Frienemies lyrics - Jim Jones
This shit is fucked up 'cause some niggas call it tough love
It's crazy 'cause you might know a nigga all your life
And he got a twisted alterier motive
And he just wanna see you do bad
See a smile on your face all day
So he just acting like your friend when he is really your enemy
Or your best friend can become your enemy
Through the, through the the jealousy so we call those frienemies
Knew him since a child, played cops and robbers
My best partner grew up to be monsters
Stayed in my crib, ate out my fridge
We was on a grind, even wore the same clothes
My brother, fucked the same hoes
His beef was mine, even had the same foe
We was inseparable, joined at the hip
I let you get the checks, I kept the joints on the hit
And what happened, the sneaky hating
Niggas in your ear and a plan deviating
Snakes in the grass just waiting for the moment
Niggaz on your team and they're really your opponent
Play the game and you know goes booments
Mama said friends come by the dozen
Know I'm feeling for their guns when I hug em'
I hate them from a close, from a distance I could love em'
Frienemies, frienemies
The ones you kept close, the ones you love the most
Frienemies
You know who you kiss, you know who you lift
This shit is getting scary
Frenemies, frienemies
The ones you kept secret, you had plans to make it
Frienemies
You can smell the danger
Over the money best friends become strangers
Bailed you out of jail, wait, let me backtrack
First you came home then I got your ass a deal
Fresh out the can, signed a quarter mill
Running through the paper, buying copes and popping pills
Money got low, you started acting ill
You grew desperation, once again you got nailed
Someone got killed, conspiracy
And even still I bailed you out of jail
Without me you would be facing in a pale
But who knew dis, you would be Judas
But in the process flew you in the world
Put diamonds on your neck like you was my little girl
Put money in your pocket like you was my son Su
Food in your stomach like you was my son Pooh
The streets talk, heard you partnered Tru
Now you talkin' shit like you really wanna do it
A will-wack the type that deceive you
Your mama should have told you never bite the hand that feed you
Caught me off guard, I met you through my man
I let my guards down and accepted you as fam
Told you get a chair, let you eat at the table
Never thought that he would be ungrateful
But guess what, I own the pub and the label
So if a nigga feeling itchy, I got killers on the paper
Frienemies, frienemies
The ones you kept close, the ones you love the most
Frienemies
You know who you kiss, you know who you lift
This shit is getting scary
Frenemies, frienemies
The ones you kept secret, you had plans to make it
Frienemies
You can smell the danger
Over the money best friends become strangers
Hope y'all paying attention, keep y'all eyes open
Hope I ain't wasting my breathe
About this shit that I'm talking about 'cause it's so real
You gotta watch these niggas around you
'Cause you never know whose who now a days
And all of our love we be showing
They might not be showing the same type of love back
Matter of fact they might not be in there for your best interest
See an alterier motive is hard to see when
You've known a person for so long
Or you've became a custom to their ways
But you gotta stay on fifty, you gotta stay on fifty
'Cause you got some people that think like
If niggas is moving fast like that then karma will get em'
But sometimes karma don't come around fast enough
To handle the situation
But sometimes for us to learn a lesson we go way to far
Then the consequences become way too heavy
That's what I'm trying to let learn from experience
And please don't be naive to the fact that the nigga next to you
Could be the nigga that set you up for failure or even kill you
You know how the game go and you gotta watch these bitches
These trifilling bitches, man, they set you up for failure too
You know, they're in there for the money, man, gold digging bitches
It's a fucked up world but you probably won't even get a chance
You know, might put you up in a gang
Frienemies
Precious lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Ryan Leslie)
[Chorus: Ryan Leslie]
Shorty you precious... and you gon' love how I put it down (yeah)
I see you watching... so let's not mess around (no)
No hesitating... cause I got what you're lookin for... (Oh yeah, yeah)
And I got one word... one word to describe ya...
Ohh, you're precious.
