Jim Jones other songs:


 

4/20 lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Wiz Khalifa & Curren$y)

[Jim Jones:]
4/20 right
This our holiday
Smoke with me
Think about it

It's 4/20 nigga, light it up
It's a celebration, put your lighters up
Roll another one before the flight is up
I smoke in public so police gon' have to write us up
I got some loose ends I gotta tighten up
I need this money so the feds can lose sight of us
It be heavy on my soul, I'm tryna lighten up
I watch bullets hit niggas like when lightning struck
I seen the game, I had to wife her up
All night pumping the white risking my life for what
My young boys on that lean
With that Sprite in cups
And when you got a bomb you know the price go up
I was taking bombs on a China bus
Now every time I hit Miami you know [?]
These rap niggas, they be acting sorta kinda tough
Until I pop around, knock 'em down, line 'em up
[?]

[Chorus:]
Go and roll with the dips
Come and roll with the set
We as real as it gets
You ain't one of us yet
Go and roll with the dips
Come and roll with the set
We as real as it gets
You ain't one of us yet
Go and roll with the dips
Come and roll with the set
We as real as it gets
You ain't one of us yet
Go and roll with the dips
Come and roll with the set
We as real as it gets
You ain't one of us yet

[Wiz Khalifa:]
My day consists of rolling up big buds
Fucking on a bitch before she get in the tub
Fall in the bay before I fall in love
I need a favor, I could call it up
We rock jerseys with our names cause we balling
Made a fortune
Smell like kush on the planes we boarding
Was irrelevant, became important
Rolling up what our main course is
Lamborghini Porsches, anything with horses
You pull up and see the gate, of course that's where I live
Puppies everywhere
Getting my nails manicured, Tracy twisting my hair
Working on the next shit I want the fans to hear
A million plus, I volunteer
Lost my dog, shed a tear
You never know when the end is near
You better off without niggas in your business
Go on my own missions, do my own dishes
Don't send niggas out
I bag my own bitches, and get 'em home with us
Multiple things they wanna do alone with us
Some of 'em drink, some of 'em just wanna get stoned with us

[Chorus:]
Go and roll with the dips
Come and roll with the set
We as real as it gets
You ain't one of us yet
Go and roll with the dips
Come and roll with the set
We as real as it gets
You ain't one of us yet
Go and roll with the dips
Come and roll with the set
We as real as it gets
You ain't one of us yet
Go and roll with the dips
Come and roll with the set
We as real as it gets
You ain't one of us yet

[Curren$y:]
I ain't been in this bitch since they stole Nip
First joint that I lit, first bars I spit
Was dedicated to a Crenshaw legend
That's church like you heard it from the reverend
Rolling up my next one
Stock rag top '57 Bel Air
Wrist wear, presidential bezel dripping elegance
Niggas hella rich, flow heaven sent
Frequent in places you busters have never been
How many of your cars [?]
Lil boy I done bought cars that I haven't seen in person yet
This is the life of a New Orleans jet
Get higher than you ever get
Off the weed you could never buy
With a bitch that you could never try
All in her like dinner, wash it down
A boss in town
Real plugs toss me pounds
Bunch of niggas that you scared of throwing money around
East side all time

60 Rackz (Remix) lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Lil Wayne)

[Intro: Jim Jones]
This is the v mix
How big said it?
When the remmy's in the system
Well I got a 60 clip on me
Like a ak in my pocket..bitch!
Get money!

[Hook]
60 rack's in my pocket
(or should I say young money)
60 rack's in my pocket
(hey killa you know the rule's dipset 4 life)
60 rack's on my jean's
Top back when I lean
I'm all about that muthafuckin paper hoe
This one goes out to all my money makin hoes
60 rack's in my pocket
60 rack's on my jean's
60 rack's my profit
Top back when I lean
I pull up in that muthafuckin phantom ghost
This one goes out to all my niggaz gettin doe
60 rack's in my pocket
60 rack's on my jean's
60 rack's my profit
Top back when I lean
Ok!

[Verse 1: Jim Jones]
60 rack's that's no doe (word)
Matter fact that's hoe doe (bitch)
I made that when I transported(and)
Back and forth takin' nodose (urrrrrhhh)
Rolex, rose gold (get it)
My neck, so cold (froze)
She seened that, caught a chill
V in black, quarter mill (get 'em)
We don't shop at saberone (no)
60 thou' for tha row (and)
Drop top, foreign flow
This is not affordable(k)
Wrist cold, caught the flu
Cartier said quarter to (what)
She suck my dick, swallowed it
My watch still said quarter to (nasty)
See it's that young money
Niggaz know that money grown
Wanna talk to me, better talk to me
From the pool deck of my summer home (can't hear you niggaz)
My summer home
Pool deck wit like 100 on
Who's a threat, got a cool neck
And my jewel's wet like a thunder storm
Ayyyyyy

[Hook]
I'm all about that muthafuckin paper hoe
This one goes out to all my money makin hoes
60 rack's in my pocket (uhh-huh)
60 rack's on my jean's (uhh-huh)
60 rack's my profit (uhh-huh)
Top back when I lean (yez sir)
60 rack's in my pocket (uhh-huh)
60 rack's on my jean's (uhh-huh)
60 rack's in my pocket (uhh0hu)
(yeah)
60 rack's in my pocket (uhh-huh)
60 rack's on my jean's (uhh-huh)
(capo)
60 rack's in my pocket (uhh-huh)
60 rack's on my jean's (uhh-huh)
(i got you nigga)
60 rack's on my jean's
T-top back when I lean

[Verse 2: Lil Wayne]
Swagga thought, I go so hard
They call me tunchi, fuck them all
Can't pack no guns, so I keep a knife
Like that fuckin' chucky doll
Im at yo neck like a shawl
On yo ass like some draw's
I got 3 hoe's wit me
Fuck I look like santa clause
And I got bad bitches all over me
Real niggaz that roll wit me
And we get all flake
Like that one bitch from flowetry
Got a pair of pant's with 4 pocket's
15 k in each of em'
Do the math you mufucker
I'm on my robin leach blood
Skatin' wit my home boyz
Talkin' shit, smokin' weed
I over see everything
Niggaz call me oversea's
Young mula muthafucka
Clique like booya muthafucka
60 rack's in my pocket
Try to jack n get bodied
Young tunchi

[Hook]
60 rack's in my pocket
60 rack's on my jean's
60 rack's in my pocket
60 rack's on my jean's
60 rack's in my pocket
60 rack's on my jean's
60 rack's on my jean's
Top back when I lean
Ayyyy
Whole club in here rockin' (rockin')
Bottle's up in here poppin' (poppin')
Walkin' round wit that rocket (rocket)
60 rack's in my pocket (soooo)
60 rack's my topic (uhh-huh)
60 rack's my profit
The rolex, it rotate
Go tick toc, it ain't stopin'
I got my top back on violence (violence)
Jump shot like stocking (stocking)
Might take a bitch shoppin' (shoppin')
Vamp like we mobbin' (mobbin')
Grand slam n we'll ball em' (ball em')
Me 4 like autum (autum)
Standin on the couches look.....
Capo we're still ballin'
After party at the penthouse
To wee hours of da mornin' (yez sirr)
We're gettin' money stallin' (nah)
You talkin' money, I'm all in (all in')
Known to make it rain (rain)
Infront the club like were own this (own this)
Pull up in that phantom now
60 rack's top baller's
Ayyyy

[Hook]
I'm all about that paper hoe (uhh-huh)
This one goes out to all my money maken' hoes
60 rack's in my pocket (uhh-huh)
60 rack's on my jean's (uhh-huh)
60 rack's is my profit (uhh-huh)
Top back when I lean (yez sir)
I pull up in that muthafuckin' phantom ghost (uhh-huh)
This one goes out to all my niggaz gettin doe (uhh-huh)
60 rack's in my pocket (uhh-huh)
60 rack's on my jean's (uhh-huh)
60 rack's is my profit (uhh-huh)
Top back when I lean (yez sir)

848 lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Juelz Santana, Waka Flocka Flame)

Half a milli all in my bag
If this was Philly they would say I'm in my bag
Quarter milli with the paper tags
And I keep the 9 milli playing laser tag
Condo in Miami that's my favorite pad
Watching Rondo vs Miami he just made a pass
Gotta coupe it when we racing past
Body stupid with a crazy ass!

High heels, red bottoms
And I miss my niggas
For real cause the feds gottem
(Sak-pase)
You doing 30 pray for 65 percent
(I got you nigga)
And the car dirty you know that I'm riding bent!

[Chorus:]
Kingpin! 848
Lights, Camera , Action
(FLEX)
First 48! Fly bitches
Meet me at the bar
And when they catch us we gon' get the biggest charge

Kingpin! 848!
Sex, Money, Murda
First 48!
Live niggas, buy the biggest cars
And when they catch us we gon' get the biggest charge

[Juelz Santana:]
Uh still slangin cocaine boy
Still gangbangin with my gang boys
Swagged up still rockin big chains boy
Who wanna hear that choppa make noise?
I'm smoking dope, straight outta gas mask
It's big B's 9 treys Billy badass
I'm sellin coke what's the code I'll match that
Matter fact I got them for half that
How many mug shots they gon take of me?
Until they understand they ain't gon pin a case on me?

