My Diary lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Denise Weeks)
Pardon the Syzzrup...
[Jim Jones]
Now we try corners
Old folks try and warn us
The cops try and swarm us
Blocks hot like saunas
Well fuck it I'ma risk it
Got a bunt nigga twist it
Imma get drunk with my biscuit
5 cent cup, take a sip kid
Imma product of the p-jects
My teachers always told me that I'd prolly be a reject
I came up by my lonely now I'm a product of that D-Set
Two twelvin with my homie, he caught a homy of that d-wreck
He said it had him zonin' left the body in bulding three steps
The project now on fire every where you see the detects
His high is coming down cause now he's nervous smokin bogeys
And now he findin out that fuckin murder was his co-D
And this the shit that happens all too often up in Harlem
No shit you smell a rat you better off him whats the problem
In this business sellin crack we cook that raw shit up to hard shit
And tell my fellas that and to my coffin steady mobbin' to my coffin
steady mobbin'
[Chorus: Denise Weeks]
Take a look into my eyes and you'll see all the pain the ghetto brings
Take a journey through my soul and lets
roll through the streets of reality
They tell me slow down I'm livin' life fast See they don't all wanna
ride with me
I know it ain't right but this is my life
It's just a piece of my diary yeah
[Jim Jones]
Now, we ran wreckless, no grown-ups to guide us
So it's the man what you expect, I've grown-up to violence
I had my eye up on the pushers, the ones that stay fly
Fiends got high off the suga, you know that ain't riiight
That sweet cane, some got buried to the street game
My niggaz only worried bout the jewelry and the street fame
And what the bitches thought of them, it's all about the money
Well shit I cop some Porsche or trucks
'Member I was hungry, I was whippin in the Corsica
Hoopty muthafucka, hoppin the double four's
My pants droopy muthafuckas
And pardon my grammar, my nana died '95
So I done left my heart wit my grandma
I hid outside and played the park wit the hammer
And I'm watchin for the narcs, they movin cars with antennas
Thug and respect, for all my goons behind bars in the slammas
To my G's on rikers, to all my three time lifers
[Chorus]
[Bridge - 2X]
This is my life we die young cause we livin fast
So I'ma let you read my diary I'ma let you read my dairy
[Jim Jones]
Now lets ride (to where), to Harlem, the Westside
I show you blocks and murals, dawg where some of the best died
(Like who...like who?) Like Porter and them
I heard Po put the order on him, now that's more than a friend!
But he stitched of course, now let's talk about Fritz the boss
And he got rich off snort, they said 500 bricks was brought
So in hindsight, it's a shorty who couldn't get a gist of his thought
But if you grind right wit the snorpy, a whip could be bought
Now think about po-9, if it caught me, how it get you in court
But now the feds, they still tailin me, DA think he nailin me
I had to turn in the goons come and post the bail for me
Still in the Byrd Gang myself, you say Byrd Gang is wealth
And all the liquor stores, man the Syzzurp on the shelf
I rose from the dump you see, now it's Dipset, Byrd Gang the company
[Chorus]
[Bridge 2X]
Zeke (Interlude) lyrics - Jim Jones
Jim, Jim, Fucks up nigga nawmean, the beat all good you feel me, Doin Me as Usual man, good looking for that glock, but you know its glock time again, Set that out for your boy, You Smell me? Fuckin Niggas Man, I'm sick of all these piss ant niggaz up in here, got me hot like lava in this motha fucka, Bout to slap slob out one of these faggets that keep fuckin with me, word is born, got all these coward ass niggaz sweatin like it aint no A/C in this motha fucka, Fuckin With me Freekey, Any motha fuckin way man, I aint even really wanna holla at you about that bullshit, I really wanna talk about that phantom shit you was talking bout, that shit aint me son, word is born im too gangsta for that shit, want no motha fuckin phantom, nawmean, I need some low key inexpensive shit, you know wut I sayin, Cop the boy a lil Ashton Martin or something, Black on Black with the black tint, you know what im sayin, The Rims, let me see, put my face on them rims, You know what im sayin that's how I like to do it you know what im sayin. Have all these bitches connected to my dick like nuts. You know what im sayin, Its ya boy man, doin what he does best, Fuck wit you hard, You know what im sayin. I Fucked With You Hard Nigga, You Know What Im Sayin, Get At me
G's Up lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Max B)
[Chorus:]
G's up nigga, ho's down
If the bitch can't swim she gon'drown
Runnin the streets totin' the 4 pound
U didn't know we was them niggas, the nigga u know now (dipset)
[2x]
[MAx B:]
I had to fade 'm into black
Hit 'm with the crossover made 'm jump back
And before all that
I used to make 'm pump crack
Ridin'shotgun in the ?? slum back
Max leave the streets, please the don't want that
They need me in the shit
The .40 cals is mine, the nina's we could split
Cock back, squeeze off, started feedin 'm with the 5th
And u couldn't really hide, cause i seen that nigga trip
U ain't seen a nigga flip
Untill they bank 50 g's and u feed a nigga shrimps
39, 40 and u feed a nigga strips
Beat the nigga bitch,
Till she bleedin from the lips...yeah
Got me speedin in the six
Drunk off the hen, breezin in the mist
Chicks believin in the dick, dick
Feenin'for a sniff
Got me needin for a spliff
Ain't a thing funny, when u fucking with this money
I'ma lean u off a cliff.....g's up
[CHORUS]
[Jim Jones:]
The picture gettin clearer
If it was bricks than the strip we had to tear it up
If it's beef, the .45th we had to gear
Lookin at my life through this rear viewer mirror
Burnin in the pike in this brand new Carrera
The game funny, mo' money it's gets weirder
My gang hungry, no money that we scared off
And do us both a favor my nigga, and don't compare us
We still loosin soldiers at this war
Like every other week i'm pourin cold drinks at the floor
We just lost iky, he was going to the store
That's why i roll around the fully loaded in the door
Majority time, i'm tryna stay above the poverty line
And that's a major part of my grind
I still hit the hood and park my car in the nine
While the little niggas pump hard with dimes
[CHORUS]
[J:]
The say succes is like amen (pray for me)
U see police will arrest us while we rollin'
We stay on heat so if u press we ain't foldin
U see me in the streets so there ain't no question bout ??
