On My Way To Church (2004)

• Only One Way Up
• This Is Jim Jones
• Let's Ride
• Certified Gangsta
• Jamaican Joint
• End Of The Road
• Shotgun Fire
• Lovely Daze / Memory Lane
• Spanish Fly
• Livin Life As A Rider
• Twin Towers
• When Thugs Die
• This Is Gangsta
• Crunk Muzik
• Bend N Stretch
• Talking To The World 

Only One Way Up lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Cam'Ron, Juelz Santana)

[Jim Jones]

We set them presidents, to get them presidents

Over the ones that are dead, we'll put guns to your head

Put dots on your loaf like you was wonder the bread

Sheek, Zeke, Hell Rell, and I got some in the Feds

I contradict what ever the government says

For them boys on my back wit them bugs by my bed

They still thinkin' that we coppin' sellin raw

Tryin' to put us through them Rico and them Rockefeller' laws

I'm in LA the top down the pedals floored

Wit a hot stiletto whore, suck my cock tell the law

For all you faggots I see past all your cheap stares

Nowadays I see my past from a beach chair

I the fellin' so relaxed and refreshin' when chillin'

A total change from movin crack off the steps of the buildin's

Rollin wit gangs in the back of the ' jects where the killin'

In Park Ave. where young Chris body found

A number is all to add to task body count

Watch it boy they'll show you how that shotty bounce, bounce

[Juelz]

I'm the most incredible, to ever do what you cats'll never do, or be able to

I'm ahead of you, cause I spit like I never ate, and if I did then I'm just never full

Stop the hoe jokes, I'm not a homo, better believe I'll cock the 4-4

I ain't Mexican, but I'll stretch your man, yes I am a fuckin' vato loco

I went from the pot with cocoa

To the block with cocoa

To gettin' locked, catchin' a charge dealin' wit the cops and cocoa

Now I'm just hot like cocoa

You can catch me on the block, being watched, in a drop

The same color as chocolate cocoa

I done walked in the street, with so much raw in my sneaks

God dam, got home and had corns on my feet

I see the lord when I sleep, and often he speaks

He says Juelz you better than all of these creeps

So I got all my shit light, got on my shit right

Not a lot of thems this nice

But the games funny so I gotta do shit right

So to the ball drop, and the world blow up, I'm a twirl shit up

Until my peeps come home, Zeke come home, better believe I'm a keep on beastin' on

[Cam'Ron]

Where should I began our pompous

A thousand wins accomplished

Known throughout the atlas, honest been accomplished

You'll be abolished

Men, children, women astonished

The Don is the one, jewelry way beyond it

Chunky blessed on the chest

Funky S when I dress

Thunder storm damn

Monkey wrenching' her fresh

But I cope wit the rain, mad I can't float with my dame, down to the coastal wit caine

Maine, my boat is a plane

I land on the water, here I go boastin' again

I keep toast, give a toast, inhale smoke for the pain

Girls gone wild, nope

They goin' insane

All doped off the fame

Jump rope with my chain

Now thats off the chain, Ma take off your chain

the 40 will off your brain, kids will be lost and claimed

Cause of Walton James, now in the orphan game

Whether adoption or foster its all the same

Jim's the rider of riders

JR's the writer of writers

Juelz you know him well, hell he the fire of fire

I'm the supplier, baffled thats the hustler

Trife got a knife for that apple inside your jugular

The Big Apple, I tackle all the customers

Put it on the apple at the castle, come and fuck with us

And further more, got the birds of raw, I deserve a tour

Hey, hey holla' back, swallow that

Thats murda' whore

In a Persian turban, swervin', that Suburban mergein', curvin', herb in the air

Yeah, yeah I'm hurtin y'all

See I crash and cop it, mash and mop it, blast a rocket

Natural born hustler, yeah crack I stocked it

Now my drugs are legal, so just pass the profit

Three months alone Sizzurp will smash the ' Notic

We them B boys in one year a quarter billion

Here come the clothin' line, I got your order children

And thats more than illin'

Long as the Lord is willin'

I'm a pour in millions, so applaud a villain

Killa

This Is Jim Jones lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Cam'Ron)

[Cam'Ron]

Killa

This my man Jim Jones

You know we been through a lot of devistation, larceny

Defeat, misconceptions

Man, fuck all that, I don't know what that's about

But fuck all that

Jim, I'm in the building

Dipset, it's your turn, you up nigga!

Let's go!

[Jim Jones]

I'm puffin my weed and these niggaz, they mad

I'm frontin' this season (Dipset!)

As far as they hoes, they want me to see 'em

I fuck 'em and then they don't want me to leave 'em (Don't go!)

An addictive obsession, I twist 'em, I sex 'em

My dick's an obsession (Yeah!)

They call me, they miss me, they stressin' (Jones!)

I call 'em, they miss me, they stressin' (Jones!)

These hoes, they sayin' that shit that'll kill ya

I'm rich now, this kid look familiar (Oh yeah?)

As far as my Dips, we rich

The cars and the whips

We spent what you spent on your car on my wrist

Don't bother me bitch

In the midst of this grind, i'm twistin' my lime (Yeah!)

I'm 'bout to get cash, and you can kiss ass

Dipset got this shit up on smash (Smash)

[Hook- Cam'Ron]

This is Jim Jones, he's breezin' on chrome

Ya best bet is leave him alone

O.G. in them stones, spent g's on them stones

Now mami just send me the tone

[Jim Jones]

These are true stories

I used to live poorly

And now man I live in two stories (That's the law)

Get suited in Maury

The coupe is Ferrari

The coupe cost 140, you don't wanna race

I will move on you shorty

Look good on them cameras

They love me, I put my whole hood up on cameras

They bloody, niggaz in hood with them blamas

Tell me, so do it for grandma (Sally!)

We did it from druggin' and (?) (We did it)

We did it from hustlin' and comin' up wrong (We did it)

We did it from strugglin' and comin' up strong (We did it, we did it)

Still runnin' with cons, with guns in their palms

You front on Dipset, we will dump on your moms (Boom!)

Or come through with bombs

And stop and park, and set off them bombs (Boom!)

[Hook]

[Jim Jones]

You got to admit (Yeah)

I'm hot when I spit

Like a summertime's tropic's eclipse (Sizzlin')

Like a drop on the strip with no top on the whip

A block (?) with them cops on the strips (Hot, hot)

With glocks on their hip (Yeah)

Like shells when they drop when them shots get dismissed (Boom!)

The pain in my heart been my aim from the start

We started when we came from the star

Now we all gainin' on charts (You know)

With back to back hits, like Yankees an' shit (Uh)

Dipset, we gangsta as shit (That's right)

But I credit my ghetto

'Cause now we rock platinum, the preciousest metal (Bling!)

Don't press us, we'll press on this metal

And blow you apart

Shoulda known from the start (Yeah!)