[Rap: Jim Jones]
(Uh... Jones)
Whoa, whoa, shortyYou know you precious (Sexy)
Hands down a little more then impressive...(Such a diva)
You could afford to be selective...
If you've got a man he needa be over protective... (He betta watch out)
No game just telling you my perspective...(uh huh)
I would try to scoop you if I didn't even direct...(Without a deal)
She'll leave a nigga breathless, now who you came with is who they say you done left with... (Jones)
You got a love her, every the morning you got breakfast
And she don't be goin through my phone like no detective (Babe)
Seeing me with you got them sicka than asbestos (Oh)
You aint gotta love it they gotta f*ckin respect it...(You betta do that)
If I were you, I would get up on some neck shit
If I send the goons out somebody's gonna make an exit (Bird game)
She come and get me if I get arrested...(Oww)
lil' mama do the unexpected... (Uh huh)
Cause Shorty's she's a ridah... (Such a ridah)
[Chorus: Ryan Leslie]
Shorty you precious... and you gon' love how I put it down (yeah)
I see you watching... so let's not mess around (no)
No hesitating... cause I got what you're lookin for... (Oh yeah, yeah)
And I got one word... one word to describe ya...
Ohh, you're precious.
[Rap: Jim Jones]
Every Obama needs a Michelle... (A first lady)
So little mama won't you be my Michelle...(Uh)
Michelle, my belle, I want you on my team... can't you tell... (Uh huh)
Wanna buy you pretty things like bags from Chanel...
Texting on the phone I got you laughin on your cell... (You like that?)
SMH, LOL, with a smiley face (Nasty) talking dirty got me hotter than a fireplace... (Go)
Whats the deal, is you tryna get baked, take you out the fridge and put your ass on broil... (Go)
Treat you like milk I'll let your ass get spoiled... (And?)
Said you wanna ride, I bought you brand new toys...(Take that take that)
So tell cupid that I seen my target, pretty face, and a body like a Greek goddess...(She's a dime)
A diva, closet like Neiman Marcus (C'mon) work on a new fashion before it hits the market...
[Chorus: Ryan Leslie]
Shorty you precious... and you gon' love how I put it down (yeah)
I see you watching... so let's not mess around (no)
No hesitating... cause I got what you're lookin for... (Oh yeah, yeah)
And I got one word... one word to describe ya...
Ohh, you're precious.
[Chorus: Ryan Leslie]
Shorty you precious... and you gon' love how I put it down (yeah)
I see you watching... so let's not mess around (no)
No hesitating... cause I got what you're lookin for... (Oh yeah, yeah)
And I got one word... one word to describe ya...
Ohh, you're precious.
This Is For My Bitches lyrics - Jim Jones
This goes out to all my fly ladies all across the world
You know I love you
And I'm sorry if I called you a bitch. sincerely yours, JONES
Shawty's like the sexiest thinkg that I've ever seen
She is like a drug and you know im'a fiend
When we sexin
Shawty let me
Do the different freaky things to her
And I like the way she kiss me when we're all alone
And like when she miss me she be callin ma phone
Like where you been?
Lets get it in
Scoop her up like baby lets roll
This is for my bitches
All around the world and they straight up sexy
All around the world ladies can you feel me?
That's the girls I like I put your hands up high I I I
This is for my bitches
All around the world and they straight up sexyy
All the girls around the world ladies can you feel me?
That's the girls I like I..put your hands high I I I
This is for my bitches
From New york she was summer laid (like a star)
Pretty thang from around the way (she was all)
Body like she was from the A
I like I like M.I.A
High drops that's the way we play
Top down major woulda made ya day
Spending money like a vegas day
My My My lyrics - Jim Jones
N they shootin, I must be on top
(it's clear up here)
We coopin we must be inta trouble,
Some hard type shit that cost a quarter mill a pop
It makes me laugh ha, life is so ironic,
How I would get tha cash I become so iconable
Cop the fast cars that come with the trip tonic panel
I live the life that's filled with the jealousy
Doomed from the start its like we born wit a felony
Wheres the longevity
We in the place where best friends become enemies
And foul nigguhs got the tendency
You gotta watch what you wish for
I hope to god its on a switchboard
When I'm tryin to say a prayer and I'm callin hope you listen lord
See its just my position lord
Gotta me smokin on this blunt while I'm lookin at the sky
Make it rain so I know the doves cry.