[M:]
We pimpin easy
Niggas hate, come teach me
The niggas with the big cake they couldn't reach me (I KNOW)
Now when they see us, they kick game, everything all peachy
Snitch niggas put 'm beneath me, believe me
[J:]
Fuck 'em i can't let them break me
A ?? and a man is what it makes me
I rather ride in the lambo's and the AC
Top down, stoppin for nothing, coming through frollin'
[M:]
I tryna to be, one of these niggas that do it for nuttin
I got a passion for this shit cause i love it
Like a piece of pussy when i'm fuckin, waitin to come
Runnin the streets at lennox ave, waving the gun
[CHORUS]
[Jones talkin' until end]
J.I.M.M.Y. lyrics - Jim Jones
[altered voice (Jim Jones)]
(Jimmy) Capo. . .whats my mothafuckin name?. . .Dipset. . .(Jimmy) Eastside (Jimmy) Cool chris. . .Say what. . .(Jimmy)
Ugh...Whats my mothafuckin name? (Jimmy) Dipset Dipset (Jimmy, Jimmy jones) Byrd gang. . .
[Chorus]
Catch that boy capo (uh), cruisin up 8th wit the top blowin and caps low (roll out!)
I'm a Dipset boss, you don't wanna get clapped, get caught up in the cross (tch no)
and I'm caught in the floss, chain 500 hundred thou cause i'm caught up in the gloss (ballin!)
and im caught up in the cause, i'm a winner i aint tryin to get caught up wit a loss (no way)
Now, when the hell will it stop (never)
i keep evadin the law, gettin tailed by the cops (fuck em)
i keep breakin the law, got a bail on spot (fuck em)
and you can't cool me off, try to tell you i'm hot (sizzlin!)
goin hard since 16, livin that fast life like i majored the big screen (nice he can rap)
y'all kno how i get in the club, them nigga knew them bouncas fo' i flip in the club (and then what?)
im tryin to 2 step fo' i flip Cam bud, so i'm posted in the back while im twistin up bud (hey)
got some hoes in the back, and they sippin on suds, blowin smoke on the dough, poppin crys' wit tha thugs, shit...(now come over here...)
ima boss i said, a dipset gangsta i dont cross my legs (what else?)
G's up, eastside, code red
be frontin, we probly blow lead
[Chorus]
what they gon do wit tha capo (nothin!)
got a hardbody clique, gotta that'll shoot for the capo (thas right!)
when i drive by the strip, they salutin the capo (eastside)
keep 1 fly bitch up in the coup wit tha capo (you know!)
nowadays all the babes think im cute and im macho (say what?)
my otha half must think im souped cuz i gato (fuck em!)
or maybe its because i keep my pants off my ass (kiss)
i am my own boss i only hear is the cash (ya hear that?)
i only fear the law so fuck a man wit a badge (fuck the police!)
and im tryin to duck the law dog from gettin indicted
and they show me the money shit the kid got excited
so if the kid get a inch, well im takin a yard
and if the kid do ya bitch, well im takin ya yard
(thats right, for life nigga)
thats to the day that im charged, we be leavin out the club
my crew racin the cars. . .who got ya neighborhood paused
[Chorus]
i done ran through most clubs that they had in my city (what else?)
while dancin in the spot, while my hamma gettin pissy (click clack)
one hand up on the bitch, otha hand on my blicky (thats gangsta)
i kick my G mac, try and slip her a mickey (this niggas sly tonight!)
lord help the boy that try and get me (what else?)
always pull me ova, they be dyin to frisk me (fuck em)
car smell like weed and ive been drinkin the liqour (ALWAYS)
told me i was speedin, plus he see im a nigga (you just mad at meee)
it got him even more bitter (what else?) i said im from a hood where police get hit up (get up)
lets not make it a issue, but if a nigga piss me off, im goin straight to the pistol (thats fo sho)
shit, but we can make it official, next time you see yo momma be awake when she kiss you (my baaaaby)
im just tryin to get some paper (hoo!), ha, aint no boy or a nigga. . .
What Is This lyrics - Jim Jones
[Jim Jones:]
What is this, that gangsta gangsta lets get back to business
you gotta kill 'em dead so they dont ask the witness
no questions on the stand is there especially to the BLAM
yeah, I let 'em talk to the stainless
if it's beef lets keep it G we don't talk wit disclaimers
we say names we ain't playin we leave ya corpse on the pavement
and I ain't hard to find I'm in New York like the Rangers
my team, what, we all are nice
we pack guns and go to clubs and we ball all night
crack sales in the slums break the law all night
so the glock stay stashed up it's cops tryin to harass us
these pretty cars seem to grab they attention
they know these pretty cars cost more cash than they pinchen
plus the city's ours plus I'm back with a vision
DipSet in this bitch you know I'm a menace, nigga
[Hook:]
It's uhhh
what is this
DipSet
what is this
byrd game
what is this
that certified G lets get back to business
say what say what say what
you heard me
say what say what say what
you heard me
say what say what say what
you heard me
man get a set of wings so you can fly wit the birdies
Harlem,(Harlem) across the 1-1-0, (thou-hundred)
where it all seems to rain and the sun dont show, (sun don't shine)
as long as it's white caine oh you know we gon blow, (get money)
shit these dice games we bet lump sums on roll, (can't stop)
wear white tees but the guns don't show, (got it on me)
and my advice where I'm from dont go, (be careful)
and we all love this life but we must follow codes, (follow that code)
it's a sequel society all we ask, trust
police keep on eyein' me now thats fucked up, (fuck 'em)
enemies know the deal we will clap shit up, (what's good)
we hit niggaz with heaters
watch the morgue come and get 'em put them niggaz in freezers, (them black
ziplock bags)
shit, he bit off more than he could chew, (no homo)
he did what he could but that was more than he could do, (stupid)
DipSet, shit we more than just a crew, (power)
we thick up in the hood, all aboard we on the move, (eastside)
now y'all expect us to stop, (nope)
I just cost 3 mill. of them records off Koch, (I'm still sellin')
what you can expect, expect for a drop, (watch this)
[?] bubble back with the sky as my ceiling
[Hook]
Nigga I'm laughin' now I'm shoppin' on Madison, (why?)