My jewels, they glow in the dark

You fools, keep playin' ya part

[Hook]

Let's Ride lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. J.R. Writer)

[Jim Jones (talking)]

Yea, Jones...Capo Status

You know what this is about! Its about riders...

all my states around the countries

all my niggaz from ghetto to ghetto, my niggaz ready to ride..

R.I.P Biggie Smalls this one's for you..

[Chorus 2X: Jim Jones]

Let's ride, here go some riders, I hope you know the riders

Them holding, rollin riders, lock and load my riders

You know we riders, that ride out and get high, and just ride

And get high and just ride

[Jim Jones]

Lock and load the clip, see po-po then slow the whip

Big ass guns in a stolen whip, but if you got weed then roll the shit

You rollin with

Them rollin Dips, straight up weed no poofin these

Straight up G's no doopin me, brazy b's that shoot up shit

Major cheese off of movin bricks

From cuttin up rain to shuflin rain

Baggin these hoes fuckin some dames

Waking up morning and fuckin the dame

I'm in restaurants Mr. Chows, stuntin hard like 50 thou

I keep my goons my niggaz wild, shootin that thing til ya shit go BLAOW!

The palmin weed cant come my needs, Hatian niggaz bombin weed

Gats mo-mo, techs gon blow, all in these streets

Shots with a four pound, AK when it go round

Dont play when it go round

In little Haiti them niggaz crazy like "get 'em baby!"

[Chorus: Jim Jones 2x]

Let's ride, here go some riders, I hope you know the riders

Them holding, rollin riders, lock and load my riders

You know we riders, that ride out and get high, and just ride

And get high and just ride

[Jim Jones]

Call my gang to bust, know you fags aint dangerous

Must be high off angel dust, to think that you can bang wit us hang wit us

Tape you to the hood no thang with us, shoot up ya club get ya mangled up

I call my gangstas up, and get ya faggot ass tangled up

Now what you bitches, step on the corner wit a bunch of G's

Tryna dump the heat, while you duck police

Me myself I run the streets wit no regard

(They) like "OH MY GOD!"

We just sittin here not to lose, high off weed and lots of booze

Call my G's when I got to move, cause I drop 100 G's when I copped the Coupe

Niggaz round the way tryna take my life, cause I run round the way wit a neck full of ice

Gotta bunch of doggs and I set 'em to bite, if you niggaz want war we can do it tonight

I'm prayin to the Lord that optimize, DipSet ByrdGang know I'ma ride

And I'ma rep til my last breath, take a pull of my last hit

Pull up on these niggaz and blast the bitch, eastside when I mask the bitch

We ride on some panther shit, gotta go prac, lotta load gats

If a niggaz run on me then I gotta go back...back...(and we gon ride out and get high)

[Chorus: Jim Jones 2x]

Let's ride, here go some riders, I hope you know the riders

Them holding, rollin riders, lock and load my riders

You know we riders, that ride out and get high, and just ride

And get high and just ride

[Chorus 2X: J.R. Writer]

You know we riders, I hope you know we riders

You think you roll wit liars, you'll hear them 4's wit fire

Listen lame, I'm insane, to this game, get this flame in ya brain

Like "BANG BANG BANG BANG..."

[J.R. Writer]

Yo, who is realer than us? we'll turn jailors to sluts

I'm too real chill, you can't inhale what I puff

Peep it duke, me to you's, like a whale to a gup

Keep ya Chuck Taylors, I'ma go taylor my Chucks

You'll get whaled on the snuck, gat for ice, match it twice

Faggot dyke, mag to bite, there go ya appetite

My niggaz blast the pipe, black ya lights, flag the kite

Shout to my man Tito Lino facin natural life

I'm just natural nice

You's hermaphrodite, my man Zeke be home 3 nigga pass the kite (Freeky!)

This the facts of life, facts of ice, scrap ya right

Cabbage sliced, matchin chain, matchin Nikes

You's a coward please, I keep the power squeezed

Creep this thunder'll leave you under them flower trees

I done crowd the pease, wit about a thousand keys

Ask about me, I aint gotta break a smile to cheese

Certified Gangsta lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Cam'Ron, 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: Cam'Ron]

We still in ages of glocks

Razors or octs

'Cause I lay in the drop

Pump the base on the pocket

Move the H on our block, in front of H&R Block

See the face on our watch, put your face on our cock

I keep the looga hug

Show you how to use the snub

Whoop-te-woo, fuck around be you I plug

I don't do the drugs, baby I move the drugs

Right on the computer love, it sound like computer love

Duck the cop-cappers

And them top-hatters

Fock flavors, harlem world we got gators

Not dead I said they alive

Lions, Tigers, Bears, oh my

It's a straight zoo

A to Z, May to April

Bring the Apes through

Fuck around you be ape food, baked food

9 bitches 8 dudes

Diamond visions, great cubes

Get it straight fool

[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]

Jamaican Joint lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Cam'ron & Juelz Santana)

[Cam'Ron]

Clowns don't come around, pound pounds I pump in town

Do like House of Pain, Kriss Kross, jump around

Jumpin' down, stuntin style, over those I polly

Then merk-o from squalie, ducati and Roberto Cavali mami

We feelin' them scoobies, you stealin' them gucci's booby

Get it right, its Emilio Pucci, hoochie (hoochie)

Write for sci-fi, I'll be pipin' five pies, the cat went like the nine lives

Ten halves, five pies, ten cars, five drives, ten bars, fi-fi

That's fifty-five thou, sha-na-na, bye bye

My fittings touched tailored, joined by Chuck Taylors

On the yacht with glocks, we sum thug sailors

You drinkin' old gold, rockin that old gold

We in rose gold, at the Rose Bowl

Send you a bowl of roses, we dun sold souls

Slow toes, I'm so cold, my dough folds

Killa!

[Chorus: Jim Jones]

So get your parachute, and row your boat nigga

Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high

We fly high, like bo! Bo! bo!

Now your row your boat nigga, and get your parachute

Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high

Bo! Bo! and fly high like Bo! Bo!

[Jim Jones]

So on this road to success, I grew up in the boat o'y'all

Gettin closed by the jets

I learned my code from the set, I took my oath to the death

I risked the quarter to bing, I bet this forty a ring

Cams from the 40th wing, the westside of harlem

And rat roach infested, them black po's in vests's

They stack most impressive, ride through Tana's town

That's where them grams be found, breeze through the broadway side

And where they always reside, and so much raw yay,

You know all them boys be outside

With them sirens and guns, all the noise be outside,

And yes we scour the slums

You know our toys be outside, co-co boy to ride,

Five-hundred thou on the block

the ones when we ride on the block, pumpin them bow's for the rocks

Look I came up from that, cookin' that came from crack

New boys shinin' man, New York's ryder man, look how I got'em Damn!

[Chorus: Jim Jones]

So get your parachute, and row your boat nigga

Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high

We fly high, like bo! Bo! bo!

