More Than Music lyrics

(feat. Hell Rell, J.R. Writer)
[Intro: Duke Da God]
In the beginnin' of this movement it was all a dream
The passion, the dedication, the persistence
To achieve greatness, to reach each and every speaker from here on out
We didn't land on the rock, we moved the rock
All my niggaz from state to state. All my niggaz from town to town
All my people from nation to nation, yes I brought somethin' powerful with me!
And yes I brought some powerful people with me!
And we'd like to present somethin' we call More Than Music
[Verse 1: Hell Rell]
Niggaz clap to the flow they applaud my music
We do this for the love Duke this is More Than Music
1's for the money and 2's for the show and
3's for the Cadillac ridin' on vogues, man
Can you imagine how we smashin'
This motherfuckin' game we got a right to braggin'
I ain't with the talkin' fam I see you and attack
And we the Byrdgang I threw this eagle on my back
The Bronx is where I reside haze got me hizzigh
I hustle to get rich; you hustle just to get by
How you cook your coke I ice water with mine
I'll burn all my money before I give a bitch mine
Picture Rell trickin' on 'em
They not envelopes picture Rell lickin' on 'em
The game switchin' on 'em
Still over the stove cookin' that raw
And I analyzed the game when Killa took me on tour
All the G's salutin' me bitches screamin' my name
Felt good to be on stage rocks gleam from the chain
I put my life on paper when I record my music
You can look me in my eyes and see it's More Than Music
[Verse 2: J.R. Writer]
Me I still tag play the groupies
After raw dog try to valet the hooptie
Sazzae a hoochie with bags made of Gucci
And truly take her to a ballet and movie
What you ain't understadin' shorty
Picture me blam the 40
I got a line up of killas tha'tll just blam you for me
Cause when I'm out its like Girls Gone Wild
Soon as I lift up my shirt the cameras on me
I freak a land of hoes sittin' on that Phantom Rolls
Pound down an O roll it in Habana golds
Sinatra dutches you gots to love it
Addressin' like dressin' catch up/ketchup the drop is mustard
See how I switch fag Jag with the rip rag
How many rides I own never been to Six Flags
If the bitch ask for me to really trick bags
I tell her kiss ass hit her with a Kiss laugh
Snitch you should go gossip with the chicks
I'm logically the shit a bottle full of Cris
That's Prada on my kicks your wife all on my dick
A pimp check the blue mink pocket full of chips
A lot of y'all sick corner based snort this tape
And when I rap scrap they say Lord have sake
The six-minute prince every rapper sorta hate
Cause I do it no pause breathers nor water breaks
They boy get stupid ain't no more to me
Ain't no more to see, I'm More Than Music
So the dudes lust 'em it's a movement fuck 'em
Writers Block for the hell of it and Duke Production