[Chorus]
Lord do you hear me praying, when I'm lookin at the sky
I hope you can hear what I'm saying
Its like my, my, my
Im not really complaining, but it makes me wanna cry
I know you can see what I'm saying
Its like my, my, my
Its like my, my, my
Cuz god aint cryin when the sky starts to rain
That must u and god in heaven poppin champagne
And speakin of the shams, remember in Miami
You got bent pussy it was your first trip wit me
We was goin hard to many bottles up in free-vay
U was goin crazy wit my Haitian man t-sway
Pass that on the twins I had teesh fer like 3 days
And I cant forget ur b-day
We had dead body tap we was deeper then aye
And now I'm just wishin I could see a nigguh face
And they kill, bang bang, did u get it wit em yet
And its a damn shame because nigguhs still upset
Like chita chala god musta needed y'all
I think about the street dream saw how we were born
But now all I got is the memories of two great soldiers
That are dear friends of me
[Chorus]
To tell you both the truth, I aint doin the best
Im tryin to keep a positive mind movin thru the stress
Im tryin to stay afloat, they say I'm doin the most
Im doin way to much I'm playin death to close
Im think bout the thought of goin back to court
For the petty little games I really should avoid
But its the calculator risk on how we make the chip
Realizin if I slip its a bottomless pit
If you'd a filled my shoes, would you walk a mile
Let the media tear you down and turn around and smile
I thank god that I'm alive to see a black president
We screamin yes we can but that wont change the deficit
That aint really even the best of it,
You catch me in the streets I will surly tell you the rest of it
[Chorus]
Pop Champagne lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Ron Browz, Juelz Santana)
[Intro: Ron Browz]
Ether boy!!!! Hey!!!!
[Chorus: Ron Browz]
How we ball in the club I know you hate it
Mami dancin on the floor all like she naked
When she lay down with you I know she fake it
All the girls give it to me I ain't gotta take it
OHHHHHHHH!!!!! Pop champagne!
OHHHHHHHH!!!!! Pop champagne!
OHHHHHHHH!!!!! We pop champagne!
OHHHHHHHH!!!!! We pop champagne!
[Verse 1: Ron Browz]
We need more bottles tell ma hurry up
Tell 'em Ron Browz here hottest in America
Gimme sixteen bars and you know I tear it up
Know it's me when you see this fur in your area
And she call me all night cause you can get it up
On my neck on my wrist everything is litted up
Drinkin bottles of that Clique 'till I spit it up
Only get one life so you gotta live it up
(HEY!!!) If you in the things I'm in
Shorty we can be friends, shorty we can be friends
Right now, I wanna see you dance, see you dance
I wanna see you dance, see you dance
I wanna see you dance, see you dance
I wanna see you dance, see you dance
[Verse 2: Jim Jones (*Ron Browz)]
When I go to the dealer you know I cop that (What's that?)
Brand new 'rarri and the roof drop back (The 60)
Came through Harlem like the Rooftop back (AIYYO!!!)
Money in the bank man you know don't stop that (Stop that stop that stop that!!!)
(*OHHHHHHHH!!!!!) Now we tryin to get up in the club
(*OHHHHHHHH!!!!!) Try to tell me no cause I'm rollin with the thugs
(We got money bitch!!!) Until I flash a couple of dollars (Yep!)
Tell 'em we only want tables and we buyin out the bottles
(*OHHHHHHHH!!!!!) Y'all know the order
Tell 'em ten Rose's and a few cold waters (Right!!!)