[Chorus]

[Waka Flocka Flame:]
I pulled out hopped out threw the duces
Look back at smiling at these haters blowin kush
I got muscle in my hood call me Flocka Bush
Get your head knocked for a couple bands
Shit hit the fans my youngin let them guns blam
Told em keep shooting don't stop unless you're gun jam
We got automatic big guns like Call of Duty
Keep it G push the turf that's my Call of Duty
Fly young nigga rob you with some Louis
Run up on my bus got burned now he tryna sue me

Free my brother Gucci!
And my brother Bootsie
I swear to God my life is like a fucking movie

[Chorus]

Around My Way lyrics - Jim Jones

[Chorus: Jim Jones]
Around my wayyyyy (Ok this ya boy Jones aka Capo Status)
Around my wayyyyy (I'm about to take you through my way you know the
projects and all that, I'm from Harlem ya'll)
Where the corners filled with sorrow (But I think ummm..)
All the streets are filled with pain
(every hood, every ghetto, every gutter, that's my way, you dig)
Around my wayyyyy (I love it like that, straight like that, Eastside)

[Verse 1: Jim Jones]
Around my way is where this road started (Harlem!)
This little wild motherfucker grew up cold-hearted, rolled the hardest (yeah!)
And I was runnin' all through the projects (Taff)
Till I got caught up on some bogus charges
brought up learnin' loadin' cartridge (lock and load)
This little drama had dreams
I used to run on the scene, gun in between stomach and jeans (jack move jack)
Its only by the good of God, that we make it past 25 on my boulevard (and we still here)
Hmmm and Lord knows my hood is hard
Fuck around you could barred caught up on a gooder charge (that coke!)
I fell in love with the sound of the blicker-blast (bldddddat!)
I roll around in this town where these niggaz mad (Eastside!)
Wit' shifty plans, it gets me man
How they try to get a kilo out of 15 gram
Damn, damn I mean some say we trippin' (why)
Cause we rather stand on corners get our dollars of pitchin (that's right)

[Chorus: Jim Jones]
Around my wayyyyy
(It's do or die, hope my niggaz'll ride
It's do or die, hope my niggaz survive)
Around my wayyyyy
(It's do or die, hope my niggaz'll ride
It's do or die, hope my niggaz survive)
All the corners filled with sorrow (yea)
All the streets are filled with pain
Around my wayyyyy (Harlem)
(Hope my niggaz'll ride, it's do or die hope my niggaz survive)

[Verse 2: Jim Jones]
By my way, these niggaz livin' for the foul play (they greasy)
Brothers gunnin', babies runnin' this where the childs play (watch 'em)
Puffin' grass, cuttin class, jus' tryin' play my part (straight g's)
Bustin' Mags, dust and cash, jus' tryin' to play my mark (that money)
Starvin' nights, startin' fights, jus' like a trouble-maker (what's poppin'!)
Through the nights, blue and whites, hope they don't cuff and take us
(fuck the police!)
Pourin' liquor, for my niggaz, the ones that's dead and gone (R.I.P.!)
Loadin' triggers, holdin' blickers, so we can get it
on (Blllldddddddaaaat!)
Yeah, he we go buggin' out
I mean some are blooded-in
But there ain't no bloodin'-out
I'm on that same bullshit my big buzzings is about
Homocide, drive-by, loaded clips and spit 'em out
Got birds for money, on the curb we hungry
And I promise that my way is like a 3rd world country (fuck it!)
We doomed for the cage (yeah!)
I never let go of my ghetto, still shoot through my way
Around my way

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: Jim Jones]
I got some people, about my casaleo
Te matan, tu madre like "Ay bendito" (dito!)
No hable ingles, but they fuma llerbita
Move with them heaters, in tune with my medas (demelo!)
And to my goons and negritas
Shout to my nigga El Lobo
Who get in rojo and spit and the popo (que pasol!)
Over bricks with them lobos
The kid 'ill go loco and grip up the .44 and spit it like uh-oh (hey pato)
Along the way, I'm scoopin' games in this manly fashion (that's right)
And by the way, I'm movin' caine while I'm blammer-blastin (fuck that)
When will it change, the restraints to the man harrassin'
I gotta say I still love this shit
Around my way

[Chorus]

[Outro: Jim Jones overlaping chorus towards the middle]
Yeah, this one goes to my way
All my G's, all my soldiers
'Round my way keep ya head up
We jus' started, we bubblin'
Hun-15th and 7th
Hun-15th and Lennox
Hun-12th and 5th, the border of 1st Avenue
That's my way
Whole Westside of Harlem
Whole Washington Heights, all my Dominicans
They all around my way
You know, Chi-Town, K-Town
That's up there by my way, smell me
Whole Ohio, Ackren, Colombus, Cinncinati
That's my way
Whole New Jersey, Newark, them LB's
That's my way
Shout outs to Patterson (Shags, Lulu)
That's my way
Whole North-Cackalacka, Greensboro, come down there
That's my way
Can't forget Miami, Day-County
That's all around my way
Shout outs to Atlanta, down in Bank-Head, my niggaz down there in the Trap
That's my way
Big shout out to Houston...

Ballin On Xmas lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. J.R. Writer, Stack Bundles)

[Hook: Jim Jones]
Christmas cheers
Dipset's here
Balling every day

[Verse 1: Stack Bundles]
They say Santa knows who was being naughty or nice
I hope I don't get penalized for what I did with the rice
Name Bundles - you can just imagine the life
I love Christmas - I can just imagine the white
The trees, the candy canes
The holidays remind me of the game
The reindeers remind me of the Range (supercharged!)
Icicles remind me of the ring
She seen the videos, she like the fadeaway dance
I want to kiss her like I got a mistletoe in my pants
She looking at my neck like, "Damn!
You must have blew your whole advance down at the Colosseum"
Ma, the kitty is major
Without b-day, love, let me upgrade ya
You know giving's in a rapping nature
So all I want for Christmas is some rapping paper

[Refrain: Stack Bundles]
Deck the halls, it's a Dipset Christmas
We all ball, it's a Dipset Christmas
Fa la la la la, a Dipset Christmas
We fly high, it's a Dipset Christmas
Deck the halls, it's a Dipset Christmas
We all ball, it's a Dipset Christmas

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Jim Jones]
In all my years standing on one hundred twelfth
Never seen Santa, no elves
Seen a couple mans go to jail
Trying to get Christmas money off gram sales
And that ain't work out (it's a shame)
They say Santa know you good or you bad
Gotta make an exception - we in the hood, living fast
The cash that we get, I admit it's kind of fast
But we gotta pay the rent, put some clothes on our ass
I'm thinking foreign so Christmas morning
Cars with [?] on them make the broads get up on 'I'm
Niggas upstate, well, this one is for 'em
Until you come home, I'm a keep on balling
So you can tell Kris Kringle
When he in the party he can bump my single

[Hook]

[Verse 3: J.R. Writer]
No introduction, I'm the man on the mic
You all know the boy flyer than Santa at night
Me and Santa alike - know why? I'm getting cake here
I grab a ho ho ho, and make it rain, dear
So fix your face, queer - course I'm raw
On or off of tour, I'm a boss for sure
Talking war? Your doggie dog floss a four
That'll give you lead poisoning cause it's off the wall
I'm a player, fuck the constant haters
Around here I call the shots like a commentator
These ain't your common gators stepping on a punk
I had to go get these fresh up out the swamp
Weaponry to launch, grab it out the pocket
You think, "Damn, how this nigga carrying a rocket?"
Flashy for a profit
Cause it's kind of funny that my lawyer kind of clumsy
How he catch a case and drop it

[Refrain]

[Hook]

Bando lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Axel Leon)

[Axel Leon & Jim Jones:]
Raindrops fallin' in the drop
Whoa
No ID blowin' on the couch
Whoa
[Scoff] [scoff] I'm lettin' yo man know
If he front he's never leavin' the bando
Raindrops fallin' in my Dom (whoa)
Took ya bitch home early in the morn (whoa)
[Automatic gunshots] start lettin' yo man know
If he front, he's never leavin' the bando

[Jim Jones:]
Start lettin' these chumps know
Bout to cop the new Prezzie like Trump hoe
Game, we got floor seats, vice in the front row
Niggas want war then we right at your front door (knock knock)
Suicidin' the door up while the sun glow
Bitch hangin' off the roof of the drop, tell her jump hoe
I'm not Jamaican but you dun kno I been duckin the boys since the 21 Jump show
Shit, they tried to trap me off while I was trappin' soft
Huh, I let the roof fall while I was backin' off
Shit, you gotta watch the Feds they tryina snatch a boss
A nigga too slick I get a bitch to drop the package off
So the boys can't find a connection
I be in places where ya phone can't find a connection (Rome)
So fly that they think I get dressed in the air
I'm at the dealer tryina buy what's next for next year, like

[Axel Leon & Jim Jones:]
Raindrops fallin' in the drop
Whoa
No ID blowin' on the couch
Whoa
[Scoff] [scoff] I'm lettin' yo man know
If he front he's never leavin' the bando
Raindrops fallin' in my Dom (whoa)
Took ya bitch home early in the morn (whoa)
[Automatic gunshots] start lettin' yo man know
If he front, he's never leavin' the bando

[Axel Leon:]
Rag missin' on the rooftop
Reverse bandana bitch I feel like 2Pac
I'm with Jimmy like Juelz Santana freaky killa we know niggas who call niggas to get flu shots
Pink slip we put up Lmabos
Red flagin' with guns, shoot 'em up Rambo
[Scoff] [scoff] start lettin' ya man know
If he front he's never leavin' the bando
Got the plug for the drugs, that [?]
Got me shinin', I ain't a blood, but I'm icy [?]
She got that, love is love, that wifey vibe
Violate, you be runnin' out yo Nikes 5
I'm that Puerto Rican puto
Not Punisher but you know
To tell that truth, I got the juice now, who don't
Bad stripper in the coupe
Let it rain in the two door
Fucked in all positions like Judo
You know

