"Dead Presidents, Pt. 2 [New Lyrics]" as written by and Shawn C/phillips Carter....
"Presidents to represent me" "Get money!"
"I'm out for presidents to represent me" "Get money!"
"I'm out for presidents to represent me" "Get money!"
"I'm out for dead fuckin' presidents to represent me (Whose)"

Rock on, Roc-A-Fella y'all
The saga continues

Ah, who wanna bet us that we don't touch leathers
Stack cheddars forever, live treacherous all the et ceteras
To the death of us, me and my confidants, we shine
You feel the ambiance, y'all niggas just rhyme
By the ounce dough accumulates like snow
We don't just shine, we illuminate the whole show, you feel me?
Factions from the other side would love to kill me
Spill three quarts of my blood into the street, let alone the heat
Fuck em, we hate a nigga lovin' this life
In all possible ways, know the Feds is buggin' my life
Hospital days, reflectin' when my man laid up
On the Uptown high block he got his side sprayed up
I saw his life slippin', this is a minor set back
Yo, still in all we livin', just dream about the get back
That made him smile though his eyes said, "Pray for me"
I'll do you one better and slay these niggas faithfully
Murder is a tough thing to digest, it's a slow process
And I ain't got nothin' but time
I had near brushes, not to mention three shots
Close range, never touched me, divine intervention
Can't stop I, from drinkin' Mai-Tai's, with Ty Ty
Down in Nevada, ha ha, Poppa, word life
I dabbled in crazy weight without rap, I was crazy straight
Partner, I'm still spendin' money from eighty-eight what?


Geyeah, know what? I'll make..
You and your wack mans fold like bad hands
Roll like Monopoly, ad-vance you copy me
Like white crystals, I gross the most
At the end of the fiscal year than these niggas can wish to
The dead presidential, canidate
With the sprinkles and the presidential, ice that'll offend you
In due time when crime fleas my mind
All sneak thieves and playa haters can shine
But until then I keep the trillion cut diamonds shinin' brilliant
I'll tell you half the story, the rest you fill it in
Long as the villain win
I spend Japan yen, attend major events
Catch me in the joints, convinced my iguanas is bitin'
J-A-Y hyphen, controllin', manipulatin'
I got a good life man, pounds and pence
'Nough dollars make sense, while you ride the bench
Catch me swinging for the fence
Dead Presidents, ya know


Uh-huh, yeah, uh-huh, so be it
The Soviet, The Unified Steady Flow
You already know, you light I'm heavy roll, heavy dough
Mic machete'd your flow, your paper falls slow
Like confetti, mines a steady grow, bet he glow
Pay five dead it from blow, better believe I have
Eleven sixty to show, my doe flip like Tae-Kwon
Jay-Z The Icon, baby, you like Dom, maybe this Cristal's
To change your life huh, roll with the winners
Heavy spenders like hit records: Roc-A-Fella
Don't get it corrected this shit is perfected
From chips to chicks just strip in a Lexus
Make it without your gun, we takin' everything you brung
We cake and you niggas is fake and we gettin' it done
Crime Family, well connected Jay-Z
And you fake thugs is Unplugged like MTV
I empty three, take your treasure, my pleasure
Dead presidentials, politics as usual

"Dead fuckin' presidents to represent me (Whose)"
"Dead fuckin' presidents to represent me (Whose)"
"Dead fuckin' presidents to represent me (Whose)"
"Dead fuckin' presidents to represent me (Whose)"

[Chorus: x2]

Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings

"Dead Presidents, Pt. 2" as written by David Anthony Willis Lonnie Liston Smith

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group

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Dead Presidents, Pt. 2 [New Lyrics] song meanings
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