Only Petron and a couple of lemons (Let's go)
Ten thousand dollars stuffed up in the denims (What else)
We standin on couches, a couple of women (Hey baby)
We was ballin hard it was just the ninth inning (Early)
He told shorty we could be friends (Yep)
And your friends could meet with my friends (What else)
And we could do this on the weekend or on the weekday
We could do this on the freeway and get in the freak way
SHIT!!! We could get in on three way (Oh)
Blackberry two way, souped up cars on the thruway (Yep)
We superstars no Lupe, we could do this like a duet
But y'all be the singers on the mic, wait let me dim the lights
This was in the car while I was stoppin at the light
[Chorus: Ron Browz]
How we ball in the club I know you hate it
Mami dancin on the floor all like she naked
When she lay down with you I know she fake it
All the girls give it to me I ain't gotta take it
OHHHHHHHH!!!!! Pop champagne!
OHHHHHHHH!!!!! Pop champagne!
OHHHHHHHH!!!!! We pop champagne!
OHHHHHHHH!!!!! We pop champagne!
[Verse 3: Juelz Santana]
Baby I wanna see you work (Go) See you dance (Go)
Without no shirt, without those pants
Pop champagne ain't a damn thing change
Spray it in the air make it champagne rain
Buckets of ice keep the champagne cool
Mami got a body see that damn thing move
It's no sex in the champagne room
Says who? Baby I'll break all rules
Bring it here and I'll break off you
She see me in V.I.P. and wanna break on through
When she with you she lyin but she fake it
When she with me she like it she never fake it
[Bridge: Ron Browz]
I wanna see you dance, see you dance
I wanna see you dance, see you dance
I wanna see you dance, see you dance
I wanna see you dance, see you dance
[Chorus: Ron Browz]
How we ball in the club I know you hate it
Mami dancin on the floor all like she naked
When she lay down with you I know she fake it
All the girls give it to me I ain't gotta take it
OHHHHHHHH!!!!! Pop champagne!
OHHHHHHHH!!!!! Pop champagne!
OHHHHHHHH!!!!! We pop champagne!
OHHHHHHHH!!!!! We pop champagne!
Rain lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Rell, NOE, Starr)
[Chorus - Rell]
We to close can't stop praying now
Though there seems theres no one to this pain
Everytime I close my eyes I pray for rain
I pray for rain to wash away the strain
[Verse 1 - Jim Jones]
You couldnt understand how much the pain weight
So in the hood we love the rainy days
Cause subconstantly we know the suns coming
We love the winter cause we know the summers coming
Remeber I got locked the same nite my son was coming
All I could do is pray that they dont take me away
And lord knows I have the angel's on my side
They search the car I had the hammer in my ride
A mirical on flatbush avenue I still made it back
To say push when she was having you
A newer version a younger me I want him to go to school
And raise him motherfucka free I swear some places I dont want him to be
I swear some things I dont want him to see but new booty daddy
Loves you truley and the nights you dont see me you know daddy's on his duty
[Chorus]
[Verse 2 - NOE]
Whats a poor mans pickle survive threw the poor pull a truck upfront
And drive threw the store had to be a felon hated being proper
Read the book of life and satin was the author still I was the colperate
Rather be in rikers the bugger had my baby momma running threw them
Diapers all fo that shiting and all them pampers
Grandma layed up with all of that cancer lid paint flaking constanly chipping
Mama with that dark rum constanly sipping I vowe to my name a bad transmission for getting in the game thats a bad transittion
One flick one night I'm ally ally outsin free for getting you a place with a g
A couple heavy shots ima newer man ready go and get paper the hustler
With the confetti
[Chorus]
[Verse 3 - Starr]
I can turley understand how life can drain all the passion from a man
With just one chance it can change his circumstance
And get the money baby lets get the money baby
[Chorus till fade]
Na Na Nana Na Na lyrics - Jim Jones
Dipset, as we proceed what have we here?