just was in a hustle fiends was coppin of Madison, (nicks and dimes)
thats uptown though I was posted on 5th ave, (pollo)
12th street movin' all the poker that Rich had, (hustler)
I'm 17 I was bumpin' up mixed slabs
word, me I stashed every pack in this bitch lab, (stupid bitch)
I should've told her now the shit where ya kids at, (dummy)
don't get high on your own supply, (ya hear that)
it's the rules in life that we must apply,(well name a couple of them)
well we must get fly
through this concrete jungle big chunks wit tribes, (shoutouts to the homeys)
blow my fairy side
Honey Dip lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Hell Rell, Juelz, Latiff)
[Chorus: Latiff]
When I'm dippin on the grind I get my money quick
But sometimes I wanna lay up wit my honey dip
She be wit me cause she aint like all them other chicks
Let you hit, then she split, that's why I got a honey dip
From the club to the telly you know how it is
Most of the chicks I never tell em where a nigga live
Tryna reach me at my mansion or my mother crib
Hit my cell, hit my two, now I'm at my honey dips
[Verse 1: Jim Jones]
Yo we talked about 8, said I was comin thru to hit
Now its wee hours in the mornin and I'm drunker than a bitch
Stumblin and shit, I jumped up in the whip
Flipped open the horn like where's my honey dip
And bitch fuck ya man tonite, you know my steelo
Sizzurp wit the Cristal, the corners playin cee-lo
You see me well you jus smile you know we on the le-low
I'm whippin thru the town like we boilin up a kilo
Huh, I'm tryna dip up in the tele
Dip up in the room, then dip up in her belly
Dip off on Pirelli's, Dip-Sets Fonzarelli
My white t-shirt, lookin dip up in my Pelle
Smokin weed up in the Range
Full speed left lane
Its me against the world, M.O.B. up in my vein
Wit another nigga girl, gettin low to give me brain
If the bitch about the cause you aint gotta spit no game
[Chorus]
[Verse 2: Jr Writer]
You know I'm lookin for a honey dip
But I'm no dummy, most these bunnies
are money hungry and lookin for a money clip
So after the brother hit
I'll tell a honey dip
She won't see a contact, address nor buddy list
I aint on some hubby shit
That lovey dovey shit its nuttin trick I'm suttin slick you couldn't get
enough of it
How a slugger jus slide up thru the check in
Wit that linin on the Wesson
Hundred diamonds on my neck and wrist shit
I'm rich bitch, rhymings my profession
Watch how I do this stupid grindin and perfectin
Who's flyer when I step in got em spyin every second, cause that 06
Charger remind em of a 7
Yes man I'm so fresh the pro mess wit bread honey
My jeans 800, these are called Red Munkey
The flossin is gone, come talk to a Don fly enough to belong on a
catwalk in Mulan.....holla
[Chorus]
[Verse 3: Juelz Santana]
I got me a lovely chick, I got me a slutty chick, I got em all, but my
favorite one is my honey dip
She get drunk wit me, roll the piff up wit me
Throw singles at other hoes in the strip club wit me
She do anything for jus one quicky
She a nympho chick
For this slow dick
She give no lip, she jus go get
The paper I ask her for, my bitch so quick
Plus she know every Santana song and she don't mind puttin the damn bandana on
Slap her ass tell her dance in this thong
She do it all for daddy
She move it all for daddy...Aye Aye
She get a brick and she boof it all for daddy
Hit the road shake the State Troopers off for daddy
And she bring all that paper back
No short paper back, she sure don't play wit that
[Chorus]
Ride Wit' Me lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Juelz Santana)
[Juelz Santana]
Uh huh, Dipset Bitch..
Yeah... you know?
Yeh yeh, yeah, okay
[Hook - Juelz]
Niggaz come along would you ride wit me? (Go, come on)
Bitches come along would you ride with me? (Go, come on)
People come along would you ride wit me? (Go, come on)
Ride wit me, Ride wit me, Ride wit me..(C'mon)
Niggaz come along would you ride wit me? (Go, come on)
Bitches come along would you ride wit me? (Go, come on)
People come along would you ride wit me? (Go, come on)
Ride wit me, Ride wit me, Ride wit me..(C'mon)
[Juelz Santana]
I'm overdosin again, I'm oversmokin again
That potent smoke I'm smokin is comatose in my wind
And I only know a few friends that's oh so loco to man (C'Mon)
They will C4 the whole Volvo you in
And ladies let me zoom, zoom
All through your poon, poon
And this will be Santana's boom boom Boom Room (Yup)
I'm a new breed or what y'all call true G's
I'ma start to make you fleas, start to salute me (Come On)
Swim fish I'm a shark in this blue sea
Hungry, I swam from Antartica's blue sea (Whoa)
Override the pressure for coke I buy compressors
Oversize the stretcher 'til it's oversized then sell it
Oversize the shellin to oversize the swellin
Overpop the led in to oversize his melon (Go, Come On)
That's what you call overshot you get it?
I'm over hot you get it? Like coke in pots you get it?
[Hook]
Niggaz come along would you ride wit me? (Go, come on)
Bitches come along would you ride with me? (Go, come on)
People come along would you ride wit me? (Go, come on)
Ride wit me, Ride wit me, Ride wit me..(C'mon)
Niggaz come along would you ride wit me? (Go, come on)
Bitches come along would you ride wit me? (Go, come on)
People come along would you ride wit me? (Go, come on)
Ride wit me, Ride wit me, Ride wit me..(C'mon)
[Jim Jones]
Your ride ain't safe (Warning) As I flyin up 8th (Warning)
Gettin high like space (Warning) .45 on waaiiisssst ('Jects, nigga!)