[Axel Leon & Jim Jones:]
Raindrops fallin' in the drop
Whoa
No ID blowin' on the couch
Whoa
[Scoff] [scoff] I'm lettin' yo man know
If he front he's never leavin' the bando
Raindrops fallin' in my Dom (whoa)
Took ya bitch home early in the morn (whoa)
[Automatic gunshots] start lettin' yo man know
If he front, he's never leavin' the bando

Better Me lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Robbie Nova)

[Music Starts]
[Jim Speaking:]
"Love is a funny thing, you gotta watch what chu ask for, it could get cha"

[(Intro) Chorus:]
I'm your moon, you're my star,
You're my sun, I'm you're sky,
You shine right through those cloudy days,
You drive all my pain away;

[Verse 1:]
If you the sun, then I'm the rain,
People say opposites attract, (true)
But really girl we like one in the same,
How opposite is that? (you crazy)
And, there's no comparison,
Or, No one to compare you to, (who)
Cuz, no one gets near to you, (never)
At night time I say a prayer for you,
When I'm Wit my son, and my moms, and my sisters too,
But I'm, love sick like its just the flu,
So, just for that I'm forever in-debted,
Get Chanel bags girl, get whatever, don't sweat it, (cop dat)
My better half make a better me, (what)
What's done in the past is dead to me,
I'm only looking at what's ahead of me,
And if you gotta go put the lead to me,
(Clear) If you could see my thoughts, (uh)
Some say, "Louise and George",
Others say, "Claire and Cliff",
But I say Bonnie and Clyde, (Clyde)
Everybody know that my mami'll ride,
Till the wheels fall off and the sun collide,
The ups and the downs,
The richer or poorer,
What the fuck is rich
Without a Mrs. to adore?

[(Full) Chorus:]
I'm your moon, you're my star,
You're my sun, I'm you're sky,
You shine right through those cloudy days,
You drive all my pain away;
I can smile, when you frown,
Pick you up, when you're down,
You're the reason, can't you see?
The reason I'm a, Better Me;

[Bridge:]
Wit a little bit of love
And a little bit of trust
And a little bit of faith
We'll be alright,
Just as long as you love me girl,
And stay by my side,
You're the air that I breathe,
Girl you make me so complete,
You're my total opposite,
Bringin' out the best in me;

[(Full) Chorus w/adlibs:]
I'm your moon, you're my star,
You're my sun, I'm you're sky,
You shine right through those cloudy days,
You drive all my pain away;
I can smile, when you frown,
Pick you up, when you're down,
You're the reason, can't you see?
The reason I'm a, Better Me;

[Ad-lib fades out]

Blow Your Smoke lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Rell)

This one is dedicated from Harlem to all ya'll
This goes out from the streets of Harlem to everywhere
Blow ya smoke
And if you ride high, puts your lighters up in the air
Blow ya smoke

I'm blowin smoke with my top back
I got my gun on me top that
She started pressin buttons I told her stop that
Can't front I was watching where them cops at
The sun is out, my wrist rocked out
I miss all my niggas locked out
So I roll a blunt for the good times
We was just in the slums like "Good Times"
Keep a bad bitch like Malona
Me and Dev was doing henny and coronas
Getting money hustle hard they was on us
And we still poor liqour for the goners
We blow smoke like we blow money
It's no joke but it's so funny
She ate me up and said "it's so yummy"
The niggas sho hate but the hoes love me

Spend a couple G's on my bitches purse
Lookin at the screen as I hit reverse
Lightin up backin out of Neman's
My jewlery loud like it's screaming
And when the last time you seen him?
Shootin past, something fast, european
Capital B on the gear shifta
No breeze from the ceilin let the air hit ya
I'm god blessed like a Prayor scripture
Lord knows tryna make it up there with ya
Until then I light one up
Stay strapped in case a nigga wanna run up
I'm still watched by rap police
They still search me in the club like I'm strapped with heat
Might catch me pumpin out in backstreets
I might be diggin out yo broad in the backseat... fucker

I just wanna smoke trees in a safe place
But when I do that I get a court case
I get a P.O. who's an asshole
I get bum smokers, always low on doe
I get cussed out by my mom and them
Changin all the locks, won't let me in
I get cotton mouth, I get a bad rep,
I get a book tellin me to take twelve steps
Smokin on some refa, gettin on my Wiz khalifa
Had my teachers concerned real talk
But to preach what I was taught
Master your high and learn to skywalk
Life too short ain't got no reset
So do what you want, not what they expect
And in the meantime Clockin hella checks
While you fly real high on them paper jets fool
Real dreams come true

Certified Gangsta's Remix lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Xkwisyt & Bezel)

[Verse: Jim Jones]
You know I keep my eyes wide
East side high risers
West side low riders
vest with the four-fire
Yes I fo sho fire
D-I-P low rider
See police, slow the ride
See scwalay , nigga
'Cause they be thinking that the ride stolen
Keep your head up and your eyes open
Load the lead up while the ride rollin
Creep up on a motha like what you say fucka
Well fuck him and if he live smoke him
We don't appeal to the law
You know we ride this motherfucker till them wheels fall off
And the first bastard get fly
You know blad, blad, blad, was my reply
89 wolf pack and we wylin
P-89 pull gats 'cause we violent, shit, yea
We put coke on the strip
Don't quote me boy 'cause I ain't said shit

[Chorus: Bezel]
Since I made a gang of bucks
Nah I ain't been hanging much
Still slide through fly coupes, and the chains is plush
Keep the banger tucked 'case I had to bang a fuck
'Cause we Certified Gangstas
All day we hanging smut, dog with a gang of ducks
Hundred grand on the hand, Game got the range of trucks
Kill wit the deal, still got cane to cut
'Cause we Certified Gangstas

[Verse: Xkwisyt]
X! Make me throw money, JR Write it off, and have it cheque-d,
So when X step out, make like false check marks, and act correct.
I spend time with gangsta's, hustlers, yet never a day on birds,
Well I do set up ally-oop remixes on dictionaries; call it a play on words.
I'm a crack snitches and bitches, you know! Just smack a little,
Cause I'm ecstatic, with more colored bitches than a pack of skittles.
And you know I got plenty of --'s just like me, kinda like 50 clones,
The new DipSet, cause I ball like Jimmy Jones (Ballin!)
Cause I cock back and spray, it hurts,
Call it a 'Diary of a Summer', while I was 'On My Way To Church'.
The way that I cock and spray, hit you from a block away,
Leave thinkin' 'Shit I gotta get X back, but not today'
Could give less a fuck if you like me bitch,
Even though I still 'Swoosh' by you more than Nike kicks.
Think I'm bluffin'? Shit you aint ever heard of my shanker's?,
I even got a certificate, telling me I'm a certified gangster, yeah!

[Chorus]

[Verse: Jim Jones]
You know I ride through Lennox
All eyes on my pendant
But I'm moving like oh dog was ridding a menace
With that automatic weapon, blowing live through my tennant
While I'm breezin' through the jects, blowing live on the tennants
I'm pouring liquor for the dead and gone
And we retaly same night, load the blinkers with the leaders on
We come to get you till the dead and morn
(Knock, Knock wake up mothafucker, you know who it is)
Killa and Jones coppin one dawn
Big birds, the rocks and our charms
He got the bird, the glocks in my palm
I got the word from King Joffrey the bomb
My nigga zeekey surely a hard rock
How he survived them 40-sum-odd shots
As we ride he screamed out eastside
All the time as I reply

[Chorus]

Certified Gangstas (Original) lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. G.A.M.E., Cam'ron & Bezel)

[Intro: G.A.M.E. (Jim Jones)]
(R.I.P Eazy-E)That Westside(Capo), that city where them tec's fly(Dip-set!)
We ride in that Westside(Eastside), that no seeds in our stress side(Lets ride)

[Verse 1: G.A.M.E.]
Jim Jones swirvin, I got that purple I'm blowed
Tight grip on the Escalade pole
Yeah, Harlem's jus' like Compton, that's jus' how I roll
Red bandana wrapped around the chrome .44
Gun smokin' like Suge cigar
Show me how you stunt you thrown outta movin' car
If that thing come out, its murder she wrote
If Doc come out, its 30 Impalas on the boat
Nigga, we do this everyday
Llamas under the thermul, waitin' by ya stairs like Mary J
Beat niggaz ride dirty like Jazze Pha, Cassius Clay
Knock a nigga out on the ave today
Bring the mack ya way me and Santana
Blowin' in the crowd like Donnie Hathaway
Westside blood-gang, niggaz know what I'm about
And they know I'm ruff ridin' so they knockself out

[Chorus: Bezel]
Now I ride with my vest, .45 and my tech
Big 4 in the '64, like I'm in the West
Not petrified to put 5 in ya chest
Cause, we Certified Gangstas
Stash the mill' in the house
And I kill in the drowt
That's the chill, when I pump, get it crunk in the South
Icegrill, like a nice meal in my mouth
Cause, we Certified Gangstas

[Verse 2: Jim Jones]
You know I keep my eyes wide
Eastside high-risers
Westside low-riders
Vest with the four-fiver
Yes I fo' sho fire
D-I-P low-rider
See police, slow the ride up
You see squally nigga
Cause we switchin four lanes(speedin'!)
To see my niggaz(gangsta!) that bang up
In the middle of the 'jects(Foster!), while the pitchin' raw
caine(gettin it!)
G'd up posted tough on the turf(uh huh)
Long johns and some jeans, fuck a button up shirt(we keep it gully!)
Compton, see the blockers they bangin'(G's up!)
My ghetto passes good, be on blocks while they slangin'(in the dope
house!)
Houston, the purple potion I sip(Texas)
While I'm screwin' up my music in a roaster with
Flip(Clover Geeees!)
NY, you know the City is ours(Capo!)
You know I'm Peter Gotti, we the niggaz with power(DIP-SET!)
As we ride we screamed out "EASTSIDE"(G's up!)
All the time as I replied(come on!)

