla
Don't worry 'bout your time zone, homie, get your grind on
See, we down for whatever, it's all about the cheddar
I put that on my life and the twenty-third letter
Everybody get your scrilla
Don't worry 'bout your time zone, baby, get your grind on

Get it, get it
Get it, get it
Get it, get it
Get it, got it
Ring, di-di-di-ding, di-ding, di-giving it up
Out of the Westside of SC fucking it up
Ring, di-di-di-ding, di-ding, di-giving it up
Out of the

Hold up, nigga, wait, fuck that, yo (What's that?)
Yeah, I got dollars in my pocket, not from rolling
Janky as fuck, so you know my gold is stolen

From the ghettos of Cincinnati, Europe to killer Cali
I've been around the world and ya-ya like Puff Daddy
Looking for the cavi, yeah, caught in the drop
Connected with the don and copped one from Suave's house
But I'm back and stepped on it 'cause last year you slept on it
But now I'm up on it, giving golden showers to my opponents
Grinding 'til I'm paid in full

Pledging allegiance to them dollar bills
With gas on 'em bigger than pitbulls
Only true players can comprehend on what I'm talking about
Ayo, Mack, I think I'm over the can, loc, hear me out

See, we down for whatever, it's all about the cheddar
I put that on my life and the twenty-third letter
Everybody get your scrilla
Don't worry 'bout your time zone, homie, get your grind on
See, we down for whatever, it's all about the cheddar
I put that on my life and the twenty-third letter
Everybody get your scrilla
Don't worry 'bout your time zone, baby, get your grind on

Yeah, GUNH.O.M.E. Mack 1-0
With my G homie, the shadiest one, Dub-C
You know what I'm saying?
Cooking that one hundred percent pure bombay caviar
Bringing that shit to a hood near you, nigga, what?
Westside Riders, baby