(feat. Jay-Z, Angela Winbush)    [Verse One: Jay-Z]    We push the hottest V's, peel fast  through the city, play Monopoly with real cash  Me and Biggie and the models be, sugar nase and did he ask?  And parotta be, somethin you cats got to see  And the watches be all types and shapes of stones  Bein broke is childish and I'm quite grown  Run up in the club with the ice on, me and Python  Scope the spot out, see somethin nice and I'm gone  You cats is home, screamin the fight's on  I'm in the fifteen hundred seats, watchin Ty-son  Same night, same fight  But one of us cats ain't playin right, I let you tell it  People place yourselves in the shoes of two felons  And tell me you won't ball every chance you get  and any chance you hit, we live for the moment  Makes sense don't it? Now make dollars  Cats pop bottles bone chicks that pay for hors d'ourves  And rack up frequent flier mileage    [Chorus: Angela Winbush]    Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey  I love the dough, more than you know  Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey    [Verse Two: Notorious B.I.G.]    I'm poppin Magnums while Jigga bag somethin  Watch is platinum, got jet lag from  flights back and forth, pop corks of the best grapes  Make the best CD's and the best tapes  Don't forget the vinyl, take girls break spinals  Biggie be Richie like Lionel, shit  You seen the Jesus, dipped to H classes,  Ice project off lights, chick flashes  Blind your broke asses, even got rocks in big mustaches  Rock top fashions  Ain't shit changed, except the number after the dot  on the Range, way niggaz look at me now, kinda strange  I hate y'all too  Rather be in Carribean sand to rake through  It's unreal, out the blue Frank White got sex appeal  Bitches used to go, "Ewww!"  Still tote steel, tryin to see five mil  off the sin-gle, for real  You ain't fazin the amazin  While your gun's raisin, mine is blazin  See you on see me all talkin to sweetness  Take it for weakness and leave quick  Blocker, rocker, fellow, Bad Boy collabo  Two MC's with mad dough, jewelry on!    [Chorus: Angela Winbush]    I love the dough, more than you know  Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey  [repeat 2X]    [Verse Three: Jay-Z, Notorious B.I.G.]    Miracu-lous, pockets stay full  Niggaz skip the bull cause we matadors  Snatch the P-89's that we pack in the drawers  And we, clappin doors in your Acuras  Snap like, cameras or amateurs  Make you all dance, hold a hammer to yours  Jig and Big rock ice, no cracks in floors  Erybody got a part to play, back to yours  Run up in your crib now, crack your doors  Watch the real players live, it's a habit to floss  Play the charts like the Beatles, y'all ?dapped and lost?  And toast Cristal on behalf of y'all  Too bad for y'all, ain't too many as bad as yours  truly, do we, we laugh at y'all  Little bastards y'all  Uhh, uhh  We hit makers with acres  Roll shakers in Vegas, you can't break us  Lost chips on Lakers, gassed off Shaq  Country house, tennis courts on horseback  Ridin decidin cracked crab or lobster  Who say mobsters don't prosper  Niggaz is actors, niggaz deserve Oscars  Me I'm, critically acclaimed, slug past your brain  Reminesce on dames who, coochie used to stink  When we rocked house pieces and puffy Gucci links  Now we buy homes in unfamiliar places  Tito smile everytime he see our faces  Cases catch more than outfield-ers  Half these rappin cats, ain't seen war  Couldn't score if they had point game, they lame  Speak my name, I make em dash like Dame    [Chorus: Angela Winbush]    I love the dough, more than you know  Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey  [repeat to fade]