[Chorus: Bezel]
Now I ride with my vest, .45 and my tech
Big 4 in the '64, like I'm in the West
Not petrified to put 5 in ya chest
Cause, we Certified Gangstas
Stash the mill' in the house
And I kil in the drowt
That's the chill, when I pump, get it crunk in the South
Icegrill, like a nice meal in my mouth
Cause, we Certified Gangstas

[Verse 3: Cam'ron]
We put the lazers on glocks(glock)
Razor or ox(ox)
As I lay in the drop(drop)
Pump the base on the poc(kets)
Move the H on our block, in front of H&R block
See the face on our watch, put ya face on our cock(head)
I keep the Luger hugged
Show you how to use a snub
Whoopty-whoo, fuck around be you I plug(you)
I don't do the drugs(nah), baby I move the drugs(yes)
Right on the computer love, it sound like computer love(computer love)
Duck the cop-capers(capers) and the top haters(haters)
Foch flavors, Harlem World we got gators(what's that!?)
Not dead, I said they alive(live)
Lions(lions), tigers(what), bears, oh my(oh my)
Its a straight zoo
A to Z, May to April
Bring the apes through
Fuck around you be ape food, baked food(food)
9 bitches, 8 dudes
Diamond visions, great cubes
Get it straight fool

[Chorus: Bezel]
Now I ride with my vest, .45 and my tech
Big 4 in the .64, like I'm in the West
Not petrified to put 5 in ya chest
Cause, we Certified Gangstas
Stash the mill' in the house
And I kill in the drowt
That's the chill, when I pump, get it crunk in South
Icegrill, like a nice meal in my mouth
Cause, we Certified Gangstas

[Outro: Jim Jones]
We ride in that Eastside
We roll up while we ride
We ride in that Eastside
Please roll up that weed high..

Certified Gangstas (YouTube Remix) lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Jim Jones, The Game, Cam'ron, Lil Eazy)

[Eazy-E:]
Woke up quick at about noon
Just thought that I had to be in Compton soon
I gotta get drunk before the day begin
Before my mother starts bitchin bout my friends
About to go and damn near went blind
Young niggaz at the pad throwin up gang signs
Ran in the house and grabbed my clip
With the Mac-10 on the side of my hip
Bailed outside and pointed my weapon
Just as I thought, the fools kept steppin
Jumped in the fo' hit the juice on my ride
I got front back and side to side
Then I let the Alpine play
Bumpin new shit by NWA
It was "Gangsta Gangsta" at the top of the list
Then I played my own shit, it went somethin like this:
Cruisin down the street in my six-fo'
Jockin the bitches, slappin the hoes
Went to the park to get the scoop
Knuckleheads out there cold shootin some hoops
A car pulls up, who can it be?
A fresh El Camino rolled, Kilo G
He rolls down his window and he started to say
It's all about makin that GTA
Cuz the boyz n tha hood are always hard
You come talkin that trash we'll pull your card
Knowin nothin in life but to be legit
Don't quote me boy, cuz I ain't sayin shit

[Verse 1: The Game.]
Jim Jones swirvin, I got that purple I'm blowed
Tight grip on the Escalade pole
Yeah, Harlem's jus' like Compton, that's jus' how I roll
Red bandana wrapped around the chrome .44
Gun smokin' like Suge cigar
Show me how you stunt you thrown outta movin' car
If that thing come out, its murder she wrote
If Doc come out, its 30 Impalas on the boat
Nigga, we do this everyday
Llamas under the thermul, waitin' by ya stairs like Mary J
Beat niggaz ride dirty like Jazze Pha, Cassius Clay
Knock a nigga out on the ave today
Bring the mack ya way me and Santana
Blowin' in the crowd like Donnie Hathaway
Westside blood-gang, niggaz know what I'm about
And they know I'm ruff ridin' so they knockself out

[Chorus: Bezel]
Now I ride with my vest, .45 and my tech
Big 4 in the '64, like I'm in the West
Not petrified to put 5 in ya chest
Cause, we Certified Gangstas
Stash the mill' in the house
And I kill in the drowt
That's the chill, when I pump, get it crunk in the South
Icegrill, like a nice meal in my mouth
Cause, we Certified Gangstas

[Verse 2: Jim Jones]
You know I keep my eyes wide
Eastside high-risers
Westside low-riders
Vest with the four-fiver
Yes I fo' sho fire
D-I-P low-rider
See police, slow the ride up
You see squally nigga
Cause we switchin four lanes(speedin'!)
To see my niggaz(gangsta!) that bang up
In the middle of the 'jects(Foster!), while the pitchin' raw
caine(gettin it!)
G'd up posted tough on the turf(uh huh)
Long johns and some jeans, fuck a button up shirt(we keep it gully!)
Compton, see the blockers they bangin'(G's up!)
My ghetto passes good, be on blocks while they slangin'(in the dope
house!)
Houston, the purple potion I sip(Texas)
While I'm screwin' up my music in a roaster with
Flip(Clover Geeees!)
NY, you know the City is ours(Capo!)
You know I'm Peter Gotti, we the niggaz with power(DIP-SET!)
As we ride we screamed out "EASTSIDE"(G's up!)
All the time as I replied(come on!)

[Chorus: Bezel]
Now I ride with my vest, .45 and my tech
Big 4 in the '64, like I'm in the West
Not petrified to put 5 in ya chest
Cause, we Certified Gangstas
Stash the mill' in the house
And I kil in the drowt
That's the chill, when I pump, get it crunk in the South
Icegrill, like a nice meal in my mouth
Cause, we Certified Gangstas

[Verse 3: Cam'ron]
We put the lazers on glocks(glock)
Razor or ox(ox)
As I lay in the drop(drop)
Pump the base on the poc(kets)
Move the H on our block, in front of H&R block
See the face on our watch, put ya face on our cock(head)
I keep the Luger hugged
Show you how to use a snub
Whoopty-whoo, fuck around be you I plug(you)
I don't do the drugs(nah), baby I move the drugs(yes)
Right on the computer love, it sound like computer love(computer love)
Duck the cop-capers(capers) and the top haters(haters)
Foch flavors, Harlem World we got gators(what's that!?)
Not dead, I said they alive(live)
Lions(lions), tigers(what), bears, oh my(oh my)
Its a straight zoo
A to Z, May to April
Bring the apes through
Fuck around you be ape food, baked food(food)
9 bitches, 8 dudes
Diamond visions, great cubes
Get it straight fool

[Chorus: Bezel]
Now I ride with my vest, .45 and my tech
Big 4 in the .64, like I'm in the West
Not petrified to put 5 in ya chest
Cause, we Certified Gangstas
Stash the mill' in the house
And I kill in the drowt
That's the chill, when I pump, get it crunk in South
Icegrill, like a nice meal in my mouth
Cause, we Certified Gangstas

[Outro: Jim Jones]
We ride in that Eastside
We roll up while we ride
We ride in that Eastside
Please roll up that weed high...

COKE ZERO Freestyle lyrics - Fabolous x Jim Jones

[Jim Jones:]
Yesterday's price is not today's price
Not at all, uh
Like, like-like, crack-crack, like, like
Like, li-li-crack, crack, crack
How you- How you gon' charge me
What I was chargin' yesterday, nigga
Thumbin' that shit all night

Yesterday's price is not today's yay's price (Negative)
It's forty-seven K just to get a K of white
Told 'em shorty don't play, I had this .40 sprayin' light
Got the switch on that shit, they had thought I sprayed the pipe
Pumpin' the 'caine like some sort of eighties night (Call that)
Sneakin' that white girl in my room just so she can stay the night
[?] crooks, just like comic books, I got some coke heroes
Mix the 'caine with the Aspartame, call that Coke Zero (Nasty)
All hail the drug runners, I'm missin' all my drug summers
Blow it up and break it down on her, block doing pluck numbers
I was in VA like Pusha T but I was pushin' C (Aw)
I know some young thugs, I got some gunners that be pushin' C (What's up, slime?)
Have you rappers, you all pussy, like [?] (I mean that)
Your bitch know the rules, the crack costs money but that pussy is free (Ooh)
Jesus warpin' the coke just like a pair of Yeezys kick (Ye, what up?)
Give me five hundred grams, I guarantee, nigga
Give me five hundred grams, I guarantee that we gon' see a brick
I get you whacked to keep a hundred, that's a easy hit (Ah)
Bitch, I could start a car with these keys
I take a couple of those and bought a new car with the Bs (Skrrt, skrrt)
Pardon my sleeve, I ain't mean to get no water on you (Trippin')
You ain't never cook it up, break a [?] and get that water on you
Bitch, I'm tryna tell you, I'm from the gutter side
I felt Doughboy's pain when he found out his brother died (I felt that)
[Interlude - Jim Jones & Fabolous:]
Fuck it, I really felt that, though (Ayo)
You really in the hood like that, so (Ayo)
You know? We back at it, though (Ayo)
Just like cooked crack [?]