Now your row your boat nigga, and get your parachute

Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high

Bo! Bo! and fly high like Bo! Bo!

[Juelz Santana]

I'm a, boy shotta, born poppa, y'all liars, y'all notta

I squeeze more fire, call coppers, squalie!

Hear that, pumper squeeze, yeah that, pumper be

Shoved in your mouth for talkin' all the fuck-a-ree

We move with the tune boy, we shoot'em and move boy

Yes you could say we are the Rudest of rude boys

Move that, do that, juke that girl, who dat who dat who dat girl

I wanna meet her, I wanna see her, I wanna skeet skeet

I wanna juice that girl

Grippin good, pimpin good, livin' good, shit is good, test me, lets see

I wish a nigga would (aye)

Y'all kids is a waste, when I spark clips is a waste

When alcoholics spit in your face, quick get a tatse

Nigga I ride high, drive high, fly high, sky high, high high I'm high

So high, so fly, float by, oh why, oh my, and I don't know why

Whoaa...

[Chorus: Jim Jones]

So get your parachute, and row your boat nigga

Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high

We fly high, like bo! Bo! bo!

Now your row your boat nigga, and get your parachute

Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high

Bo! Bo! and fly high like Bo! Bo!

End Of The Road lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Bun-B, T.I.)

[T.I. talking]

Jim Jones what it is homie

Killa Cam, Freekz Zeeky, Juelz whats happ'nin

Hey 'a aye... yea yea yea 'a aye

T.I.P. nigga y 'a y yeeah. Aye a aye

I'm up in Harlem to put it down wit my muthafuckin folks

Dipset bitch. A town to muthafuckin NY

nigga you already know what it is. Bankhead

C-rod, Grand Hustle, Diplomats

you dont like it kill yaself nigga. Lets go

[verse 1 T.I.]

Late night straight white fa ya base pipe

No mo quarter O's get ya weight right

Crack rock black glock kept it waist height (hey)

It hit ya mug you dont imagine what ya face like

American pie I'm tellin you guys

you want beef wit us well who the fucks preparin you guys

We sparin you guys get buried alive

What you rushin fa, act like you in a hurry to die

Some I let 'em fly 'fore I let that ride

I paralize ya like Supermans horseback ride nigga

Walk up on ya car and scorch dat ride

Flat tires, glass shattered wit a corpse inside

A town break down straight pounds of dro'

Still deal if you want 10 birds or mo

Pimp Squad, Dipset I know ya heard before

If we called you a bitch you deserved it hoe. Aye

[verse 2 Jim Jones]

I cop bricks of the crack (dat yayo)

And take it to my block, strip or my trap, my block strip is so trapped

Cops quick wit a strap, and you'll be scared shitless

How they where the big fifth and load up flares and biscuits

I'll take ya bitch from you, bring her back wit smeared lipstick (She Mine)

You can compare ballistics, but it's mere physics (Pimpin)

I'm 2-3's on drops, I used to play hoopties on blocks

plottin man like who he gon pop

In this tragic city, now I'm Bankheadin

4 tens headin down in ATL's Magic City

Yes the stash is pretty, and the mag hold 50

We take ova towns, then send the Rovers 'round

Lookin fa hoes to pound, ya local hoochie spot

Lookin fa hoochies hot, to get they coochie popped

I love the titty bars, I love my niggaz pa

Dipset, Pimp Squad yo lets get it pa

[Bun-B talking]

Yeah already trill niggaz in this bitch

UGK know what I'm sayin. Thats off top fool

You already know. Wreck it boyz. Go down like that

What up Jones. Dipset nigga

[verse 3 Bun B]

Bitch my Cadillac is candy and my pistol is pearl

My best friend is a pimp and his bottom bitch is ya girl

I got them 84's that clank, the big diamonds that blank

Plus them hoes that pop pills, smoke kill, and sip drank

Fuck what ya think I'm tryin to tell you how life is give it and take it

My lil brotha in the pen, where niggaz shiv'rin and shakin

We got a million dollar team, wit one gone

So I'm takin my 500 to flip in the game

to have somethin for 'em when he come home

My two older brothers locked up, both of 'em smokin

Principals gon be fucked up my lil neices and nephew heartbroken

Seein Daddy in a cage at that age, it fuck ya mind up

So at this stage in the game I gots to really get my grind up

So you gon see me in yo city doin a verse or a show

Or maybe even servin these niggaz a couple of dem thangs on the low

Dipset affiliated so you can hate it or love it

But it you keep pushin ya luck bitch my middle fingers gon shove it

Know what I'm sayin

Shotgun Fire lyrics - Jim Jones

[Intro / Chorus]

Dip-Set, uh

(Jones) Money on mind

(Capo Status) Mind on my money

(Dip-set nigga) My money on mind

(You know the streets is what it is nigga) Mind on my money

(Watch ya step and watch ya moves) My money on mind

Mind on my money

My money on mind

[Verse 1]

Shit, make 'em believe in this prophecy (movement)

You can see I'm tryin to lead my democracy (Dip-Set)

To get money and rip sleeve off of my city (New York)

And slow down, then try to breeze thru the projects B (Taft)

And how I speeds in velocity (160)

We came up movin keys of that knotty B (that Yae-Yo)

My man caught 10, couldn't find the keys to the lobby B

The boys rushed him, 2 keys of mahogany (Damn!)

In my life you can't see me not possibly (Nooo!)

How we swoop up in Harlem, 20 Coupes when we mobbin'

40 troops if it's problems (What Nowww!)

Cause 1 nigga you know is a shotgun driver (jus 1 nigga)

Ready to dump triggers, that shotgun fire (blakka!)

I ain't gone front nigga I shot some guys up

(didn't kill 'em though, fuck 'em though)

And they came back to my block like riders (Yop!)

But I'm like "Crouching Tiger", spin, roll, crouch and fire (Boom, Yea!)

A fast retally (Uh Huh!)

Now it's cash we tally

Miami, Atlanta, fuck it we smash to Cali (L.A.X.!)

Back on L.A. Ave, you know the Lennox strip

Where they Henny sip

Beef we let the semi rip

[Chorus]

Mind on my money, my money on mind

Mind on my money, my money on mind

Mind on my money, my money on mind

You fuck wit Dip-Set, I will press on this .9

Mind on my money, my money on mind

Mind on my money, my money on mind

Mind on my money, my money on mind

You fuck wit my paper, I'll press on this .9

[Verse 2]

And yeah we world renowned (U.S.)

And I might twirl thru town (uh huh)

And in a Dip-Set mansion is where ya girl be found (hollaaa!)

