[Verse 1]
Stack notes, chase ghosts, man’s patternin’ the paper,
Still hungry in the ends, I ain’t eatin’ till it’s major,
D**d faces in the pocket, but the opps still lurk,
Every pound that I flip got me buried in the dirt.
Cold nights on the strip, mandem movin’ with the frost,
Count wins on my hand, double that against the loss,
Say prayers for the block, but the block don’t care,
Every move’s another stain, man, the system ain’t fair.
F**k sleep, eyes wide, demons talkin’ through the note,
Money callin’ like a plug, got me grippin’ on my coat,
D**d presidents in stacks, but the coffin feels the same,
Rich yute, broke yute, still dyin’ in the game.
[Hook]
D**d presidents, stack ’em in rows,
Money don’t talk but the silence still shows,
F**k all the chatter, I’m grippin’ my soul,
Ends stay cold, that’s the life that I know.
D**d presidents, watch how they move,
Power in silence, it’s deeper than proof,
Countin’ the opps with the wins that we spin,
Pray for the saints but we bathe in our sin.
[Verse 2]
Trust thin, notes thick, bruv I keep it with the blade,
If the feds hit the door, then the block gettin’ sprayed,
Man’s lurkin’ through the night just to buy another day,
But the shadows in the alley never really go away.
See a suit in the whip, same dirt, different skin,
Politicians on the chat like the trappers on the ring,
We been dyin’ for the sterling, they been lyin’ for the vote,
D**d presidents the crown, and the mandem cut throats.
B***d stains on the note still fold like legit,
Prayers up to the sky, but the Lord don’t give a shit,
So I etch my name raw on the wall in the cold,
’Cause your name fades quick, only money ever holds.
[Hook]
D**d presidents, stack ’em in rows,
Money don’t talk but the silence still shows,
F**k all the chatter, I’m grippin’ my soul,
Ends stay cold, that’s the life that I know.
D**d presidents, watch how they move,
Power in silence, it’s deeper than proof,
Countin’ the opps with the wins that we spin,
Pray for the saints but we bathe in our sin.
[Verse 3]
Lights flash, sirens, bruv I duck in the mist,
If the notes ain’t enough, then it’s iron in the fist,
Mandem runnin’ with the hunger, and it never let us rest,
Even death got a tag, even pain got a debt.
All the faces on the sterling look the same when they fade,
Doesn’t matter who they crown, all the power still decays,
So I stack what I can, let it rot where it sits,
D**d presidents the law, and we all counterfeit.
[Bridge]
I hear whispers in the notes, I see coffins in the cash,
Every pound, every dollar, just a shackle on my back,
We was raised by the hunger, we was fed by the cold,
Now we pray to d**d faces like they savin’ our souls.
But the graves still open, and the opps still lurk,
Every deal that I made just a fuckin’ curse of work,
If the money never loved me, why I die for the win?
D**d presidents forever, and they live in my skin.