[Fabolous:]
Ayo, yesterday's price is not today's price
And yesterday's life is not today's life
You know yesterday's wife, but that's not today's wife
'Cause now they aftermath like Dr. Dre's
Look, a hustler gone broke, that's a joke, right? (Joke, right?)
Good on all that, yeah, that's GOAT life (GOAT life)
Stop and go low, it go on-off, broke light
Got the red, got the green, call that shit Coke Sprite
Wanna lean on me like I'm Joe Clark, don't ya?
Had them fiends on the roof like you smoke crack, don't ya?
She say when you freestyle, you get your flow back, don't ya?
See, these Louis jerseys look like the throwbacks, don't ya?
This is '03 Fab mixed with OG Fab
This is gold teeth Fab with the goatee Fab
I'm in love with the CroCo like I'm O.T. Fab
Haters keep my nuts in they mouth, no tea bag
Used to break that thing down in the old Z bags
Now I'm ridin' through my city with some OT tags
I've been doin' too much, I'm in my OD bag
My shorty body S type like that OG jag, yeah
('Member that?) That's way before your time (Yeah)
That was when I used to spell my name before my rhyme (Efe)
Blicky close so it won't be my time before my time (Brr)
So play with the killer, you'll get shot before the lines, nigga

Crash lyrics - Jim Jones

After they finished searching the van for drugs... the officer told me 'If I don't believe in God — now is the time to start.

I was halfway to sleep, faded off the sour
Not knowing that coulda been my last hour
I see it clear, we was on 85
Road looking clear doing 'bout 85
A smooth sail turned to a crazy ride
I wish I could say nigga watch the way you drive
Well, he was just tryna swerve a deer
I didn't get to say it but the lord heard my prayers
Head on collision with the guard rail
And I'm a firm believer that God's real
I felt my van crash against the hard steel
At that point I couldn't tell you how my heart feel
I seen it happen, we was spinning like a bottle top
And I was praying Lord make the bottle stop
I swear to God I seen the sillouette
And when we crashed, Nini still woke up a little wet
The tyres broke off, ripping up the concrete
Hit the wall, kept us outta harms reach
And not an airbag popped out
And without near stressed I hopped out
I got a couple bangs and a couple bruises
Jet lag, a broken rib and two contusions
All that, we tryna make our destination
But it oculda been our final destination

I used to speed when I whipped the V's
Until a nigga sin almost crippled me
Damn it made a nigga see his life flash
I see my son, I see my mum, I see Christ flash
I almost died on Martin Luther Day
And for the cause he was a martyr just a few would say
Now I'm thinking hard what my crew would say
Maybe wonder what my boo would say
I wonder what she would say

They say what don't kill you, makes you stronger
And my momma always told me the angels was with me
I guess that's all them prayers through all those years
Well since I'm still here nigga, guess what?

Dancin On Me lyrics - DJ Webstar (with Jim Jones, feat. Juelz Santana)

[Chorus: DJ Webstar]
Pull up to the club she dancing on me
I don't really know what she doing to me
But I really know how she really want me
I'm like girl you dancing on me

Dancing on me, she dancing on me [x3]
I don't know about you but she dancing on me
Go girl [x8]

[DJ Webstar:]
Cop that bottle pop that bottle shake that bottle
Then pour it on a model
You follow
Now do your little dance like a genie in a bottle
Shawty ain't letting me leave,
When I move she move she ain't letting me breath
Shawty ain't letting me leave,
When I move she move she ain't letting me breath

[Chorus: DJ Webstar]
Pull up to the club she dancing on me
I don't really know what she doing to me
But I really know how she really want me
I'm like girl you dancing on me

Dancing on me, she dancing on me [x3]
I don't know about you but she dancing on me
Go girl [x8]

[Jim Jones:]
If bein fine was a crime you'd be serving it dime
Her brains were the same she said I'm all on her mind
Watching her every move and stalking her body parts
The way I might attack her she might need a body guard
The jewels had her like gosh
Champagne to us is nothing but mouth wash
You get it from your momma
Shake what she gave ya
Drop it like it's hot, I could'nt take this behavior

[Chorus: DJ Webstar]
Pull up to the club and the lambo was looking sweet
Don't know about you but her hands was on me
Then she start to feel that the hammer was on me
But she wanted to lick the rapper like candy was on me

Dancing on me, she dancing on me [x3]
I don't know about you but she dancing on me
Go girl [x8]

[Juelz Santana:]
Grind on me
Wind on me
Now turn around and put your behind on me
Now grind on me
Now grind on me
Now lemme take you home you could ride on me
See ladies love me
Girls they adore me
The Haters hate me but they can't avoid me
She wanna get kinky
She's all on me
I wanna get freaky, me so horny ay
So I whispered in her ear like what is we gonna do
She looked at her friend and I'm like she could come too
All three of us should get one room and do things we like to do ay

[Chorus & Outro: DJ Webstar]
Dancing on me, she dancing on me [x3]
I don't know about you but she dancing on me
Go girl [x8]

Shake your little diggy dum dum dum
Shake your little diggy dum dum dum
De dum dum diggy dum dum dum
De dum dum
Show me what ya momma gave ya
Show me what ya momma gave ya
Hapala de deg dum dum duaahla

Pull up to the club she dancing on me
I don't really know what she doing to me
But I really know how she really want me
I'm like girl your
Dancing on me She dancing on me [x3]
I don't know about you but she dancing on me...

Electric Feel lyrics - Jim Jones

All I seen was sum sexy heels,
Small ass waist legs dat killed body gave me dat electric feel,
Told her she can shock me like electric eels,
Electrocution like a toaster in da tub,
Had her so wet she left the holster like a tub,
She was so hot try to play extra cool,
But she whisperd in my ear she was wetter den a pool,
Now she liked to swim,
If I wanna skinny dip I shud jump right in,
So so, then I jumped right in,
Call me micheal phelps with lightnin under my belt

All along the western front
People line up to receive
She got the power in her hand
To shock you like you won't believe
Saw her in the amazon
With the voltage running through her skin
Standing there with nothing on
She gonna teach me how to swim

I said ooh girl
Shock me like an electric eel
Baby girl
Turn me on with your electric feel
I said ooh girl
Shock me like an electric eel
Baby girl
Turn me on with your electric feel

All along the eastern shore
Put your circuits in the sea
This is what the world is for
Making electricity
You can feel it in your mind
Oh you can do it all the time
Plug it in, change the world
You are my electric girl

I said ooh girl
Shock me like an electric eel
Baby girl
Turn me on with your electric feel
I said ooh girl
Shock me like an electric eel
Baby girl
Turn me on with your electric feel

Do what you feel now
Electric feel now
Do what you feel now
Electric feel now
Do what you feel now
Electric feel now
Do what you feel now
Electric feel now
Do what you feel now
Electric feel now

Finesse lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Rich Homie Quan, A$AP Ferg, Desiigner)

[Pre-Chorus - A$AP Ferg:]
Feeling good, man I'm feeling good
Finesse and then I juug
Feeling good, man I'm feeling good
Finesse and then I juug
In my hood, woke up in my hood
Nigga I wish you would
Feeling good, man I'm feeling good
Finesse and then I juug

[Chorus - A$AP Ferg:]
Finesse, finesse
Finesse, finesse
Finesse, finesse
Finesse, finesse
Finesse and then I juug

[Verse 1 - Jim Jones:]
We got the bricks and the yay
We got that shit you don't weigh
We get them package of loud
I got that shit from the Bay
I know some Crips in L.A
I know some Bloods out in Harlem
I got my bitch on the way
She got a bitch on the way
I got some niggas, they put the clips in the K
I got some chicks in the A
You took a trip to Miami
You get a drop, you get that shit for a day
I get that shit cause I want it
I'm in that shit getting blunted
I'm in that shit doing me
Let your new bitch get up on it
I do not care about warrants
I told my lawyer to steam it, any charges that they throw
I told my lawyer to clean it

[Verse 2 - Rich Homie Quan & A$AP Ferg:]
I want the bricks and the commas
I want some more and some more
I got them bricks and the commas
I want galore and galore
I am not talking bout lyra
I fell in love with the mirror
Damages, look at my hair
I fucked your bitch in the leer
Twitter fingers in her rear
Make that pussy disappear, yeah, yeah
I dropped a 4 in a 20 and Fanta
NYC all the way down to Atlanta
I rock your bitch like a Gucci bandana
I'm feeling myself just like Tony Montana
I snort the caine, nah, Tony Montana
I got the mothafucking gun
I got the hammer, I'll put my dick in your grandma
Don't ask me why I call you son
I cannot fuck her, I'm focused on money
Focused on 20s and 50s and hundreds
Finessing the plug, we take off and we're running
I can have a rich homie, you know that we stunting
I want that green so they calling me Kermit
Man that boo got me hot, man I feel like I'm burning
I beat that lil pussy like Ike, call me Turner
So get that G string like I just pulled a permit
Finesse

[Chorus]

[Verse 3 - Desiigner, A$AP Ferg & Jim Jones:]
Real nigga, fuck for real on the reg, nigga
Drive em in, rolling 6s, Durant, nigga
I fell in love with them killers, them niggas, they dead niggas
Feel it, come back on that alley, fuck with Durant, nigga
Me and A$AP, Jimmy, Jimmy, that's a head, nigga
Feeling cleared up, kill a nigga for some bread, nigga
Niggas talking, man I'm finna hit em with the lead, nigga
Told him, kill him cause we heard him talking to the Feds, nigga
Whole block full of Bloods, fucking with them red niggas
Get caught when you come up short with the bread niggas
We some head hitters
I'm that coke dealer
Getting more figures
You that broke nigga
Must have called a nigga G-Unit cause we guerrillas
Bitches wanna give me neck cause we getting more skrilla
And more skrilla, and more skrilla
Fucking gold diggers, getting more bigger
Yeah we feeling good

[Pre-Chorus]

[Chorus]

Flex Freestyle #043 lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Axel Leon)