We don't need to see no badge
Cause we racin up on this highway
Speedin like we gon' craaaash (Fuck Police)
Let's go sightseein, but this cold night scene
Got my homey shot dead, he was only 19 (19! RIP)
They blew his brains off his shoulders
That petty money over slangin them boulders (Continues everyday)
Pumpin grams off the stoop (Uh-huh)
Cold nights, sold white
Duckin a van full of spooks (Watch the squalies)
Hundred gram on them coupes
Blow Dice, rolled dice
Underhand to the deuce (Life's a gamble)
I done spent some days
In the midst of the 'Jects
Gettin bent some days (Twisted, backwards)
With my trip, below set
Runnin up on you niggaz cause that rent had to be paid (That's right)
[Hook - short version]
Niggaz come along would you ride wit me? (Go, come on)
Bitches come along would you ride with me? (Go, come on)
People come along would you ride wit me? (Go, come on)
Ride wit me, Ride wit me, Ride wit me.. (C'mon)
Penitentiary Chances lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Hell Rell)
[Intro: Jim Jones]
Rell fresh home
How it feel to back where the bricks my nigga
Ya heard, I got the D.A. on my ass right now
All my soldiers behind the G Wall
Inhale, exhale... fuck the police
[Verse 1: Hell Rell]
I'm up early on the strip while the birds chirpin
I had to turn my fone off too many birds chirpin
Damn my homies gotta sit in the bing
So for them, I flood my chain and piss in my ring
Yea, shit on these niggaz 'til I sit wit the Lord
I woulda been home last year but I got hit at the board, nigga
Yea you spotted man, now you red dotted man
You fuckin wit Hell Rell, New York City's rider man
[Bridge: Jim Jones]
Now is these niggaz some killers like us
No
They say the real, well they realer than us
No, no, no
Is my set good
Yes
Is my bet good
Yes
Is my threat good
Yes, yes, yes
[Verse 2: Jim Jones]
Since you've been home they done indicted ya boy
Due to the circumstances of this life we enjoy
Niggaz start snitchin they Sammy the Bullin
Til my niggaz start grippin these hammers and pull 'em
That's when these niggaz start switchin turnin Islamic and Muslim
Cause they seein my position is straight savage and hoodlums
Shit, who suffered and lost, my new truck is a Porsche
This is One-Eye Willie and I'm from fuckin New York
[Chorus: Jim Jones]
Who them niggaz paintin the town red
Dip-Set
Banks stop and we lay down bets
Byrd-Gang
Who them niggaz gettin that money man
Dip-Set, Dip-Set, Dip-Set, Dip-Set, Dip-Set
Who them niggaz leave wit ya bitch nigga
Byrd-Gang
Who them niggaz squeezin at bitch niggaz
Dip-Set
Who them niggaz that gotta get rich nigga
Byrd-Gang, Byrd-Gang, Byrd-Gang, Byrd-Gang, Byrd-Gang
[Bridge 2: Jim Jones]
Now do these niggaz be bangin like me
No
They say they G is they gangstas like me
No, no, no
Is my guns good
Yes
Is my ones good
Yes
Do we run hoods
Yes, yes, yes
[Verse 3: Jim Jones]
My pistol game been tight
Since chicken lo mein and rice
Tryna get that paper, flippin that caine for a price
Fiends goin crazy, hittin that caine thru the pipe
Niggaz that bang to the right
I'm jus sayin this is life
So we adore and survive
Cause thru this war we gon ride wit two 4'z on our side
Shit, man I'm riskin it all
Cause for this love and this money man, I jus wanna ball
[Chorus: Jim Jones]
Who them niggaz paintin the town red
Dip-Set
Banks stop and we lay down bets
Byrd-Gang
Who them niggaz gettin that money man
Dip-Set, Dip-Set, Dip-Set, Dip-Set, Dip-Set
Who them niggaz leave wit ya bitch nigga
Byrd-Gang
Who them niggaz squeezin at bitch niggaz
Dip-Set
Who them niggaz that gotta get rich nigga
Byrd-Gang, Byrd-Gang, Byrd-Gang, Byrd-Gang, Byrd-Gang
[Verse 4: Hell Rell]
These niggaz want me to slow down and switch my speed
And these bitches pokin holes in the condom tryna get my seed
Leave me alone lemme twist my weed
Two things I never seen a U.F.O. and a bitch I need
The beamer shinin on B.B.'z, niggaz tryin to be me
You gangsta on the streets dawg, north signin to P.C
These niggaz washed up callin it quits
It don't matter, Porsche to 6, they be all my dick
I, slaughter the strip wit a quarter a brick
I got Florida chicks comin to N.Y. for the dick
I only been home for a month but I'm still fresh y'all
Up in this booth and still smellin like the mess hall
[Bridge: Hell Rell then Jim Jones]
Now is these niggaz more liver than me
No
He kinda hot but is he spittin more fire than me
No, no, no, no
Is my dope good
Yes
Is my coke good
Yes
Am I so hood
Yes, yes, yes, yes
Now is these niggaz some killas like us
No
They say the real, well they realer than us
No, no, no
Is my set good
Yes
Is my bet good
Yes
Is my threat good
Yes, yes, yes
We Just Ballin lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. T.K.)
I wear a mean dark pair of shades
Aint you cant see my eyes unless my head is bent , you dig
[Chrous:]
[Jim Jones:]
We fly high, No Lie ,You know this (BALLIN!)
Foreign rides, outside, its like showbiz (We in the building)
[Girl:]
We stay fly, No Lie ,You know this (BALLIN!)
Hips and Thighs, Oh my, Stay focus
[Jim Jones:]
Ya boy gettin paper (Money), I buy big cars (Foreign)
I need fly rides to drive in my garage (Choose 1)
Stay sky high (Twisted), Fly wit the stars (Twinkle ,Twinkle)
T 4 ? Flights , 80 grand large (BALLIN!)
So we lean with it, pop with it (Bankhead)
'Vertible jones, mean with the top listen (Flossin)
I'm sayin clean with the bottom ?(Do It)
I Hop'd out saggy jeans and my rock glistenin(BALLIN!)
But I spent bout 8 grand
Mami on stage doin the rain dance (I think she like me)
She let it hit the floor, made it pop (What Else !?)
Got my pedal to the floor screamin fuck the cops(Do It!)
[Chrous:]
[Jim Jones:]
We fly high, No Lie ,You know this (BALLIN!)
Foreign rides, outside, its like showbiz
[Girl:]
We fly high, No Lie ,You know this (BALLIN!)
Hips and Thighs, Oh my, Stay focus
Slow Down, Tonight may be gone tommorow (One Chance!)
So I speed thu life like theres no tommorow (Speedin!)
100 g's worth of ice on the Auto? (Flossy)
And we in the street life until they call the law(BALLIN!)