How can a pearl be drowned (yea)

How can a diamond not shine (uh huh)

Man I'm on my G mack

I scoop up dimes all the time (bad bitches)

They love my pimp juice (yeah)

I let my crimps loose

They get a glimpse, ooooooo

Some went and cinch douche'

Scoop her feed her feed her shrimp soup (that's right)

Mind fuck her, brain fuck her

mouth screw her 'til it hurt, uh, (then what?) shit

She scream "Do me it hurt" (uh huh)

Ill have her movin' that work

I mean 2 of them chirps

Up in her Dooney and Bourke (gettin' money)

So ruthless it hurts

I mean I'm truely bezerk

When I scoop up my cash man, I swoop up and murk (errrrrrrrr!)

Yea, a trick and a bag bitch (uh huh)

2 bricks and a bad bitch

Shit, them bitches mackin' (they love me)

I'm as sick as maggot (rite)

But I don't fuck wit no bitch if she ain't worth no chips or no cabbage

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]

I'm so problematic (yeah)

And do to servin' Harlem-matics (damn)

My fame and fortune still revolve wit' static (that beef)

Still involve wit' savage types that move drugs

365 all around set every nite (perrico)

I ain't the passive type (nope)

On the benches where I crashed them nites (movin')

Blowin' hemp, movin' slabs of white (hustlin')

Spend days up in court

How I shaved weight to snort

Give that to the press or Dave Mays in the source (suttin to read about)

Yes, since success it has changed

Since we, stepped up in this game and stepped up wit' our game (ballin')

No more chef cuttin' cain

Hoes X'd up in they brain

Lemme sex up in the Range

So much princess cuts in my chains (Bling!)

[Chorus]

Lovely Daze / Memory Lane lyrics - Jim Jones

[Intro / Chorus fading in and out in background]

Ok, ok, (heeeyyyy) yeah

We back in this bitch (Lovely Daze like this...)

Jim Jones nigga (you know!), Capo Status (COOFIE SMACKA!)

A.k.a Jim Caso (lovely painter), and I jus love it man (Lovely Daze like this...)

I love paintin' these pictures for the hood, you dig

(that's where I'm at Eastside)

Its Dip-Set, Eastside (come on!), lets ride

[Verse 1]

They got me livin' like (what!), I aint worried 'bout my well being

I used to hurry up and sell fee (2 for 5!)

Like I aint worried for the jail scene (fuck cops)

'Til I got knocked, yeah observed in my cell C (ya honor)

I was young and was restless

Run around wit' my gun and my vestes

Yeah I'm hungry and reckless (what)

But no one better test us (no way)

Cause I got nuttin to lose, suttin to prove, I'm screamin' EASTSIDE

(EASTSIDE!!!)

While I dump on you dudes (Dip-Set!)

And what we live by (yeah), what we gon' die by (Dip-Set)

So these rules I abide by

I'm duckin' shots on a driveby, finger the cops, yeah when they ride by

(Byrdgang!)

Squally, is what they scream, fuck it

As I polly wit' my team puff it

We on the scene rugged

Yeah, we get our green thuggin'

Fuck it, I scream out, yo I'm uh G, fuck it

[Chorus: As well as Jones speaking in between]

Lovely Daze like this, I miss I miss

(Lovely Daze man. When I say Lovely Daze I'm talkin' bout.)

Lovely Daze like this, I miss I miss

(Fresh in High School, fresh with that freedom. You know explorin' the

streets nigga)

Lovely Daze like this, I miss I miss

(You know, takin' no prisoners man, ready to do whatever whenever)

Lovely Daze like this, I miss I miss

(Fuck what they talkin' bout man, you jus doin you man. Find yaself!)

[Verse 2]

You know how kids scheme (how they shceme?), we had big dreams (yeah!)

Of coppin' them Benzez up on big scene (bling bling)

All glittered in jewels just like Liberraci (mmm!)

Look at my dipped posse (yeah!)

Look how this shit done got me (Crazy!)

I'm some paranoid shit (yop!)

Its kinda scary I carry the 4 fifth (who want it!)

Its kinda brazy that it be like that

Aint no play me and you be right back

You better blaze me if it be like that (get me nigga!)

They got some issues with views I got (uh huh)

I carry pistols when I cruise my block (lets ride!)

Its uh issue if I cruise ya block

My dogs 'ill get you, know the rules or not (wut up now fool!)

Uh, yeah, we will cruise ya parameters (where they at?)

You caught slippin', no rules or parameters (where they at?)

Fuck the crews, fuck the cameras (fuck police)

I tell you now, aint no dudes that can handle us (bllllddddaat!)

[Chorus]

Lovely Daze like this, I miss I miss

(Ok, now it done got lovlier, you know. We done did the hustlin' thing)

Lovely Daze like this, I miss I miss

(We done had fun on the streets. Now we entered the game and we gettin

millions)

Lovely Daze like this, I miss I miss

(What's more lovlier than that? I'm tellin you I'm loving this shit. It

aint no taking me back man)

Lovely Daze like this, I miss..

(I'm tellin you man. Its Lovely Daze from here on end, you hear me.)

[Verse 3]

Can't forget about my born pos' (Nope!)

Can't forget about my night gangs

Bet it all to the dice game (yea)

Bet I brawl wit' my light frame (Fo' sho)

I get it on like I'm Ty-sane (Lets Brawl!)

And every year more niggaz deceased (R.I.P.)

I shed a tear and pour liquor on streets (jus 4 u)

And burn a fear to raw spliffs of the leaf (and get high)

And say a prayer, Lord where's the relief (my dudes)

I'm burnin' purple jus' watchin my ghetto birds (ok)

And peep the circle Ill tell you its several birds (peep game)

We gettin' guac, we hustlin' peddle birds (that yae)

And fuck the cops, we bustin' our metal birds (Desert Eag'z)

We from the block we love our Stiletto birds (hey baby!)

That's why we hustle and grind

So we can pluck us a dime

And feed her some game and fuck up her mind

And she give me brain, I'm puffin' my lime

So lovely (Dip-Set!)

[Chorus]

Lovely Daze like this, wit my Dips, with my Dips

Fuckin wit my Dips, wit my Dips, gettin' chips

Fuckin wit my Dips, my Dips, buyin' whips

Jus fuckin' wit Dips, my Dips...

[Outro and fades into next song Memory Lane]

Haha ha, yeah, its Lovely Daze man (that's right). Jim Jones, fuck it

shit, Capo Status. What's fuckin wit that man (Coofie smacka). For my

Dip-Set, from hear on end its Lovely Daze. That's what this song is

about. For my riders, ride out.................................

Fireman

[Chorus (repeat 2x)]

'Cuse me ma, we cruise around this strip down Memory Lane

Lets take this time to rekindle

Puffin on this purple, sippin Hennessy, thats trippin like Dame

Pour out ya liquor, light ya candles

[Verse]

I was rippin and runnin while I'm grippin my gun (outdoors)

And I use to, play wit my heat I was waitin to bust (fuck that)

And I say, fuck the police they better take me in cuffs (til I go)

Cause I'm in, love wit the streets yea I'm shakin my nuts (hold it tight)

And it was, regular shit havin fun wit my troops (uhh huh)

Yeah, get in the party have our guns in boots (stash that)

And, New Years 'ill come we bustin guns off the roof (you got that)

Cause, we pissy drunk up off that 100 proof (twisted)

Plus, we pitchin packs jus to get us some sneakers (paper)

While, we sippin yak and we twistin up reefa (gettin right)

Youthful offenders on the stoop gettin bent up dodging police in them

juvenile centers, my life is brazy (ooooo!)