[Jim Jones:]
They try to cut me out and wish death on me
Couple bounds is bounds, niggas try to drop checks on me
That didn't clear, thought I wouldn't emerge
If this was a movie, half of you niggas were in the purge
Broad day, I done see niggas get put on the curb
I know old plugs that didn't sold good in the 'burbs
Come down you see I get love like Lord though
Rucker Park nights, must have robbed Ford autos
I loved the 911 until they came with the four door
I used to sell coke when the King was that Bordeaux
But just like Vegas you got to bet on yourself
I love checkers but I like chess better myself
Four moves ahead, sometimes I'm ahead of myself
I'm not God by then just tryin' to better myself
Cuz I done seen niggas turn paper planes into 'jects
Cuz this is more deeper than having a chain on my neck
It was more like having a meeting about cocaine with the connect
And they had two thousand birds but they just came with a check
Cuz there was a time when I sold coke on the side
And I watched all the friends that was closest to me die
So I felt like the game had completely broken my pride
So I brought bottles of champagne just to soak in the ride
And if you speak to me now I feel like I'm emotionally tied
And when they talk about The Dips they say that's a broken up pie
So what good is that if you can't sell it whole?
I got secrets in my body that I can't tell a soul
I still post up in my hood the left hand work the gold
My right hand on the dice and five grand on the Rolls
I ain't speak to the weatherman but there's a chance it could snow
I still run around in my pants since the kick

[Axel Leon:]
Spanish hoes love me, I'm a noodle now
I got the juice, bitches call me Young Jugo Now
Growing up I got stepped on, I ain't lose potency
Got cut twice, but I'm still puro, wow
They say you got better, duele ta duro now
I've been nice, I could call twelve, then two more rounds (Remix!)
They see me movin', they call me Young U-Haul now
Always hoppin' out the coupe, I'm Young Two-Door now
We stayin' on avenues, started trapping with nickels
To remain capital like the back of the nickel
Hamburgers, no pickles, nigga cuttin' the loot
Jail niggas bottle pickles and they piss in the juice
Trap freeze in the cold watching these in the snow
That's that New York shit like chopped cheese on a roll
Put a hole through you skinny fucks
And display your intestines like a Jimmy Truck
Armor armed onto his legs and fuckin skinned knees up
(Tell 'em!)
If Mickey was raised how I was he fuckin' Minnie up anytime she was goofy
Too deep, me and my guns like fuckin' two piece
You'll get a piece, too, leave your brain and your cool girl
(Dog noises) Who let the dogs out?
Apartment full of guns I'm bringing the loft out
Black granite floors white walker done bring the floors out
You got your foot in the door I blew the doors down
Then I threw the doors out (Right!)
My bitch Louie she threw all the Michael Kors out
She gettin' shit, all this shit she couldn't afford now
Payment down, no down payments, she put it all down
They know how Wall Street city hall now
She what you once reserved, I'm reserving the call now
I'm serious, silly, a phone call now
Alien flow, I'm 'bout to phone home now
These niggas take from the land, think they don't own now
These niggas duel like Noreaga Capone now
Duo, we harmonize when alone now
Dogs from the ghetto in harmony, bone bone now (Woof!)
Look, uh, you want it done right? You got to do it, I'm next
You want the city to hear it, you got to do it for Flex
I swear I know I got to do it myself, I don't got to
All I've got to do it for help
I get it, it's always about who talk, never about who did it
It got to be automatic, never about who wit it
You got him, I got his back too
If he pop with his homie, the other nigga get smacked too
Look, I sell crack sippin' Remy Martin
Drunk out my mind, they don't test, they know the max, pay it faster than Papoose
I'm on my bullshit, I swear to God, son
Hardest working, me, Jaquae, Fred the Godson
We shook the state with that Mirror Mirror
It's looking good like the reflection on Shakira mirror
Capone said they don't know of you
You'll be ballin' when the streets get ahold of you
Look, he passed the ball to me and I ran to the top
He told me I don't got to be greedy to run with the Roc
He said keep it low, that's when I gave him a high five
Don't act surprised when you see me sippin' malta with tata
Don't quote me though, just get it real nigga, y'all with the Opie dope
Rappers hit me off the cans, don't smoke me though
You got your foot in the door, I got my arm and my foot and no hokey poke
Tell me the best fuckin' rhyme, tell me the most you wrote
Man, like whatever, man, I got like eight more minutes
This whatever man?

Go Cinderella lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Cam'ron & J.R. Writer)

[Chorus:]
Hey, come here row with the fellow!
Baby girl,
Go Cinderella!
Go Cinderella!
I see you on the dance floor, you know I'm a tell her.
Go Cinderella!
Go Cinderella!
I see you on the dance floor, you know I'm a tell her.
Go Cinderella!
Go Cinderella!
I need to rewind these plays from the top
Hey, call me...
Baby girl sweat cold as a cellar.
So cold I'm about to go get a sweater.
I see you on the dance floor, you know I'm a tell her.
Go Cinderella!
Go Cinderella!
I see you on the dance floor, you know I'm a tell her.
Go Cinderella!
Go Cinderella!

Hey, I say go Cinderella!
Keep it law while I raw this vanilla.
You're boyfriend told you I was broke,
Never ever, it's mozzarella every time I go see the...
Ka-ching!
Go Cinderella!
Go Cinderella!
Put me on the mix,
You so spin, Cinderella!
A towel, show me the coat for the weather,
A chauffer, how about a holly umbrella?
Go Cinderella!
Let's go Cinderella!
Let me now when you wanna go,
Cause whenever, ever, ever I'll be...
I will never do the... I'll be your patron.
Yeah! You can turn me in my zone,
Ain't nobody throwing rocks, but I'll probably get in stones.
I put on sight,
Be aware what you want, girl
We gonna get it all night!

[Chorus:]
Hey! Hey, come here row with the fellow!
Baby girl sweat cold as a cellar.
So cold I'm about to go get a sweater.
I see you on the dance floor, you know I'm a tell her.
Go Cinderella!
Go Cinderella!
I see you on the dance floor, you know I'm a tell her.
Go Cinderella!
Go, go Cinderella!

I pulled up
Came to the club just to borrow a vanilla,
I know I do, I trust...
But the bitch start acting a little too Cinderella.
No glass slipper...

Shit it!
Both hills above one hill,
And I watch getting you chills...
You all looking good in a skirt and a brow,
With them big body...
With the bitch getting touching feelings,
Cause I took the...
Now we're in the street with the nipples out,
I told that bitch I still put a pistol out.

[Chorus:]
Hey! Hey, come here row with the fellow!
Baby girl sweat cold as a cellar.
So cold I'm about to go get a sweater.
I see you on the dance floor, you know I'm a tell her.
Go Cinderella!
Go Cinderella!
I see you on the dance floor, you know I'm a tell her.
Go Cinderella!
Go, go Cinderella!

Cinderella, go sing it,
She rocks Luis Vuitton, Gucci, Fendi,..
...
In the club getting low, with a tag on the dress.
You know that, take a close back,
After the party to the morgue, get her dough back
Take a code act, grab my balls at,
Fuck all these models with a...
Yeah!...
... no next day, what happens next no need to explain.
Got slow, no, no ex-games,
Get straight to the... sex cage.

[Chorus:]
Hey! Hey, come here row with the fellow!
Baby girl sweat cold as a cellar.
So cold I'm about to go get a sweater.
I see you on the dance floor, you know I'm a tell her.
Go Cinderella!
Go Cinderella!
I see you on the dance floor, you know I'm a tell her.
Go Cinderella!
Go, go Cinderella!

Go Girl lyrics - Dyce Payso, Jim Jones & Keen Streetz

I don't understand
Clean or dirty

She fall in love with a scammer
Baby get ya camera you know I be band up shorty mad hot still so
I had fan her my new bitch a baddie
These bitches can't stand her
You go girl you go girl
You go girl you go girl
You go girl you go girl
You go girl you go girl

Go Girl cuz it could be ya Bday
Or you can treat me like it's mine and we could have a 3 Way
I can come fuck you on the way to Philly like we was on the freeway
You was the only one there when it was me against the DA
Tryna give flowers I need roses I can whip
Or atleast a couple bottles of the roses I can sip
I'm good with the 5 but I'm cozy in the 6
Matter of fact I'm even better over the stove with the brick
Do what we want we don't need your permission
Rolling up Blunts smoking weed while we dipping
You know everything's Gucci all these jeans that we dripping
Hands on the wheel with no key in the ignition I get busy busy
Not a little busy busy
Young nigga when I started moving wizzy wizzy
First car I had the box with the glizzy stizzy
When I had the whole block going frizzy frizzy

She fall in love with a scammer
Baby get ya camera you know I be band up shorty mad hot still so
I had fan her my new bitch a baddie
These bitches can't stand her
You go girl you go girl
You go girl you go girl
You go girl you go girl
You go girl you go girl

Go girl she love a scammer I'm a different guy
Gucci bubble with the hat
I'm a different fly
Having a 3 sum with these bitches
It's just them and I
2 bitches that's 2 faces like a Gemini

I got the bag and brought my brothers in it
They tried to rain on my parade
I brought the phantom with umbrellas in it
You know the crib got Louis covers in it
Boujie bitch she only like it when I fuck her in it

Over these dead presidents
These niggas still grieving
I went broke and sold Coke
That's the real reason
These hating niggas pocket watchers and they still peeking
Fly nigga got the mink looking like it's still breathing

She fall in love with a scammer
Baby get ya camera you know I be band up shorty mad hot still so
I had fan her my new bitch a baddie
These bitches can't stand her
You go girl you go girl
You go girl you go girl
You go girl you go girl
You go girl you go girl

Jim Jones other songs:


 

Going Crazy lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. The Game)