Take that, take that, it's 0-9 muthafucka
One thing to do get money muthafucka
I pulled off like na, na, na, na, na, na
They would of tried some bullshit but a nigga had the blamer
They only got me 'cause they caught it on a camera
They wanna ball but they ain't got no stamina
They said damn man, you lookin' like Pac
I said, nah not alive, man I'm lookin' like Jones
Besides I put money on your skull and bones
And keep it low, watch what you say up on those fuckin' phones
Touch down and getcha ass hung the fuck up
Just like a bunch of clothes
Hey, ma we stretch work like you touch your toes
And in the middle of July we got that summer snow
I got 'em snowboarding in August and I love a pretty bitch
But the Porsche look gorgeous
Harlem is one big ski slalom, I guess the hill is like the Swiss Alps
We bring them whips out
We gettin' money like na, na, na, na, na, na
Waitin' at the flash throwin' money at the cameras
Twin turbs out speeding with the scanners
Breeze past the cops screamin' na, na, na, na, na, na
We gettin' money like na, na, na, na, na, na
Lookin' at my ass don't you wish he had a camera
We gettin' money like na, na, na, na, na, na
Drop top at the light screamin' life is good
If there's money on my head I hope they got a receipt
Cool your old ass off 'cause it's hot on these streets
I got dogs and they not on a leash
So you hope you understand, do you copy, capesh?
At this point I don't think they could take it
Sharks in the water they won't make it to safety
And even though that we been gettin' cake
And now the money taste sweet like pastry, they hate me
Now tell me how I look
Would you rather live life like me or by the book?
Sheesh, we are what we are
Make the wrong move will put your faggot ass in the ER
Flat line if it's red apples fallin' hit me on the bat line
I'm back for mine some more black flyin'
The flyest nigga you know that got a knack for crime, na, na
We gettin' money like na, na, na, na, na, na
Waitin' at the flash throwin' money at the cameras
Twin turbs out speeding with the scanners
Breeze past the cops screamin' na, na, na, na, na, na
We gettin' money like na, na, na, na, na, na
Lookin' at my ass don't you wish he had a camera
We gettin' money like na, na, na, na, na, na
Drop top at the light screamin' life is good
And what you do nigga?
I cop cars out the future, pocket so fat like Raspusha
I think I'm gettin' used to lifestyle rich and conspicuous
Chicks want to get with us, the feds takin' flicks of us
They all know I put on for Harlem
Tell rich Broadway I took it up another level
I took 80, blew it on a Beezle
Bought the new Fiskar, flew it through the ghetto
The definition of opulence
The jewels drippin', we droppin' on top and poppin' shit
Who would think that this kid from the projects
Get his neck so cold you would think he's lethargic
The wrist look like hypothermia set in
Pick a club night that the burner don't get in
We pop champagne until the club let out
I drink and I fuck and then I piss a nigga rent out
We gettin' money like na, na, na, na, na, na
Waitin' at the flash throwin' money at the cameras
Twin turbs out speeding with the scanners
Breeze past the cops screamin' na, na, na, na, na, na
We gettin' money like na, na, na, na, na, na
Lookin' at my ass don't you wish he had a camera
We gettin' money like na, na, na, na, na, na
Drop top at the light screamin' life is good
You know the rules nigga? Fly high or get flew over
Roll with us or get rolled over, ain't nothin' change
Just the decimal point muthafucka, you get the point?