I made the whip get naked (What Happen !?)
While I switch gears, Bitch lookin at the bracelet (Got Em)
Step out, show me what your all about
Flashbacks of last night of me ballin out (Harlem!)
1 a.m. we was at the club (What Happen !?)
2 a.m. Ten bottles of bub (Money ain't a thing)
And about 3 somethin I was thinkin about grub
So I stumbled to the car, threw the drinks and the drugs (Twisted)
[Chrous:]
[Jim Jones:]
We fly high, No Lie ,You know this (BALLIN!)
Foreign rides, outside, its like showbiz
[Girl:]
We stay fly, No Lie ,You know this
Hips and Thighs, Oh my, Stay focus
Nigga could you buy that
I keep 20 in the pocket (Light Change)
Talk a buck 80 If the bentley is the topic (That grey poupon)
But of course gotta fly ...? (Where?)
To the hood to roll dice on the side of the curb
But I know a G Bent' may sound obsurd (Get Your Money Up)
Drive 80 up Lennox cause I got an urge (Speedin)
The rap game like the crack game
Lifestyles, rich and famous livin in the fast lane (BALLIN!)
So when i bleep shorty bleep back
Lou Vutton Belt where im keep all the heat strapped
I beat the trial over rucker (Lets Do It)
All guns loaded in the back motherfucker (Dipset)
[Chrous:]
[Jim Jones:]
We fly high, No Lie ,You know this (BALLIN!)
Foreign rides, outside, its like showbiz (We in the building) [2x]
[Girl:]
We stay fly, No Lie ,You know this (BALLIN!)
Hips and Thighs, Oh my, Stay focus
You niggas need to stay focus
When your dealin with a motherfuckin G
You know my name, Jones, One Eye, Capo Status
Only above motherfucka
This Dipset ByrdGang We Born To Fly
Ya'll know the rules fall back or fall back
Someone tell my bitch summer I'm lookin for her
Ya dig, Another day another dollar
Fast life fucker
What You Been Drankin On? lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. P. Diddy, Paul Wall, Jha' Jha)
[P. Diddy Talkin' Intro]
Dipset motherfuckers
Jha Jha, Jim Jones, Paul Wall... they call me Diddy
You all motherfuckers must have lost your mind
AH!!!!
[Hook - Jha Jha]
[2x]
What you been drinking on
What you been sippin on
What got you bumpin in the funk wit all that gator on
[1x]
'cause you ain't drunk hoe
you ain't drunk hoe
you ain't riding you ain't live you ain't drunk hoe
[Verse 1 - Jha Jha]
I was up in the club vibing, sipping on sizzurp vibing
Getting a little flow for my man wanna just slow to the jams these girls wanna start wylin
They got to start tripping, they got the crowd listening,
you know the type wanna get into a fight when it's light them chicks just need attention
They playing "Get from Round", I'm saying get from round me
If you spill that drink on my brand new mink I'm gonna split every bitch that's around me
We can buck if you want to
I'm the type that'll give you what you want boo
You all chicks can't stand me
I bet a bunch of Gees, just wait 'til I bust to the roof
[Hook - P. Diddy]
[1x]
'cause you ain't drunk nigga
you ain't drunk nigga
'til that sizzurp and henny is in your cup nigga
[1x]
What you been sipping on?
What you been hitting on?
you see them chicks in Bakinies we're spilling Chrisses on
[Verse 2 - P. Diddy]
(Call me Diddy) Let's ride that out
Stop that talk outside your mouth
I'll put guys outside your house
We're the hottest in the south
Badboy, Dipset
Baby girl, get your lips wet
Maybach like that shoffa
Money ain't to far from Oprah's
you should've seen what I paid my shoffer
It's enough to buy you a Roadster
This toaster, supposed to, take you on a rollercoaster
you ain't popping like Diddy baby, I'm rocking witg Diddy baby
The Drops is terrific kid, the watches cost 80 motherfucker...
[Hook - Jim Jones]
[1x]
What you been drinking on
Who you been smocking with
What got you acting all silly doing stupid shit
[1x]
'cause you ain't drunk nigga
you little fuck nigga
you ain't bad, you're a fagg, you ain't tough nigga
[Verse 3 - Jim Jones]
You all know the deal,
Long John shirt don't show the steel
Ski mask when we're gone to kill
We blast and you know we will
We don't mash just olds-mobiles
Ride to your block slow as hell
Look for you fucks than unload the shells,
A nigga get caught than please post bail
Eastside to my homies in jail
Know how it be that lonely S.L.
Full of turf that smokey S.L.
you cooking it than you going to hell
I'm with a bitch in the front seat holding the steal
Doc, I'm so for real
Move the candy ring to get the candycane,
For them pretty Range Rova wheels
[Hook - Paul Wall]
[1x]
What you been sippin on?
Whats in that white cup?
It's that promethazine, codeine, not purple tub!
[1x]
'cause you ain't leaning bitch
you ain't codieneing bitch
That cup and money, you ain't high, you ain't sleepy bitch
[Verse 3 - Paul Wall]
Cock the 4, pour the deuce
Mix the sprite made a juice
Prepare to lean off that codeine
Prescription cough syrup gets me loose
White cup that's full of that oil
Texas T we call it drank
Sitting sideways on them 4's lavish dripping wet candy paint
Who's the man, who's the G
Houston, Texas and 7 1 3
I'm on the block that we call south-lee
Sipping oil with the thugs and G's
Paul Wall what you know about me
I'm on the grind and I'm slanging leash
When I mix the sprite wit this sizzurp I'll show you how to make a sprite remix
[Music Fades As P. Diddy talking......]
Dipset, BadBoy, Jim Jones, Jah Jah, Paul Wall...
They call me diddy!... Harlem "stand up"
Dirty South "stand up", "Midwest stand up"
Westcoast "stand up"... Yeah... (come on, come on)
[fades out....]