Yo Game you hear all this shit Chuck man (Jim Jones)
Theys the wrong terms (The Game)
Another day another dollar man (Jim Jones)
Dry my tears in this 40 ounce J (The Game)
Yeah man I'm a crack this jack man (Jim Jones)
Fuck it man walk me through Harlem down 105th deep or somethin (The Game)
Shit man take me through Compton man right I'll see the block with the gz man (Jim Jones)
Let's ride (The Game)
Yeah so what we tryin to say is I'm a rep the East (Jim Jones)
And I'm a rep the West (The Game)
And we gonna do this shit together so you know what that is? (Jim Jones)
Let's go! (The Game)

[Verse 1: Jim Jones]
Go alive through this ride feel like B.I.G. and Pac (ready to die)
Go alive up in my ride through the city blocks (all eyes on me)
Eve alive watch when I drive for the wicked cops (all day)
Got the call the other night they hear my nigga shot (the killed J.B.!)
They hear the sigh with the steady blicka
That was my guy when he ride if he got any bigga (gz up homie)
Got a payment in the blood in the heavy liquor
That we threw up on the floor for so many niggas (R.I.P.)
It's like my rage has a venomous flare
Like my hood is in the enemy square
Police like watch for the cops how they roll on my set
We holdin glocks and know we a threat (EASTSIDE)
We on them blocks when we roll through the jets
We load the lock that's the code of my set (gz UP!)
Takes more to fare o coin for gz through a tone
You better carry on we breeze through my zone (we ain't sellin them blocks)
Don't let the game and get called on excitement
We movin cain and don't get caught on indictment (that be brick money)
I smoke that weed to let my thoughts contemplate (too many choices)
These mean streets and sidewalks we congregated (all this in the jungle)
This is my choice of existance
To rep the hood and be the voice of resistance (I'm so rebellious)
Cause someone gotta stand for somethin
For every nigga who had them dreams and get them grams they pumpin (I wasn't one of them)

[Chorus: Jim Jones]
Please Lord save him
I'm a G going crazy
Please Lord save him
He's a G going crazy

[Verse 2: The Game]
Life ain't easy
Wish I could go to Heaven
Hop the Pearly Gates just to talk to Eazy
But my son need me
Homie The Game need me
Bein a nigga with a attitude ain't easy
Go see the doctor get the operation
Black wallstreet black cloud over the whole nation
We lost legends that's 60 reasons separation
Inhale the chronic smoke that's my meditation
We on two I'm on the bus
With more than an o
Smoke with me is more than I want you to know
It's 28 grams in the o
But you can bring back two if you cook it slow
That's black magic
One shot one life one son one automatic
Yeah nigga love is love
I go slug for slug
Cause death comes and smiles and hugs so

[Chorus: The Game]
Please Lord save us
I'm a G going crazy
Please Lord save us
I'm a G going crazy

[Verse 3: Jim Jones & The Game]
What's your name gangsta?
Chuck Taylor your neighborhood gangbanger
A.k.a. 45 stainless
What's your name gangsta?
Compton status 9 trey gangsta Eastsida rida
And what you claim gangsta?
Westside Compton blvd
And I tie my rag in a knot with Harlem
Wuss yo name gangsta?
East and the West connect so then I breeze through Compton no problem
The Byrd Gang's gonna getcha
If them gangbangas get to you first
The coroners takin pictures nigga
You know the G code
Cock and squeeze
Let that 38 revolver spin like gold deeps (yeah)
I know some OGz they remember me
Breezin through ridin o 50 at unknown speed
I do this for all the gangs in the towers
We no longer keep this thang in the silence (but) (shit)

[Outro: Jim Jones & The Game]
Please Lord save us
I'm a G going crazy
Shit man
What this right here is history man
What couldn't be done in the past, is now done in the present
We gonna let yo head in the future
Jim Jones Compton status Gz up
Shout to my nigga Game Chuck Taylor
Matter a fact you got something to say before I get out of here
Yeah I'm in Harlem man straight the fuck out of Compton
You know how we do it
I'm good here I'm good in Compton
Come and see me nigga
We do it right
Black wallstreet
Byrd Gang bitch
BLAH!

Going In For The Kill lyrics - Jim Jones

If going in is to go I think it's time for me to kill ya
I think it's time to let em know that I'm a
Ok let em know ok let em know Ok let em know Ok let em know
Ok let em know ok let em know Ok let em know Ok let em know
I think it's time for me to kill ya.

I'll be going to the point I'll make your bitch love me
That's that harlem shit we all gonna miss Huddy
You know them big bodyguards on my whips gunnin
I'm pretty nigga but I turn this shit ugly
I'll be hearin threats but I never hear a shot
Will I go to heaven Lord if the prayer stops
I'll be livin' like faster than a road-runna
be at the club ten bottles four gunners
Live once you do it twice its a bless
I'm on the third life I'm saint grace any question
Just bought a new watch and ...
I hopped out looking clean ...
Say life's a movie keep the cameras on
VVS solid tans mean they staying on
She had a freakin' dress on with no pennies on
I had twenties in my trus with my hammer on

If going in is to go I think it's time for me to kill ya
I think it's time to let em know that I'm a
Ok let em know ok let em know Ok let em know Ok let em know
Ok let em know ok let em know Ok let em know Ok let em know
I think it's time for me to kill ya.

We trained to kill marines called special Ops
Just for the trill I mean...
??
We double park a dice games on deadly blocks
We got the liquor all we need is ice cups
We got the blikkys loaded and it might stop
We gambling we're drinking till the night is up
Crack u gotta stack now pick your dice up
U gangstas two-twelvin on the corner side
..uptown...
Next morning woke up on California side
I was back up in my city for the morning rise
Just like the birds stay fly I'm always shittin
Might scoop your....the latest ride I'm always whippin
I free my mind and I hit the dour
...before they hit the towers

If going in is to go I think it's time for me to kill ya
I think it's time to let em know that I'm a
Ok let em know ok let em know Ok let em know Ok let em know
Ok let em know ok let em know Ok let em know Ok let em know
I think it's time for me to kill ya.

I used to cut off rocks...
Non these bitches stuck on my rocks like...
We in the hard top drop if u tryna find us
With the rear-view cameras so we can see behind us
??
And if they catch em in jail we put the county on em
And you can count em off if you was countin on em
He couldnt stand a shot the four was poundin on him
My diamonds here like Holyfield
And bitch we aint slippin cuz we holdin stairs
I'm drunk off that Rose Amber with da ceasar
I'm standin on the couch hammer blowin reefa
The dealer said 40 grand for extra features
A long way from ...
But most niggas fall with first 48
They tell me stay low I park the porsche on Ave.

Hold You Down lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Olivia)

Uh, Chris, what up
Long time
It ain’t been long enough though

Anything you need
I’ma hold you down
If you call on me
I’ma hold you down
Whatever you need
(You know them late nights is crazy)
I’ma hold you
I’ma hold you down, down, down

Anything you need
(Just chasin’ that paper)
I’ma hold you down
If you call on me
I’ma hold you down
(I ain’t goin’ nowhere)
Whatever you need
I’ma hold you
I’ma hold you down, down, down

First option and my last resort (Chris)
We was both laughin’ when you crashed the Porsche (Word)
I still remember when you bring the cash to court (Remember that?)
And sometimes though I feel we on a crash course (Forreal)
When we first met we was flying back and forth (You was open)
New York to Miami back to New York (Just jokin’)
I can’t front, I’m sorry ‘bout our last fight (Word)
I’m just happy that we can joke about your crash pipes
(I got that fixed though right)
You been through real situations
A couple times you had to punch a couple bitches faces (Almost got me lawsuit)
And all that pain you endured (Sorry bout that)
I’m tryin’ to tell you it won’t be the same moving forward
(I’m tryin’ to work wit’ it)
You know I buy you what you want when you want it (All the time)
I love how you get silly when I get you glunnin’ (You sour head)
But you smarter than most niggas (Forreal)
You tell me even watch out for the close niggas (I love you for that)

Anything you need
I’ma hold you down
If you call on me
I’ma hold you down
Whatever you need
I’ma hold you
I’ma hold you down, down, down

Anything you need
I’ma hold you down
If you call on me
I’ma hold you down
Whatever you need
I’ma hold you
I’ma hold you down, down, down

We go together like Martin and Gina
You lay me back like a Bentley or a Beemer (Oh, do I?)
You push my buttons like a coupe two seater ina wife beater
Baby bring it back cause I’m a keeper

And I can tell you gettin’ tired for bein’ all alone
(It’s worth it though)
My late nights in the stu when you call my phone (Chasin’ paper)
And through that you hold me down like we strings (I love you for that)
And you still goin’ hard like you in the paint (Like Flocka Flame)
But your friends probably still think I’m the worst yet (Fuck em though)
But they probably still mad at every purse you get (Which one next?)
Been a long time since we first met (Miami)
Six years and you went and took the first step (You crazy for that one)
You used to ask when we goin’ see a ring
Got tired of that, went and bought me the ring (Funny nigga)
But we did it all, got a dog and a house with it (House!)
I guess you was tired of playin’ spouse wit’ it (I love you boo)

Anything you need
I’ma hold you down
If you call on me
I’ma hold you down
Whatever you need
I’ma hold you
I’ma hold you down, down, down

Anything you need
I’ma hold you down
If you call on me
I’ma hold you down
Whatever you need
I’ma hold you
I’ma hold you down, down, down

Hustle In The Morning lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Sen City)