Teenagers are wild, they charged like adults we pray it loud "Dear God

we in Hell", Lord can you save me

One of the pictures that he stuck in my brain

As I'm cruisin down the strip of ghettos Memory Lane

[Chorus until it fades out]

'Cuse me ma, we cruise around this strip down Memory Lane

Lets take this time to rekindle

Puffin on this purple, sippin Hennessy, thats trippin like Dame

Pour out ya, liquor light candles

Spanish Fly lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Chico DeBarge)

[Chico harmonizes to music from "Scarface" until 0:25]

[Jim Jones]

I seen it all from a player's eyes (mack)

Look at this world from my latest ride (Benz)

We knock 'em all if you let this slide (that's right)

This how you ball if you a major guy (whoa)

With alcohol and a hazy high

The city lights in the jaded sky

I had this girl, wanna make her mine

I can't lie, I was interested in her (what happened)

We shared a bed in the club, and even crept to dinner (Miami)

It's such a funny situation

Cause I knew she had a man in the ave. by reputation (what's what)

I get around (okay) I'm just a product of my occupation (so what)

I asked her number and she contemplated (what happened)

I'm losin patience (uh-huh) and it's startin to get flagrant (so what)

Seize the moment or forever regret it

Three in the mornin and I'm stressin to catch her (you know I need that)

Creepin up on her and applyin the pressure

Me and my homey A don't think I can get her, uhh, but

[Chorus: Chico DeBarge]

It's crazy, smooth ghetto angel so amazin

Smokin gettin high with the daisy

Thinkin 'bout makin you my lady, maybe

You're a bad girl, she say I only want her for my pleasure

Slow hit it from the back, I do it better

She left me with a kiss and I let her, never sweat her

[Jim Jones]

You seekin love is watchin movies on and off the stations (hell no)

Those commercials was our intermissions (for what)

For the {?} and the tongue-kissin (what else) and one instance

Turns some heated touchin to some freaky fuckin (just get it)

My situation is a bit of trouble

See this affair is a bit of struggle

And my persona and my thuggish morals

That was enough to start a lover's quarrel

Since she had a man but he wasn't loyal (I hear that)

Got loose enough just to open up (then what)

It be the mornin 'fore he sober up (twisted)

I call the shit like Punky Brewster (what?)

And she never met a thug looser

Star nigga party with the snub shooter (bang bang)

My thug True is probably posted in back

We party hard, get so crazy

And we smoke and drink 'gnac (we ain't never scarred)

I'm tryin to slide in the night on some smutty sex

Niggaz beepin my phone to ask me did I get her yet

[Chorus]

[Jim Jones]

It's gettin nervous now (why) cause the word in town (was what)

Is that your man got the word that we done flirtin 'round

In your Beemer merkin 'round (err) foreplay in the hallways

So now we hit the house and pull the curtains down (close that curtain)

We laugh and we joke, we drink and I pass you the smoke

Smack your ass when you walk, when fuckin I grab and you joke

(Have sex at night) As we lay and we chill

Your crib, nice apartment, who's payin the bills

This type of shit'll get you sprayed and you killed

(That's that Harlem shit) Like {?} shot in "Paid in Full"

This is not a movie script, some of my truest shit

Selfish premonition, out of sight I'm out of mind

When this nigga gone and missin (play the rules)

Wishin she mine, I'm knowin that she'll never be (never be)

This'll be fine, the closest that I'll ever be (ever be)

I see a chick and she mine, new Goldie of the ghetto B

Niggaz beepin my phone to ask me did I get her yet

[Chorus - to fade]

Livin Life As A Rider lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Denise Weeks)

[Verse 1: Jim Jones]

There was no love for us (nope)

So we did what we did just to make a buck played around we're fucking nuts (crazy)

Hope them ho's puckerup tryna get them to slide

Thats on our mind getting high all the time (we tryna fuck!)

We hustle hard, hope the fiends buy all the dimes

So we can scoop up and hit the party and scoop a bitch (get twisted)

You know the drill homie

Play the rules and play the field but don't get killed homie (stay alive)

So where's the better days?

The have to get up days to cheff up yay just to get us paid (we hustle hard)

You see never it fails most of my homies either dead or jail (gone)

Don't fuck with phonies cause they get you killed (ah ah)

My testimony's every bitter real (thats right)

Dont run up on me cause I'm gripping steel (bang bang)

I'm kinda nervous and I'm quick on the blast

due to the murders that I witnessed in town

[Chorus: Denise Weeks]

Livin the life with a rider seems

it's the only thing that I'm gonna run to

Thats when you light and get high with me

Look what the ghetto's did to me (Baby)

And when you finish running the streets

I'll be the only one that you gonna run to

Just getting paper and ducking police

Look what the ghetto did to me (uh)(yeah yeah)

[Verse 2: Jim Jones]

There was no peace in sight (nope)

It was sleepless night (yup)

Hustling yay breaking day to see the light (money man)

Street squalie you see polices lights (squalie)

As I polie on this decent price

Got a cuses that want some pies 23 a slice

Transactions by the building, uptown Harlem world, Manhattan where we kill them (Taz)

Plus my project way of thinking spending most my days drinking

It's like I'm on my way to sixton (lock in)

But we do what we do thats survival

And we move how we move thats through the rivals (fuck them enemies)

It's been said we living suicidal, it's like rush at eleven placing bucks on your bet

Do your thang slang cane and get your bucks on your steps (watch)

Watch ya ass young man they want you under arrest (thats them pigs)

And you ain't know, they getting stripes for that

They have you in your cell man serving life for that

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: Jim Jones]

Now for my project corners, go hard for warrants (fuck'em)

Every night I make it, I pray to God for goners (I pray to God)

We pour liquor on floors

That's for the soldiers that we lost in the mist of this war (RIP Life)

For the ones on the grind and front line they got called by po nine

And now they prisoners of war

They fight for appeal or a bill or a ball

Cause they slipped and got nailed for a sale of a rob (Zeek you know wassup)

Two shouts for O.B.C.C six main house of fame

When you come home come and see me

Stay cool I lay the rules on ya

Play the fool and they will move on ya

Young niggaz that keep them tools on ya

They quick to let them blickas blast (bang bang)

So crazy the way we get this cash (How we livin?)