Harlem lyrics - Jim Jones
[Chorus: repeat 2X]
7th Lennox and what about the east side
El Barrio we blowin' smoke while we G ride
Washington Heights dime lo tato you know
Todo bien tato capo uh oh
[Jim Jones]
Shot out to Taft where them killas is made
We was out on the Ave. young dealin' that gay
Tryin' to get cash pumpin' crills to get payed
Alcohol in my glass blunt filled up with haze
We congregated infront them grocery stores
Sellin' crack held gats and conversate while we smoked the raw
And sit on crates like they lay-z boys
The strip we wait like the 80's boy
And whip up 8th in the latest toy
Like it's the only thing to do
You know the house parties you had to bring your crew
And you know we stay fly Pelle leather with the boots
And niggaz shake the dice and call you bet out 'fore you shoot
You lookin' scared money fall better to the deuce
We would set up on the stoop
Gettin' wet up on the stoop
And watch the dust fiends gettin' wet up off the juice
Tryin' to get up off that loot
So we could get up on the coupes
[Chorus]
[Jim Jones]
I wish Harlem Lee was still around
You know the jam packed traffic buggin out infront of Willie's Lounge
I been doing this since Nucleus was open
Coppin' they black well who knew what we was smokin'
Took a few pulls had you movin' slow motion
Walkin' pass the Carter now it's pokie still smokin'
And I could still picture the sports bar
Niggaz think they hot shit whippin' up in the sports car
State bulding jams
Remember Farraqan had that fake million man
Copped the fly jackets from Carlos at the mall
Or be in King Domes poppin' bottles in the park
Don't play on 40th cause they'll rob you after dark
Wolf pack gang don't jog central park
F.T.W fuck the world
Drinkin 40's got us fucked up till we earl
In this hustlers world
[Chorus]
[Jim Jones]
Somebody tell Cuda let me in this cherry lounge
This ain't Queens homie you surrounded by deadly grounds
And I was downtown just watchin' the caine flip
Heard a nigga from the west side was fuckin' my same bitch
But them bitches didn't care
Just tryin to get some cash buy some sneakers fix they hair
Ride up Lennox Ave. you smell the reffer in the air
3rd Ave. viva Puerto Rico the boricua fair
African parade every year the whole block is there
You want raw yay Broadway you go cop it there
Shit, and we can cruise autobahn
Go buy the rawest chron
Or around the clock baby even 4 in the morn'
The summer time we still illin' on them, God They clear the whole 7th
poppin' wheelies on them squads
Terror Squad still got the hottest team in the Rucker
Look real close you can see it from the brucker
[Chorus]
Confront Ya Babe lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Cardan, Max B)
[Max B]
I gotta see how that thing sound but I got it
I'ma come right in wit it Dipset, uh
[Chorus: repeat 2x]
If theres a need to confront ya babe
I'll let the nina come punch ya babe (DIPSET!!)
Fur beavers big blunts and things
Byrd Gang Byrd Gang (OW!)
[Verse 1: Max B]
Nigga I'll leave you bleedin on ya door slot
Max B look like Derek Jeter on the short stop (uh)
I'll put the heater to ya soft spot
Waive the nina and make ya adiddas do the short stop (uh)
You don't want it wit me b
Dickie under the snorkel heat and the mean v
Bend ya main bitches over give'em the wee wee
Big gun up close in ya face 3-D (uh)
I'll put the thing near ya ear Let it bang near ya ear
Fivic grand crew haters linger in the air
Clothes fit right like the finger in ya beer
Last week hit anger in the rear
Jim came threw he gave me the chain and couple of 'guettes in my ear
Now the bird swingin off the thermo
Tre pound tucked bitch I don't give a fuck bitch
[Chorus]
[Verse 2: Jim Jones]
Shit I treats this game like it's 88
Nauti' sweats no socks hopped out the range wit the paper plates
Hopped on the plane wit the bathing apes
Hopped off the plane ta see the hatian face so pound nigga (sa pa say!)
We gangsta rappin gettin dough from this violence (east side!)
I'm talkin G4's blowin haze smoke from the piolet (purple!)
I chartered that flight cause it was lookin kinda rainy
Now i'm known ta bring the goons out like that nigga John Chaney (Goonies!)
Or catch me up on the hill in the whip doing 80 (Dimelo!)
Till the police pulled me over and the whip smelled all hazy
What you know about that cash get you thrown up in the trash
I'll put a gun up in ya mouth and have you blow it out yo ass
Blunt up in my mouth blowin out the grass
show you how to stunt, pockets loaded wit the cash
show you how to dump semi loaded ready ta blast
I'll roll up on you chumps I got this whole shit in a smash
[Chorus]
[Verse 3: Cardan]
Yo Now when I'm crusin threw harlem I get my bunky charn on
Gotta dunny dunk broad wit a dunky dunk car
I get all that chronic straight from them honky tonk guys
You junior muthafuckas I'm donkey don kong
I just left Jacob and he got me chunky on arm
now I'm on my way to go smoke a dunky don bong
I brought DA BAND out and I ain't talkin puffy sean combs
Dem drums turn into guns goin brrrrump ba bump bump
Now ya mind out ya body
You wonder I got nine in the party I was high in it prolly
Doggy, I put the kam in the kazi you need it pa
Holla I might go guide you, poppy its the guy
Call me cardan tho
been passed dem, bust, if, aint
We ain't wit the village fags nah we on lennox ave
you mad, go get ya dad you fag, you fit for drag
and that nina'll bump you, or if it's a need I confront you fucker
[Chorus - 2X]
Summer Wit' Miami lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Trey Songz)
[Jim Jones Talking]
See rap music is subliminal
But the music for us is like our own diary
Something like a confession
They tell me 'life is a bitch'
She's something like the seasons, just like mother nature
She comes and goes as she please
That's why they get their period once a month
I say that to say this
If you think that bitch
Summer is yours
She could be cheating on you
Ya heard
[Verse 1 (Jim Jones)]
Got me feeling like opium
I'm tryna dance with the loaded M
Open a bottle and it goes around
I'm leaving drunk by 4 am
And watch me jump in a dolce benz
Top down with the pokey rims
And now i'm swerving so you know i'm bent
I lost count so who knows what I spent
I recall nine {?}
Bitches stepping on my nice sneakers with
One hand in the sky and the other hand was on her
Thigh
I was grinding to the beat with my hammer on my side
Now the g's only as we speed to the rolex
And three or four g's is what we sneeze on the rolex
Playing some cards it's about 6 am
You think the is over but if just begin
They say clubs pacing like bad boys 2
You can see the snow bunnies doing what bad girls do
That's esctasy weed that had girl to
Scoop the bitch that had ki's selling fast off blue
Now i'm speeding to the telly got the porshe behind
Trying to get in her belly the only thought on my mind
Like damn; not trying to be pushy or nothing but
Since the strip joint girl I should have been fucking
[Chorus (Trey Songz)]
Spending the summer with the top dropped low
Throwing my hundreds at the top notch hoes
Smoking on the top notch dro...