[Jim Jones:]
I'm on my summer time grind, hustle all winter so the summer time I shine
I'm married to the game I just need to come upon this
Trying to cop cars so I can have some summer fun
I'm talking bout the Vs, bitches see the sunshine
Keep a couple lookouts, just to see the one time
We hustle in the morning, like a nigga late for work
And don't forget your cook up let the fiends taste the work
And throw away your Boost cause they can trace the chirp
One block from a school zone, if that don't make a worse
And everyday police be hopping out to make a search
I love the 13th but I'm just waiting on the first
Little niggas pack guns to make the crowd disperse
The preacher own son, they be on his way to church
When you lose a friend I can't explain the way it hurts
Bought the newest Bent' just so I can chase the skirts
Then the beef tastes good but I ain't ate desert, yummy yummy
And I'm living in the city like the late LeVert
And I just gave my lawyer a new case to work
And they trying to get me shot for a eight for work
And we be up early baking egg and cheese
But the fiends coming short they be begging please
I gotta locksmith coming with a set of keys
And my nigga selling water like the 7 seas

[Sen City:]
I used to hustle in the morning
I still hustle in the morning
I hit the kush in the morning, tell her I see her in the morning
Let's pray I make it to another morning
I used to hustle in the morning
I still hustle in the morning
I hit the kush in the morning, tell her I see her in the morning
Let's pray I make it to another morning

Ever the wintertime cold
Keep them pieces in your hand in case you gotta throw
Them awake, cause, b, walkers creep slow
But Ds move fast
Another mark on your record
And Nigga that's your ass
I step on a whole half like shoes with bad feet
Girl say I got no heart I would say it's the last beat
I try to keep it secret, if I should wonder keep it
I wonder if God forgives for that abortion last week
Look how time goes by, locked up '05
Now I'm all woozy, wet wheelies on O Drive
Still use the hip Motorola, I done slang Coca-Cola
Coupes keeps switching - bipolar
Just to make sense on how shit has never changed
Like why they keep bringing Stevie Wonder to the games
Nah, it ain't no joke shit, met her King of Diamonds doing pole tricks
Now she on top doing pole tricks

I used to hustle in the morning
I still hustle in the morning
I hit the kush in the morning, tell her I see her in the morning
Let's pray I make it to another morning
I used to hustle in the morning
I still hustle in the morning
I hit the kush in the morning, tell her I see her in the morning
Let's pray I make it to another morning

Life Is A Party lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Josh Xantus)

[Hook: Josh Xantus]
Somebody push up to me
I'm a celebrate my life
Roly say a quarter to three
We ain't to wasting time
Life is a party same old thing
But I'm back it up for shawties
Drink it up, smoke it up
Treat it up now you want it up
'Cause life is just a party

[Jim Jones:]
Uh uh will the flight just a party
Can't live without me, I'm the life of the party
OPP all night, getting on it
Top gon steam some nice run shorty
High heal, jeans fitting nice on the body
I'm talking black thugs like a swipe of Ferrari
You dealing with a man who sold white in the lobby
And that was voices, butterflies through the yachtie
(So where we going?)
So I'm off in Cancun for kank
See the shot of them huffing up the poop I set
Let down bad man, what the shooter say?
If you move bad man promise you could spray

[Hook: Josh Xantus]
Somebody push up to me
I'm a celebrate my life
Roly say a quarter to three
We ain't to wasting time
Life is a party same old thing
But I'm back it up for shawties
Drink it up, smoke it up
Treat it up now you want it up
'Cause life is just a party

[Jim Jones:]
Then I, I'm living life like a part crasher
Drop knives in my ex Maseratti crasher
Cause either cardi or the master
I can't tell if the car or the broad is faster
And I'm aware of bone body snatcher
Yea, I had a nill and I am not a bastard
But I probly passed 'er, same night I smashed 'er
Came front, couple night, total disaster
Now watch my actions, you could see a movie
Drop the top, relaxing bitch, let him se ethe boobies
So, tell him come over he can fuck the ass of you
Just bring bottles in my tab in my fucking exit

[Hook: Josh Xantus]
Somebody push up to me
I'm a celebrate my life
Roly say a quarter to three
We ain't to wasting time
Life is a party same old thing
But I'm back it up for shawties
Drink it up, smoke it up
Treat it up now you want it up
'Cause life is just a party

[Jim Jones:]
So baby girl, I got the bottles on ice
See you got a thing for that big party life
Tell me what you like, tell me what's the clause
You ain't gotta worry, you're dealing with a boss
Now all my ladies shake their body body bodies
I thought I told you that the life's a party party
And everybody in ask them naughty naughty
And you can get a two shawty shawty shawty
And we don't care what time it close close close
And everybody in knows knows knows knows

[Hook: Josh Xantus]
Somebody push up to me
I'm a celebrate my life
Roly say a quarter to three
We ain't to wasting time
Life is a party same old thing
But I'm back it up for shawties
Drink it up, smoke it up
Treat it up now you want it up
'Cause life is just a party

Lost Ones lyrics - Joey Bada$$ (with Jim Jones) (feat. Annalise Azadian)

[Annalise Azadian:]
You were here
And now you're gone, disappeared
In the break of dawn it feels surreal
Oh how did it go so wrong
Oh how did it go so wrong

[Joey Bada$$:]
And everyday I think about you
Shirley Temples in your name, I gotta drink about two now
Livin' seems strange, functionin' without you, how
Do I cope with pain and feelin' doubtful
I swear still to this day man it cuts me so deep
Every time I see a grave I get down on one knee
Then I call the Lord's name and ask him is it just me
Or do I not deserve to just be at peace
Tryna keep my mind at ease, searchin' for relief
You was always there for me when nobody believed
Still in minor disbelief thinkin' bout you and STEEZ
Everyday till the clock stops, it's time left for me
But until then workin' hard is my bliss
It's the only way I know to take my mind off of this
I ain't got too much choices but to focus instead
And I can still hear your voices at the back of my head, yeah

[Annalise Azadian:]
You were here
And now you're gone, disappeared
In the break of dawn it feels surreal
Oh how did it go so wrong
Oh how did it go so wrong

[Jim Jones:]
We supposed to hit the tunnel for your birthday
But three shots then it turned to the worst day
Me and Dough was up the block with the pistol with us
For some niggas up the block that had an issue with us
But that's here nor there
It hurt to see your family have to cry tear for tear
Still eye for eye
I be paranoid I keep the steel by my side
Not too much has changed
Still be pourin' liquor, drinkin' pain for the pain
Wishin' you was here
Wishin' you was with me buyin' whips every year
Shit to get you back, I be callin' God up
Did you get to see Stacks, did he tell you squad up?
Did you see Pac? Is he thuggin' with Fatal?
Did you see Pac? Is he thuggin' with Cado?
There's a whole bunch of others
Of mothers that cried and brothers that died up in the gutter

[Annalise Azadian:]
You were here
And now you're gone, disappeared
In the break of dawn it feels surreal
Oh how did it go so wrong
Oh how did it go so wrong

Love Me No More lyrics - Jim Jones

[Chorus:]
Now how u gon’ tell me you don’t love me no more (How you gon’ tell me that?)
Cuz I’m out here getting this bread (You hatin on this paper chase?)
Tryna get my Momma a crib (Shit don’t even sound right)
Tryna get up out the ghetto
Now how the Hood talkin bout they don’t need me no more
(What’chu want me stuck in the ghetto, listen imma get out)
Cuz a motherfucka push that GT
(Then you what, Imma come back for the niggas need to be reached for)
It’s a problem tryna take that from me
(You niggas is slippin)
Cuz im packin heavy metal uhhuh

I hear the streets talking funny (shit)
So I laugh (haha) tell em keep talking funny (keep talking funny)
Imma keep talking money (yup)
And all different types (what)
The yens and the pounds (pounds)
Nigga just for spite push, the Bentley round town (sparrows)
Tripin’ in ice I still be up town (Harlem)
I hear em kicking up dirt on my name (so what)
But I could clean em up like detergent on a stain
Or ill beam em up we got birdies on the chain (easy)
Respect my mind or respect my grind (cause what)
Gone to the bank when its cheque signing time (okay)
Its Tito Borough when it’s jet flying time (clear-port)
And we so thorough we the set fly or die (Dip Set)
The bitches funny I’m talking bout life (yup)
It was Sunday to Sunday on New York’s chilly nights (that’s right)
And we was hungry nauseas for a bite
But if the world’s apple pie of course you want a slice (yup)

[Chorus]
Now how u gon’ tell me you don’t love me no more (hoe you gon’ tell me that
Cuz Im out here getting this bread (you hatin on this paper chase)
Tryna get my Momma a crib
Tryna get up out the ghetto
How the Hood Talkin bout they don’t need me no more
Cuz a motherfucka push that GT
It’s a problem tryna take that from me
Cuz im packin (Jones) heavy metal uhhuh

Heard somebody speak my name, but death was next to it (pray for me)
My next breath was let’s do it (kid)
Got me runnin through the game with my vest and my best shooters (who’s next)
Best of event VVS and best ya jewellers (new year)
Nigga outta lame ya shit, gets chewed up (get em)
And im tryna kill the pain with like two sluts (what’s up baby)
Use to say money ain’t a thang to I blew up (what)
Then money’s everything, but that thang can break your crew up (true stills)
Where did love go? (where)
And where does that leave us? (where we at)
They holdin’ grudges on how they receive us (fa sho)
And show the judges on how they perceive us
Hate to see a thug Nigga whip the forein features (ballin)
Secretary’s that Condoleza (yup)
Cash first, secondary we use the visa (uh huh)
Blast first, never worry about police cuffs (nope)
Ya either leave us or you free us
I need money!

[Chorus:]
Now how u gon’ tell me you don’t love me no more
Cuz I’m out here getting this bread
Tryna get my Momma a crib
Tryna get up out the ghetto
How the Hood talkin bout they don’t need me no more
Cuz a motherfucka push that GT
It’s a problem tryna take that from me
Cuz I’m packin heavy metal

Followers