The Notorious B.I.G. Ft JAY-Z & Angela Winbush – I Love the Dough Lyrics

Biggie and Jay-Z convincingly refute the popular misconception that money can’t buy happiness

Line by line, the two explain the many ways in which their glamorous lifestyles are superior to those with lesser fortunes. Their excessive riches entitle them to a number of elite perks, including cordon bleu alcohol, classy (or at least hygienic) women, opulent jewelry, front row seats at various sporting events, killing you, and more

So as not to suggest any misogynistic undertones, a woman sings the hook, where she too explicitly expresses her love for money. Balling is an equal opportunity activity

“I Love the Dough” contains a sample and interpolation of “I Love You More” by Rene & Angela, and “Da Ya Think I’m Sexy?” by Rod Stewart.

I Love the Dough Lyrics by The Notorious B.I.G. Ft JAY-Z & Angela Winbush

[Intro: JAY-Z]
Uhh, uhh
Uhh, uhh, uhh, uhh, what
Hah, what, how real is this?
Uhh, uhh, how real is this?
What? Uhh, what?
Uhh

[Verse 1: 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 shakin’ they sadiddy ass
And Prada 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 Paisan
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’ Tyson
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 favor Idalis
And rack up frequent flight 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 2: The 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 CDs and the best tapes
Don’t forget the vinyl; take girls, break spinals
Biggie be Richie like Lionel, shit
You seen the Jesús, dipped to H classes
Ice project off lights, chick flashes
Blind your broke asses
Even got rocks in the beards and mustaches; rock top fashions
Ain’t shit changed, ‘cept the number after the dot on the Range
Way niggas look at me now, kinda strange
I hate y’all too
Rather be in Caribbean sands with Rachel
It’s unreal, out the blue Frank White got sex appeal
Bitches used to go, “Ewww!”
Still tote steel, I’m tryin’ to see five mil off the single, for real
You ain’t fazin’ the amazin’
While your gun’s raisin’, mine is blazin’
See you want see me all talkin’ to sweetness
Take it for weakness and leave quick
Blocka, Roc-A-Fella, Bad Boy collabo
Two MCs with mad dough, you know

[Chorus: Angela Winbush]
I love the dough, more than you know
Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey (I love the dough)
I love the dough, more than you know (gonna let it show)
Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey

[Verse 3: JAY-Z]
Miraculous, pockets stay full
Niggas skip the bull ’cause we matadors
Snatch the P89s that we pack in the drawers
And we clap the doors of your Acuras
Snap like, cameras on amateurs
Make you all dance, hold a hammer to yours
Jig and Big rock ice, no cracks or flaws
Everybody 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 adapt you 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

[Verse 4: The Notorious B.I.G.]
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 and horseback
Ridin’, decidin’ cracked crab or lobster
Who say mobsters don’t prosper?
Niggas is actors, niggas deserve Oscars
Me I’m, critically acclaimed, slug pass your brain
Reminisce on dames whose coochie used to stink
When we rocked house pieces and puffy Gucci links
Now we buy homes in unfamiliar places
Tito smile every time he see our faces
Cases catch more than outfielders
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
(We love the dough…)
[Chorus: Angela Winbush]
I love the dough, more than you know (gonna let it show)
Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey
I love the dough, more than you know (gonna let it show)
Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey
I love the dough, more than you know (ah yeah)
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