Text: D Nice. Call Me D-Nice. A Few Dollars More.

I grew up in the city where everything is rough
Where everywhere I turn, I seen somebody gettin bust
Plus everywhere I look
All I could see is a crackhead or a goddamned crook
Runnin' around with a pistol or a blade
Stickin' up -- in other words, gettin' paid
But I chose not to follow those ways
Cause the only place you headin' is to jail or the grave
But on the other hand
I know a man named Stan
Who in the future had plans
To be successful on his quest to
Take his moms and pops out the ghetto
But that plan was soon to be crushed
When one day he realized he must
Get a better job to pay for his schoolin
While his friends would sit around just coolin
He applied for a job in the system
And everywhere he looked, everybody would diss him
He doesn't have any type of skill
And life is not all games, it's real
he took a long walk down the street
Tryin' to think of a way to make his ends meet, huh
So he could buy the fly things he adored

And all Stan wanted to make was a few dollars more

As he walked home, he thought to himself
Now what am I supposed to do to get wealth
He felt that his life was worthless
Then he ran into his man named Curtis
Now Curtis, he's the type that stops and brags
About all the things he's got
Drivin' a Saab with a black ragtop
Come to find out Curt's workin' for the cops
He told Stan there's a job that's open
Makin' it all sound good, just hopin he would take it
Yup, and like a big dummy
Stan said "Freak it, yo, I need the money"
Curt took Stan to meet his boss
Officer Sims, a sergeant on the force
He gave him a gun and Stan began
His new career as a damn hit man
his boss really liked his work
And gave the boot to his partner Curt
he didn't realize what he was in for

And all Stan wanted to make was a few dollars more

A few dollars more is what he started to make
Now he's drivin' around a Saab, with a house upstate
He got gold and diamond rings
Crazy girls and all those glamorous things
But one day this life-style end
When one afternoon while hangin' with a friend
Sittin' in the park, drinkin' quarts of beer
And somebody said "Throw your hands in the air,
It's a stick-up" and put the gun to his head
And said, "Make another move and you're dead"
Now Stan had to make is choice
He paused and said I recognize that voice
Huh, where have I heard this
Now he remember, it's his man named Curtis
Curtis is mad and felt he'd been robbed
"Cause Stan is drivin' around in his Saab
He looked at Stan and said, "I can't believe him,
Now its' time for me to get even"
Stan made a move real quick
Curt jumped back and said, "Yo, that's it"
Shot him in the back of his head with a nine
Reached in his pocket, grabbed his cash and then dashed
Now here lies the man on the side
The same way he lived was the same way he died
He never knew what he had in store

And all Stan wanted to make was a few dollars more