Money, money, money, don't make dollars, don't make sense
Fuck you nigga, suck a dick too, Jones
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Intro lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Max B)
Come on come on come on give me that double give me that double give it to me you never knew what it took to get here they say life dont stop for no one so im goin back in my people dis what yall wanted right you said you wanted the truth so i solumly sear that the truth be told im thugin to the day i die it's dipset it's more than just music now it's a way of life its more than the 200 hundred years of blood sweat and tears you understand me for all my ballers my day crawlers its bigger than neno brown take a walk and lets ride take a journey wit ya boy and lets ride you dont even neeed a seat belt homi cause where im bout to take you you'll dont need nuttin homie but i dont need nuttin homie but a bottle purple juice and my weed smoke homie i just need you in the zone take ya othar off and make yaself at home it must to been a confusion i had to make it lust started as a complication i satyed what the huds now its private jets smokin haze what the stars quarter mill out of pression thats how we pay for the cars
So Harlem lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Max B)
[Jim Jones]
Free bail posters, tail lights on the roadster (Ferraris)
Live life vulgar, the FBI posters (fuck the feds)
The fast cars pack guns no holsters (fully loaded)
We act dumb don't approach us (watch yourself)
We hit the spot & stand on club sofas (ballin)
So get the club owners (where he at)
Cause we the boss type knicks game court side
Big chain sporty ride
G4 the lord of skies (flyin)
And courts in session so you all could rise (stand up)
Then pay homage to the board that lies
So many niggaz on my corner died
A marijuana how I mourn you guys (I mourn you)
And nevermind that
My cash better find that (bring my cash)
We do the mask work
Kick doors cash search (I know you here me)
Now where the paper at, man where the yayo at (it get ugly)
You make me wait the gat where your baby layin at (fuck your kid)
Cause it's a cold world, (Yup) after world
Emblem on the car it's no horn on the Capricorn
[Chorus: Max B]
Everybody talkin bout this byrd gang money & this shit is gettin funny to meeee
Jump nigga think you a frog and I'ma hit you with one in your knee
We switch up the cars, we switch up the broads
Got the bitches sayin oh my darling
We fucks with the stars, it's us against y'all
Bucks at the bar we oh so Harlem
[Jim Jones]
A desperado, (Jones) rich like I struck the lotto (ballin)
Trained to fight like Cus D'Amato
I paint the night in them custom models (galotti's)
Racin in the street duckin potholes (speedin)
Who gives a fuck is the motto (fuck em)
The new sneakers, blackberry's new beepers (text mail)
And no tops on the 2 seaters (no tops)
It's summertime give me Coupe fever (I'm hot)
It's four inches for my shoe divas (Chris)
You gon get it cause my crew G'd up
We take chances, (yup) flip label advances (get it)
3 day stays at atlantis (ballin)
Make way for the gangsters (byrd gang)
A 1000 deaths to the cowards (fuck em)
You let him die no flowers (fuck 'em twice)
I use to drive 4 hours, (right)
Switch with my man had a supply worth of powder (I gotta get it)
You chumps want the power
But when it rain man you can't duck the showers (Nope)
It's Byrd gang and you don't wanna fuck with ours (let's do it)
[Chorus]
[Jim Jones]
I got no manners, (kiss ass) ignorant with choppy grammar (ebonics)
Where we livin at the cops can't stand us (fuck squally)
And belligerent & packin hammers (loaded)
And my constituents a act bananas (monkey business)
Cause they get hungry from gorilla talk (you here me)
I'm talkin beef not a bit of pork (no pork)
If you a soldier go get your boss (where he at)
We need to sit & talk (2:12 with him) before it go further
Mo money mo murder ??
And we will pop at you
And whoever you got with you (blatttt)
My muslim niggaz too hard (hustle hard)
Cop jewels new cars (stafalah)
Take guns to jumar
Tryna avoid a new charge (lotti)??
Now I salaam to that & drop a bomb to that (stafalah)
It's war in these streets no sleep we insomniacs (no sleep nigga)
You out your weight class, we'll eat you like Drake fast (eat you up)
The credits all good motherfucker but I'm straight cash (Ballin)
And I'm oh so Harlem
15th bang bang you don't want no problems (Eastside)
Bright Lights, Big City lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Max B)
Yea, Turn it up in the head phones
Ya Know....like that shit sound like rock music
You know what im talkin bout (Uh Uh)
Yea, My man Bruno just stepped in You know how we living it up
We all gettin money (ha) thats what he like to say
Fuck It....Its My Life Nigga
[Verse 1: Jim Jones]
This is a dream of a hustler (like a nightmare!)