That's a summer with Miami
Bottle in the air
I'm living without a care
Shorty beside me
The wind blowing threw her hair
That's a summer with Miami
[Verse 2 (Jim Jones)]
I can't keep it low anymore
I'll be with my girl when it starts snow and get bored
When you love three women
It's hard to keep up with the lies
You see spring my first love I started creeping with
July
Used to say I had some shows
Catch a plane to M-I then
I started tricking dough and bought a range for july
But i said I'm love sick over this hot ass hoochie and
First seen her when I told NAS I'd Slap off his Koofi
We don't play disrespect but that was the day we met
Summer jam o-2 I hit the stage with my set but her man
Was from brooklyn she still slipped me the number
She said he's on vacation she get with me this summer
Then i been flirting over the past two years now she
Hates seeing me in the winter
Ain't gonna last through the years
Now i'm looking at winter like life's an adventure
And then when june comes i'll be gone till september
Now would you hate me for that
I know your heart's cold could you wait till i'm back
I'm just a sucker for love
But a nigga hold me down if you wanna fuck with a thug
[Chorus (2x)]
Spending the summer with the top dropped low
Throwing my hundreds at the top notch hoes
Smoking on the top notch dro
That's a summer wit Miami
Bottle in the air
I'm living without a care
Shorty beside me
The wind blowing threw her hair
That's a summer with Miami
I'm In Love With A Thug lyrics - Jim Jones
[Jim Jones talking]
Hello, oh' whats up baby,
Aint doing nothing im on my way home right now,
What?!? Im in tha studio
Yo i gotta get ready and go home man
[Woman Singing]
I'm in love...With a thug
I'm in love...With a GanGsta, Yeh
[Jim Jones]
Now my wife she won't stop blowin' my phone up
Every Bitch conversation they keep throwin' tha Jones up..(They Lien)
It makes it hard im tryna show her Iv grown up
But deep down inside she know i will never give them ho's up
She talk marriage but ya boy froze up, cold feet
Man she know im in love wit' these cold streets
So im flowin' threw tha night, just left my bitch house
Im going home to my wife, as i live this double life
[Woman singing]
I'm in love....With a thug
I'm in love.....With a GanGsta, Yeh [X2]
[Jim Jones]
It started as a crush for years wishin' i could fuck her
Next thing i got caught up, she had me trippin' like a mushroom
Shit became fucked up cause we both became love-struck
I be out commitin' crimes, she be still up on my mind
Now im tryna shake it off, she still drippin' through tha brain
You know i fean for her like a hit of that Cocain
She say my thug is like drugs and she need her a rehab
And she strung out over love when she see me see relapse
[Woman singing]
I'm in love....With a thug
I'm in love....With a GanGsta, yeh [x2]
No matter what, no one can judge me or tell me how i could feel
Lord knows this man, Is ryde or die, he keeps it so so real
Even if his pants hang low, or some times he'll even roc tha corn rows
Lord knows my everything, and i gotta GOTTA let'em LET'EM know
[Jim Jones]
Now that we argue every night, tha most horrible of fights
If i get caught cheatin', U gon' carve me wit' a knife
But let's take it back, when we use to party every night
I thought you of all people would know its hard to live my life
I say Im in tha studio, You say You wit' some groupie ho
We going back and forth, GAWW-DAMN, this aint a movie yo
I'm not tha one for complainin', be mentally drainin'
But some times just listen, its only one thing im sayin'.......I Love You
[Woman singing]
I'm in love....With a thug
I'm In love....With a GanGsta, Yeh [x2]
I'm In Love With A Thug Print
Correct
[Jim Jones talking]
Hello, oh' whats up baby,
Aint doing nothing im on my way home right now,
What?!? Im in tha studio
Yo i gotta get ready and go home man
[Woman Singing]
I'm in love...With a thug
I'm in love...With a GanGsta, Yeh
[Jim Jones]
Now my wife she won't stop blowin' my phone up
Every Bitch conversation they keep throwin' tha Jones up..(They Lien)
It makes it hard im tryna show her Iv grown up
But deep down inside she know i will never give them ho's up
She talk marriage but ya boy froze up, cold feet
Man she know im in love wit' these cold streets
So im flowin' threw tha night, just left my bitch house
Im going home to my wife, as i live this double life
[Woman singing]
I'm in love....With a thug
I'm in love.....With a GanGsta, Yeh [X2]
[Jim Jones]
It started as a crush for years wishin' i could fuck her
Next thing i got caught up, she had me trippin' like a mushroom
Shit became fucked up cause we both became love-struck
I be out commitin' crimes, she be still up on my mind
Now im tryna shake it off, she still drippin' through tha brain
You know i fean for her like a hit of that Cocain
She say my thug is like drugs and she need her a rehab
And she strung out over love when she see me see relapse
[Woman singing]
I'm in love....With a thug
I'm in love....With a GanGsta, yeh [x2]
No matter what, no one can judge me or tell me how i could feel
Lord knows this man, Is ryde or die, he keeps it so so real
Even if his pants hang low, or some times he'll even roc tha corn rows
Lord knows my everything, and i gotta GOTTA let'em LET'EM know
[Jim Jones]
Now that we argue every night, tha most horrible of fights
If i get caught cheatin', U gon' carve me wit' a knife
But let's take it back, when we use to party every night
I thought you of all people would know its hard to live my life
I say Im in tha studio, You say You wit' some groupie ho
We going back and forth, GAWW-DAMN, this aint a movie yo
I'm not tha one for complainin', be mentally drainin'
But some times just listen, its only one thing im sayin'.......I Love You
[Woman singing]
I'm in love....With a thug
I'm In love....With a GanGsta, Yeh [x2]
Tupac Joint lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. 40 Cal, Fatal Hussein)
[Verse 1: Jim Jones]
Rumors that were said, shot in cold blood
Two up in my head, can't talk phone bugged
Somebody want me dead, but I'm still flossin'
I rock my jewelry through the scurriest streets
I keep my ears to the streets
And I ain't scared of police
Lord knows that I got various beefs
So could you pray for the week
You know the rules play on the sheet
So we hustle everyday of the week
That's why we fuck up all the paper we see
We hit the clubs, fuckin ladies for free
Getting drunk, off and hazin' the V
And every couple days we get sweeped
Around the clock we bumpin' and clickin'
You gotta watch cause when they come they be blitzin'
[Chorus: Jim Jones]
Now this is for my homies and my thugs
One million in the truck, and the chrome full of sluts (Fully Automatic!)