Real hot up on these murderous blocks (blaatat blaatat)

Broad day bang bang I know you heard all them shots

[Outro: Denise Weeks]

Livin the life with a rider seems it's the only thing that I'm gonna run to

That's when you light and get high with me

Look what the ghetto's did to me (baby)

And when you finish runnin the streets

I'll be the only one that you gonna run to

Just getting paper and ducking police

Look what the ghetto did to me (yeah)

Look what the ghetto did to me

Look what the ghetto did to me

Look what the ghetto did to me (eh eh ehhh)

Look what the ghetto did to me

Look what the ghetto did to me

Look what the ghetto did to me (eh eh ehhh)

Twin Towers lyrics - Jim Jones

[Bizzy Bone "Chorus in background"]

Turn my vocals up.....turn my vocals up, turn'em, turn'em up, a little more

Turn'em up a little more, turn'em up a little, yeah there we go yeah, uh yeah

[Bizzy Bone]

Born in the poverty probably we never get off the monopoly, won't we just stop it

with all the monotony, look at me awkwardly hide my broccoli, nigga what

Fuck the media, how could you come to me, follow me, bother me, tell me to simmer it down

Part of the system is worser now, melody murder must've ran

What if the rapture happens, nigga just deeper than rapping vanish or not

Never gone change my style, I do what I wanna pop, 'til the "Body Rot" stop

Generation X, I am the mastermind, general militants seven times, revolution rebellious, totally out of line

I still in the mind of apocalyptic, biblical optimistic

Thank my lucky stars, never I say my graces, I'm so thankful god

Take me to the promise land, all I see is cops with guns

Soap in my sock, county charges stuck in the struggle with number one

Never will have a friend like me, reality checking the crooked judge

Man because the rapping is over, we fucking soldiers, we fucking thugs

And ain't nobody stopping my fucking drugs

If I can melt down the words, and put them in plastic sucks, rip it to the nation, let it go what, what

Bitch I would speak your mind, even if they offended you 'cous

Ride off in the sun set, with the streets niggas 'cause that's who I love

Standing next to Capo twin towers shoot up to the heaven sky

We rolling down the ninety-five, take the bridge, I'm ready to die..................

[Bizzy Bone]

For the grace of Capo... for the grace of Capo, in the moment of silence,

now the grace of Capo, in the moment of silence, in the mist of tyrants and silence,

and the demon malignancies, motherless children are born, poppa the one who murdered her,

witness the vision first hand plumping master of source of us

[Jim Jones]

By the, grace of Capo, in the moment of silence, in the mist of tyrants and violence,

I'm flossing my diamonds, by the grace of Capo, in he mist of the hood, and it should be all good,

But murders go down, you know they go down

[Jim Jones]

Straight out the projects b, I'm telling ya'll it was so hard for me (so hard)

Coming up hard in these Harlem streets, where niggas will starve, cause it's hard to eat

Some niggas will rob in the hardcore streets, ridiculous all it's hard concrete (watch it)

Bitches the boosters the credit card scammers, niggas that shoot cause they all gone blame us

People they shoot cause they cocky 'bout scanners (scwalay!)

So if watch where the birds fly, (watch it) don't speed when you swerve high

Cause believe me the third eye, put the squeeze on your whole ride (lock down)

See I'm always in the rear view, see the law in your rear view (what else) pray to the lord he can hear you (why)

I'm the nigga on the corner, plus my niggas on the corner bring same shit

Three carry gripes in the crime in heaven, I'm in this Fahrenheit called 9/11

When I go to the cross roads, lord knows Ferrari white, mean highway to heaven (forgive them lord)

And these digital times, we all need to have a political mind (that's right)

Federology, technology, and we can shine like astrology (they can see from the stars)

When we walking on eggshells, when you talk on next cells (what happens)

When you talking on fed cells (listen to me) and we all on sex cells (whooo)

When the drugs and rock-n-roll, and when the drugs lock your soul

Don't blame it on 'caine, got rich when the reggae came (that's right)

Bill Clinton rejuvenated us (yeah), all been the Bush's hoovernated us (stupid)

Police will soon be chasing us (that's right), the streets they be afraid of us (yeah)

From cutting up raw, from frying up coke, give a fuck about war

We ain't trying to voting (voting)

So if you draft me jail me (you hear that)

Or better yet kill me (uh-huh) 'cause I rather go to hell b, and there's nothing you can tell me

Cause we risking ourselves, just sit in the cell, over punk as nigga in cells (damn)

All the grief in the cells, spin on shelves, I'm running out of time, cause I'm living in hell (yeah)

[Jim Jones]

By the, grace of Capo in this moment of silence, in the mist of the violence, the mist of tyrants,

Flossing my diamonds......yeah, by the grace of Capos nigga, you heard, that's two strong armies nigga

Two under bosses we can't be stopped, we will not be brought down like the twin towers

We some political soldiers ghettolutionists, we freedom fighters

When Thugs Die lyrics - Jim Jones

[Jim Jones]

Got this problem with these niggaz on the other side of town

Plus my little homey Pop-la-di he's a rider now

So you know he want some answers off top he ridin down

With them automatic weapons, load and fire in the pound (bang bang)

Hood devestated, prayin that they let him make it

Heard it 'bout the incident, it's crazy how he just got faded (it's fucked up)

But it's better places, G's call it heaven's Matrix

Pray the Lord open up, they told me how heaven's gated (let a thug in)

Certified, decorated

Murder never hesitated, I heard it was premeditated (who told you that)

And my whole hood segregated

Harlem World's so small, but my whole ghetto dedicated (Eastside, Westside)

We was young, loose cannons

Shoot cannons, point aim, broad day, wherever you standin (fuck that do it now)

We live our life as a G

Day and, night with the heat, rollin dice on the street

Now come on

[Chorus 4X: Jim Jones]

Do doves fly, when thugs cry?

Here's a story 'bout the trials and tribulations of this thug life

[Jim Jones]

Now, play the game, know the code, say no names

Fast life ain't no game, R.I.P. Baby Main

He was large in the game, slingin thangs

Shiny rings, diamond chains, he's a star in my hood (he was ?)

All the cars, V12 by the hood

Had the jets, had the strip, had the power, he was livin that life

New whips every hour, it's a shame, in my hood

He'll be missed like the Towers in the midst of the prowess

Not to put his business out there (uh-huh)

But the kid'll make you think that Po Rich was out here (like '86)

And in these stories it mainly contain the lobby

About the young and the restless like Harlem's main {?}

[Chorus]

[Jim Jones]

We light and chill, each night we would chill

Block number, fifty-{?}-seven, movin white for them bills

Stashin open rice for it stales, I tried to tell you

That my life is so real, they dog me in and bring me home nine-trey

Took the city on my own crime raid (N.Y.C.)

