Door Man Lyrics - Til The Casket Drops - Clipse

(Chorus) 

Hey doorman, tell 'em line up the Cris' 

I put my money on the roof and crush this bitch 

You niggas keep wavin' them wrists 

I put my money on the roof and crush this bitch 

Ye ain't got money like this 

I put my money on the roof and crush this bitch 

So scream it If ya ambition fit 

I put my money on the roof and crush this bitch 

Sing it niggas, lalalalalalalalalala, ye ain't got money like this 

Lalalalalalalalalala, paper plates on a brand new six 

Lalalalalalalalalala, I just taught my young boys how to mix 

Lalalalalalalalalala, ye ain't seen paper like this nigga 

(Verse 1) 

Every all star, every Cancun, every holiday 

South Beach in full bloom, thousand dollar suites 

White sheets, white rooms, I got a bright future neck like a full moon 

Buy what we want, spend what they want 

Young, rich, hot nigga, everything she wants 

Triple beams scales got me under deep spells 

Kiss my forehead, momma knows I mean well 

Cocaine bought me everything I ever had 

And I ain't neva been scared, that's been my very last 

'Cause I can get it back, watch me get it back 

Last 2 o 10 bricks, shit I'm cookin' that 

(Chorus) 

(Verse 2) 

My life's too real to be a PSA 

The million in the ceiling is for a rainy day 

I cut it, than whip her like she Annie Mae 

Praise God, I escaped by his amazin' grace, nah neva was I savin' 'Face 

Some family ties aren't possible to break 

The almighty judge, only he can save me 

Don't cry for us now, just pray for our babies 

Mercedes 5, with the open roof, Miami hot rods and the ocean view 

The tell tale signs that expose the truth, Lil Willy Rat King this one's for you 

(Chorus) 

(Verse 3) 

We get it in a flash like paparazzi, cars, crib, everything big body 

Big charm, hangin' from my big chain 

Swing side to side feelin' like I'm T-Pain 

Pull up to the crib, bitch think she seein' thangs 

Make a hundred stacks blow it like it's pocket change 

(Verse 4) 

If the good die young, than the greats go to jail 

I miss my Tony, hope you snitches burn in Hell 

Kiss and tell, with sales on us ballers 

All because them two doors comin' with big spoilers 

All because them bitches is actin' like they jaw-less(?) 

And we don't count money, we weigh it like fish orders 

(Chorus)