You fuckin phonies you'll get plugged (Boom!..Bang!)
I'm a ghetto nigga for life
The streets is in my blood (DIPSET!)
Now this is for my homies and my thugs
One million in the truck, and the chrome full of sluts (Fully Automatic!)
You fuckin phonies you'll get plugged (Boom!..Bang!)
I'm a ghetto nigga for life
The streets is in my blood (BYRDGANG!)
[Verse 2: Fatal Hussein]
Ya niggaz dyin', while you other niggaz is hidin'
Might be strapped, but you runnin' and ain't ridin'
So I'm slidin' to the place down the hill
Where the homies is murda and when its poppin' down to kill
On the real
The only way a motherfucker try to survive
Is knowin' that he 'bout to die, and ride
I told Face he was the realest in the game
And he smiled and told me 'Pac was the realest that they came
In the jungle, I walk like I'm the king of the beasts
So when you duck huntin', keep movin' cause I'm swingin' the heat
I might go out of town, move fakin' is none of that
And never leave up out the hood, the way I can't come back
Fuck that
Hussein in the street game frame
Life is a struggle, so with the heat take aim
I'm ghetto, don't ever think I'm him its not me
Cuz I love this motherfucker like pills in a hot tea
[Chorus]
[Verse 3: 40 Cal]
Why ya act like I'm new to this?
Mack to the uzi clip
When it comes to beef, we all packed like Luis Rich
Battlin' is ludacris, half of ya uterus
Matter fact, Jimmy, pass me the "Kufi List"
What you think niggaz got goons for?
The mass menace at ya door like a costume ball (hello)
My flow is like when you throw a 'Pac tune on
The only time you get tax is when you cop new 'gords, dog
I make it happen with no sarcasm
So it ain't the station wagon, when you see me dodge magnums (get it?)
If I don't hit you when the clip fills
Like the show off the blind date, ya know the fifth will
Break niggaz like big bills, when it peels
Sit still, shit's real, listen you a kid's meal
And I eat those, reload, heat blown
Keep those kilos, cause we go beast mode
[Chorus]
Baby Girl lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Max B)
[Intro: Jim Jones]
Clap, Byrd Gang, clap, Byrd Gang, clap Dip-Set!!!
Can I get a G clap, Byrd Gang, clap, Byrd Gang
Clap, Byrd Gang
Can I get a G clap
[Verse: 1 Jim Jones]
I be like hoooold up, wait a minute
I'm in the coupe, laiiiiid up in it
Sunk in the seat, suede all in it
Drop top roof blowin haze all in it
And yall know imma straight up menace
Run up in ya crib there's a safe up in it
New York City yall aint safe up in it
Yall niggaz fugaze, my niggaz authentic
The game like bitches that need make-up
These niggaz beefin and kissin and then they make-up
Shit, I still prowl through the gutta
All you hear em say is that's a wild muthafucka
Its been a while muhfucker
Had to fall back, face trial cause of Rucker
One-Eyed Willie, you can come try kill me
Still ridin that 5, you can get hung high silly
[Chorus: Max B]
Baby girl, you tryna be down with the Dip-Set?
Well then you gotta get ya lips wet
Baby girl we gettin them big checks, tre-pound, sawed-off, we splittin
Them big checks
Yall aint thought he posed ta flow
Thought he posed ta go
Thought he posed ta blooooooow
Its Dip-set baby, DIP-SET!!!
Nigga its Jim Jones
[Verse 2: Jim Jones]
Now everybody know me
Usually in the club wit a bunch of O.G'z
We pop bottles and we all smoke weed
And we'll burn this bitch down, better call po-lice
And yall know yall don't want that beef
I'm tryna G-Mack look at all these freaks
Besides, the dance floor look sweet
So like Lil' Jon we can all skeet skeet
I'm tryna bag this bimbo
Mad she spilled her drink on the tan Timbo's
Stuntin' hard in my B-Boy pose
You aint got nuttin on me dogz aint V I aint drove
Fuck about the law top-speed on the road
.44 squeeze, breathe, relooooaad
And if I gotta take it that far
That mean I left the club nigga and went straight to the car
[Chorus: Max B]
Baby girl, you tryna be down with the Dip-Set?
Well then you gotta get ya lips wet
Baby girl we gettin them big checks, tre-pound, sawed-off, we splittin
them big checks
Yall aint thought he posed ta flow
Thought he posed ta blooooooow
Its Dip-set baby, DIP-SET!!!
Nigga its Jim Jones
[Verse 3: Jim Jones]
I live a hard rock life
Mix a whole pot til that hard rock white
Six 4-5, hard top white
Big 4-5 for you hard rocks aite
And my advice to the buyers
Although the City's hot I rock ice thru the fire
Listenin to Pac, live life like rider when I pull up to the block fiends
wipin off the tires
So I got to be the hardest
15th and Lennox when my posse in the projects
500 on the tennis, I'm like Gotti in the projects
Jewish lawyers niggaz so I gots to be the charges
So how's that for starters
.40cal niggaz, blow back ya starter
New Jack City 2 blocks from the carter
Foul hunreds double up a.ka. this is harlem
[Chorus: Max B]
Baby girl, you tryna be down with the Dip-Set?
Well then you gotta get ya lips wet
Baby girl we gettin them big checks, tre-pound, sawed-off, we splittin
them big checks
Yall aint thought he posed ta flow
Thought he posed ta blooooooow
Its Dip-set baby, DIP-SET!!!
Nigga its Jim Jones
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