Invadin clubs, with brazy bloods (tell 'em)

Tell Peter Geisha what's up, back to the saga, when Light got killed

It's like one side of my life is killed, for real

And Chills turned state fed, couldn't deal with a state bed

But snitchin breaks the code, gotta lie in your made bed (you know the rules)

No sympathy homey, you gotta follow them codes

You get a thousand years of die in that hole (G's up)

[Chorus]

This Is Gangsta lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Bezel & Juelz Santana)

[Juelz Santana]

Dipset bitch

Juelz Santana (yeah)

2004 its a brand new muthafuckin year

I hope you know that (you already know)

And we are in total control once a-muthafuckin-gain nigga (ook)

Dipset in the building

Juelz Santana, Jim Jones, Killa muthafuckin Cam, Freeky Zeeky

[Juelz Santana]

Live from the bottom of the pot where crack is cooked at

I'm back like cooked crack

and I rap like cooked crack

and dats a good match

and dats cum good crack

My gun hotter then the stove is on

So hot even I thought the stove was on

But the stove was off

I was just rolling hot

I was just rome the block

Hard body I'm a rolling block

Dodge squally, I don't know the cops

I don't know them rats

No, I don't condone in that

I'm in my zone infact, ain't no holing back

The 4'll mac when the beefin is on

Niggas cheat when its on

Niggas get reef wen its on

They cant believe when its on but its me wen its on (pooh)

But it is and this is what I do so

What it is, what is be, whats the sccop yo

Normally I don't ask that

Normally I just blast that but you an exception pussy

Ya girl told me you just obsessed with pussy and you cant fuck you just upset

the pussy

I'm sumthin mean to watch

my machine'll pop

life off ya halipino top

Now I've been seen in drop coops oops

Radar ditectors (poop poop)

You cant catch me copper

You just upset me copper

I'm on a jet ski copper (haha)

[Chorus - Juelz Santana 2x]

Now if this ain't gangsta and that ain't gangsta then what is gangsta

Nigga I am gangsta, who ain't gangsta, you ain't gangsta

[Jim Jones]

The truth is I'm what the games been needin

Food for thought, the fuck man you lames been eating (them lies)

I move, the streets do follow

I speed race, not through the streets (why) cuz police do follow

so watch em

These niggas throw flappy and sick (that's right)

We young cold flashy and rich

Plus we gun hoe and spz on a bitch

Cuz we don't pay for the pussy

The beef cum we don't lay for the pussy

Fuck em, Watch em, got em, spot em, pop em, drop em (lay em down)

Now Lord forgive us (pray for us)

Gangstas (say what) We all religious

And y'all wangstas I swear you give us the shivers

Dipset, the new black panthers

the boys ask us questions man we do not answer

Life's too short for me to pull my pants up

I'm tryna let my nuts hang, system out the truck bang bang

That's Certified Gangsta

You heard about me well then you heard about gangsta

Ill beat the brace off a nigga

but I'm tryna keep the tapes off a nigga

To get rich we do whatever we have to do

And when we hit the hood our bregins be grabbin you

Foul hundreds the 7th's Avenue

And niggas feel the pressure whenever we mashin through

[Chorus]

[Bezel]

You ain't gangsta, Listen up

I grip a pump, squeeze 3

and have any OG bitchin up

Man he a missing chump

And if not the big glock, our big shots so doc cant stith him up

I'm from the city wher its easy to make do

Easy to bake Hoes

its easy to make 4's

you gettin them pencils

the pigs and the checks know

nex week they'll have you sittin on stake road

From HOC to CF to CF

cant hold me I'm prone to this BS

So imagine Bez on the phone gettin key check

fresh outta DC lampin in the GS

That's how niggas do go get a clip or 2

fifth or glock, get a block, hit the spot, flip a few

And for a brick or 2

the led I carry, shit

I'm reditary, and ya kids could get it too

[Chorus]

Crunk Muzik lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Cam'Ron, Juelz Santana)

[Intro: Juelz Santana]

YEAH! AY! Dip-Set bitch! Come on...

Black-out, lets do it...

Dip, dip-set!

Dip, dip, dip, dip-s

Dip, dip, dip, dip-s

Dip, dip, dip, dip

[Verse 1: Juelz Santana]

Now this here is that bomb diggy (diggy)

Diggy dang, the dons with me

Killa, he'll a nigga you thinkin' bout harming me

Capo's corrupted (yop), he's wrong vato to fuck wit (yop)

Labeled and known as a young Pac to the public

And me, Human Crack in the flesh (flesh)

I'm the last of the best (best)

One word to describe me (what!), spectacular, YES!

So stay calm shorty, when you see that palmed .40 (.40?)

I'll pop it slow, you'll rock and roll, like Bon Jovi

So don't fool with the click (AY!)

Don't fool with the Dips (AY!)

You will die, you will lie in a pool full of shit (AY!)

When that gun with the clip in (what)

Start dumpin' and rippin' (yop)

At ya'll head, ya'll some dead summamabitches (AY!)

You give a chick hard dick and bubblegum (AY!)

I give a chick a hard brick and bubble-yum (AY!)

Like here, take that, shake that, break that (ay!)

In half and please bring my cake back

[Chorus: (Juelz Santana) {Jim Jones} (repeat 2x)]

(You kow what the movements like)

(You know how movin', right)

(Move, cause we in the mood to fight)

{This is that get crunk move bitch}

{Get drunk stupid}

{High like space, .45 on waist}

[Verse 2: Jim Jones]

This is that bang, bang, bang

To my hooligan, gang

While you movin' them thangs

And ya toolies go bang (silence)

Call me Richochet Rabbit

Cause I click and spray matics

And my niggas straight savage (Gonnies!)

Penelope pump let off six whole rounds (boom!)

'Fore (boom!) one (boom!) shell (boom!) hit (boom!) the (boom!) ground

In the hood he known as a Capo

To the goons and the heights its all tato (TATO!)

Ok I know me some vato

Live the life movin' on patos (demelo)

Ok muchacho, they told me that you got it paco (meda)

I know one movin' someone usually know gone pop you (te matan)

This that 9 double 1, with a 9 double m

If its crime lets have fun, lets have fun, lets have fun

This that o trizzy 1, triple o, whoa, whoa

If you scared get ya gun (get ya gun, get ya gun)

This that uptop crunk

When the truck stop, dump

This where the bucks stop chump (dump, dump, dump)

[Chorus: (Juelz Santana) {Jim Jones}]

(You know what the movemets like)

(You know how me movin', right)

(Move, cause we in the mood to fight)

{This is that get crunk move bitch}

{Get drunk stupid (Killa)}

{High like (Dip-Set) space, .45 on waist}

[Verse 3: Cam'ron]

That rooti, tooti, fruity, Louie, what I usually do (what's this?)

This that jump, stop, breathe, whoody-who

Gats in the truck

Platt, platt, pass to a duck

I'm the menace, owe me money, tat, tat, tat, what the fuck (You owe me

money muthafucka!?)

Ya'll reppin' that 5 still

I'm reppin' that 5 mill

Neverland, Thriller, Killa Cam, Jackson 5 bill (so what!)

