Rappin’ Paper: The Most Expensive Lyrics Of 2012

For as long as rappers have been making money from music, there has been music about making money. In 2012 artists pushed themselves to newer and more imaginative heights of excess in their rhymes, despite the financial woes the rest of the country might be experiencing.

In some cases they are actually living that large (we see you Jay-Z) in other cases it’s a tribute to just how expansive the baller’s capacity for exaggeration has become. So raise a glass of your favorite carbonated beverage and check out some of the most expensive lyrics of 2012.

12. 50 Cent, “Money”

“I’m in London blowin pounds, Japan blowin yen
It’s the methodical diabolical n*gga with a grin
My stash look like a rainbow, my money is gay

11. Nicki Minaj, “Come On A Cone”

Flying spurs for hers; me I’m f*cking above it
And I just got the ghost, and I’m calling it (Casper)
But this sh*t is so cold, it belong in Alaska
Why the f*ck am I styling? I competes with myself
When you win against Nicki, you depleted your wealth.

10. Lil Wayne,” Bandz A Maker Her Dance”

I don’t tip, I pay bills, b*tches call me buffalo
Her stomach in and her ass out
I’m flyer than the ones they pass out
If money grow on trees, I branched out

9. 2 Chainz “No Lie”

Got ya car note in my cup, and your rent in my swisha
That p*ssy so good I miss you, head game’s so vicious
And all I get is cheese like I’m taking pictures

8. Meek Millz, “Imma Boss”

Couple cars I dont neva drive, bikes I dont neva ride, crib I ain’t neva been
[to], pool I dont neva swim [in], fool u ain’t better than [me], I move like the
President!

7. Rick Ross ”I Am Your Leader”

8 digits I’m clocking, a lot of gold in my bracelet
7 figures on watches, I told my mama I made it
Made a deal for my project, just give me 10 mill I’m gravy
I went back to the projects, and 2 mill in mercedes
I get hit from your lady, have her bill me later
I’m on school with the hustle, just gave Rihanna my pager

6. Drake “No Lie”
2 Chainz and Champagne
You want true, that’s true enough
Forbes list like every year, my office is my tour bus

5. Big Sean, “Guap”
I done paid taxes, paid dues, paid bills my whole life
So I’mma throw money in the air, like I’m tryin’ to pay the sky

4. Kanye West “Clique”/”Mercy”

Yeah I’m talking business, we talking CIA
I’m talking George Tenet, I seen him the other day
He asked me about my Maybach, think he had the same
Except mine tinted and his might have been rented
You know white people get money, don’t spend it
Or maybe they get money, buy a business
I rather buy 80 gold chains and go ign’ant
I know Spike Lee gone kill me but let me finish
Blame it on the pigment, we living no limits
Them gold Master P ceilings was just a figment
Of our imagination, MTV cribs
Now I’m looking at a crib right next to where TC lives
That’s Tom Cruise, whatever she accuse
He wasn’t really drunk he just had a frew brews

“Mercy”

Let the suicide doors up
I threw suicides on the tour bus
I threw suicides on the private jet
You know what that mean, I’m fly to death
I step in Def Jam building like I’m the shit
Tell ‘em give me fifty million or I’m-a quit
Most rappers taste level ain’t at my waist level
Turn up the bass ’til it’s up-in-your-face level

3. French Montana “Pop That”

Hundred out the lot, I be leaning that Ciroc
Hundred large bring a mop
Cars tinted like Barack
Got a Brinks truck in my pocket
Thirty chains on my collar
Two drops, no mileage
Top off like Wallace
And I’m inhaling smoke, bitch know that
Filthy rich before rap
Your new deal, I throw that

2. Juicy J “Bandz A Make Her Dance”

Down in Atlanta, about to hit up Magic
Throw some money in the air, all the bad b*tches gone grab it
Straight off the floor she gone need a couple of bags
Like a broke ATM, I’m spillin’ all this cash
Them n*ggas in the club don’t be spending sh*t
20 stacks in one night, I be on trippy sh*t
My crib’s paid off, but I’m still paying rent
A couple of condos paid, she lovin’ every cent

1. Jay-Z “Three Kings”

Millions on the wall in all my rooms
N*ggas couldn’t f*ck with my daughter’s room
N*ggas couldn’t walk in my daughter’s socks
Banksy b*tches, Basquiat
I ran through that buck fifty Live Nation fronted me
They workin’ on another deal, they talkin’ two hundred fifty
I’m holdin’ out for three
Two seventy five and I just might agree
Ex-D-boy, used to park my Beamer
Now look at me, I can park in my own arena..