Lets style a bit, Italian shit, 5 thou on fish

Show you how to get that powder shit

Filed the fifth, get out of it

I'm proud of it, its yo' turn, Jim so burned

Live bitch, why kiss, on my wrist a glowworm ($50,000)

And I keep heat, cause in these streets (what you hear?)

Just hear woop, woop, whant, whant, beep, beep (that's the cops)

And you rumble, never, me, hit a humble diva (a few of 'em)

And I stay with the white, I got Jungle Fever (nose candy)

So tell Lucccaay (what)

That her boobi's, loco, cookie monster, who he (who am I?)

I'm the 1 the rep the set

Left to left, death to death

You be yellow-taped, outlined, etch-a-sketched...

Killa

[Chorus: (Juelz Santana) {Jim Jones} (repeat 2x)]

(You kow what the movements like)

(You know how movin', right)

(Move, cause we in the mood to fight)

{This is that get crunk move bitch}

{Get drunk stupid}

{High like space, .45 on waist}

Bend N Stretch lyrics - Jim Jones

Blackout Music

[Chorus: Jim Jones]

Bend, Eastside could you stretch then bend

Westside could you stretch then bend

Southside could you stretch then bend

Midwest could you stretch then bend

N.Y.C. could you stretch then bend

M-I-A could you stretch then bend

A-T-L won't you stretch then bend

St. Louis won't you stretch then bend

[Jim Jones]

I guess you hear that I'm a live wire (say what)

Loose nigga and a 5 rider

Run with the city's biggest drug dealers (DipSet)

For you sissy rap fuck niggaz (fuck 'em)

Yeah we pistol packin, bust niggaz (bang bang)

Never worry 'bout the spotlight (nuh-uh)

This star nigga keep the glock tight (that's right)

That's for the jackers at the spotlight (watch 'em)

To live and die in the streets of New York

We gettin by, pumpin diesel and snort

I'm gettin high in the seats of my Porsche

Federales love to see me in court

And tell the Lord I hope you keep me in thought (pray for me)

But I'm a G, who gives a fuck what you think

And fuck the D's, roll my weed and fill my cup full of drink

You got some beef, then we gotta do it

You got some ki's, show you how to move it (uh-huh)

And four birds'll get a extra pigeon (what else)

And that's a bird with an extra clip in

We on the curb where my niggaz dealin

That's how my niggaz livin

[Chorus]

[Jim Jones]

So now we ballin in the major leagues

Yellow bottles and some hazy weed (Cristal)

Got some models with that Maybeline (so pretty)

Fancy rides, pushin major speeds (Westside)

Westside when we race the Beems (Eastside)

Break laws 'til the day I leave (no doubt)

Hardcore and a brazy G (Eastside)

Yo pull the bar when we makin cheese (Harlem)

"Harlem World," so "Double Up" (oh)

And all my girls still love a thug

A heartthrob and a wild rebel

I park cars through the foul ghetto (so what)

A rolling stone but I hold my own (then what)

These golden stones have you niggaz on press

I hold the chrome so you niggaz don't step (watch it)

You better party, do your bend and your stretch

And it's a promise, I ain't sendin no threats (I promise you)

Sheeit, DipSet, the new mob niggaz

No need to ask cause you know we on our job nigga

[Chorus]

[Jim Jones]

To all my bitches wearin thick incense (hey girl)

You know it tickles when you kiss my neck (stop that)

Them icicles on my wrist and neck (blingin)

Your wife wit you well don't disrespect (sup nigga)

Could be an issue, keep yo' bitch in check (fuck that bitch)

My thug aura make a bitch loose (uh-uh)

It ain't a party 'til the Dips do it (bird game)

Smokin reefer, screamin Eastside (purple)

Loaded heaters, that's how we ride (we ride)

All the time was my reply, I'm from the G-side (G-side)

Checkin for hotties that's sexy in {?}

Seven jeans and Giuseppes and Noti's, we ask at the party

You tryin to slide let me know somethin

Hop in the ride we can blow somethin (that purple)

Baby no lie I give you no stuntin (no frontin)

Duckin pictures from the paparazzi (watch the cameras)

Tuck your fifth up in my Maseratti (we loaded)

Shit, I park the whip in front of the project lobby

I keep it gully and the car all foggy, muh'fuckers just

[Chorus]

Talking To The World lyrics - Jim Jones

[Jim Jones]

I grew up in the 'jects, five inch what I press

Fry way to hold a tec, live bait I'm so brazy man

In them pissy staircases, we just sittin here

Waitin with them crystal clear cases tryin to make a sale

When that wreck came around, I'm in the trench with my pound

I'm pitchin you cracks and the bench is my mound (what's good)

It ain't no freezin this game, I'm in the freezin the rain

Tryin to make G's off the 'caine so I can freeze up a chain (Jacob!)

Or put the Spre's on the thang (spinners!)

So I can speed through the game (vroom!)

That's why I think kinda different, and some think that I'm twisted

Cause I smoke too much, and I drink 'til I'm twisted (I'm on point)

I'm tryin to maintain to stay afloat (that's right)

Cause that main game of shavin coke is goin down the tubes (that's a wrap)

That's why I'm downin booze, I stay surround by dudes

That chew down my food, bon appetit - chow time

[Jim Jones]

The purple, HAZE, keep scorchin and burnin

Nightmares at night I wake up in sweat, tossin and turnin (I can't sleep)

I'm light on my sleep, I can't get a wink, I might miss somethin

I think if I blink I might miss somethin (what happened what happened)

Constantly rollin up haze (uh-huh)

As I stomp through this block man they throwin up treys (Eastside)

We from the streets, know the struggle, know the hustle

Know the hook, know to cut it, know to double (know that price)

Now if you don't change your mind, change your grind

Don't get caught in the facade, don't get caught up on a charge

(Don't be facin six) You know that life goes by

Just as fast as them nights goes by

Hold fast, them blue and whites go by (SQUALIE!)

We movin white, whole pies

Hope to God that the law or the vice don't ride (SQUALIE!)

We been trapped in our own hustle

You see the government's the powder but the crack is our own hustle

We smart ain't we?

[Jim Jones]

Sheeit, the heat's in the kitchen, I speak to you listen

The beef if it thicken the heat'll stay clickin, believe that?

I'll be burnin water, while I turn the corners (uh-huh)

I'll be more than gone as {?}

R.I.P., man that's kind of redundant

Niggaz, dyin off dumb shit, bullets fly when the gun spit

Plus, man they ridin to dump clips (yes sir!)

In hooped up whips, the place miss and I scoop up with

the eighth in 'em, they shoot up shit and straight get 'em (boom)

They chew up shit like straight sick 'em (sick 'em)

Over that turf or strip, or that work the bricks

We'll squirt the shotty, and disperse your squad-dy (woo)

That's the code of my land

Over that blue and them grams, niggaz blowin your man (we gon' get 'em)

Get you all shot over hoes for a grand

Man, death is so cheap in my hood - short paper