I had the butter and the fiends was in love with us (that Fishscale!)
We copped the gutta, not a team that could fuck with us! (Dipset!)
And word to mother keep the thing in every truck with us
Now I was fronting like Rich was, and some of my bit-ches
Was going so hard, got some of us sick thugs (SNAGZ!)
And minor setbacks got some of us tripped up but
The guns we done gripped up so we coming to get ya!
And fuck the local authorities (fuck em!)
and hope the big boys don't pick up my case (pray for me)
Cause for these big toys and these chips, we get chased! (balling!)
Playing ball just like the Orioles to get to 1st base (Ya Hear Me!!!)
But the....goons on 2nd, bust on 3rd (WATCH IT!)
You know they....move with the weapons, get bucks off birds (iT'S CRAZY OUT HERE!)
It's like I'm playing Chicken with my life
Tryna get this paper moving pitches for a price
[Hook: Max B]
WE COME TO RIDE OUT WITH THEM NIGGAS BABY WE GETTING FIGURES
IT'S BYRD GANG......WE DOING IT BIIIIIG
BUT WE TOWERED UP, GET THE REMY I'LL GET A CUP.....YOU SLIPPIN GOOD, CAN I GET A SQUEEEEEZE
I DON'T THINK YOU WANT IT WITH THEM NIGGAS
CAUSE THEM HAMMERS THEY WONT HESISTATE TO SQUEEZE
WE ON THE ROAD, TRAVEL CROSS THE GLOBE.....ALL MY HOMIES UP WITH THIS GETTING CHEEEEEESE
[Verse 2: Jim Jones]
Look....the nightmares of a trap star (SCAAARY!)
With white tees, Nike air's and my fast car (FLOSSIN!)
D.A tryna wrap me in the charge (Uptown)
But I just bought some V's and a pack in my garage (Ballinnn!)
Now....me rapping what's the odds? (whats the odds?)
We the last crew standing....DIPLOMATS NOW IN CHARGE! (Byrd Gang)
Now.....$300 for the light show (WOOOWWW!)
Another hundred on the hand to watch the ice glow (DAMN!)
Another 10 grand to watch the dice roll
Trying to let you motherfuckers see this how my life go (THIS IS REAL SHIT!)
The bright lights and this big city (WOWWW)
I'ma live the nightlife until the pigs get me (Come n get meee!!)
Range Rove'ing, Big Truck Series (YEAHH)
The chain frozen, big chunk jewelry (STUNTIN)
White girls say he's all semi cool (What else?)
But you don't want to cost him cause he got a short fuse
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Jim Jones]
We live life on reality (TRUE SHIT)
And we flip white for a salary (GETTIN MONEY)
You might catch us at the light in the lavish V (BALLINNN)
But watch them "Blue & Whites" try and grab a G (SQUALLYYY)
Making some chips so the hate's getting thick (I FEEL IT!)
Watch the world through my tint, smoking haze in the whip (THAT PURRRRPLEEE!)
Contemplate, maybe take a little trip (Vactionnn!)
Ocean Drive heavy glean in my necklace (WOWW)
Call up cabs, rushing drinks out of "Wet Willies" (DAMMNN)
"Eu Seuy O Balling" but y'all foolish
Getting locked up for crimes and ya lawyer's ain't Jewish! (STUUUUUUUUUPID!)
That's why I keep the Turnie's on the tainer (thats right)
Cause everytime I turn I'm getting chained up (gettin chained up...THATS THE PROBLEM)
They say what they want to search, tryna tame us (FUCK EM)
I think they mad we from the turf and we dangerous
AND MY WHOLE CREW ICEY WE PLAYING HOCKEY LIKE THE RANGERS
[Hook]
Emotionless lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Juelz Santana)
Lemme two-twelve wit' you for second
True story
[Jim Jones]
Cold sweats (sweaty sheets)
From bad dreams (nightmares)
I hope the Feds don't grab the team
Cause we been labeled as the trouble makers (DipSet)
We sell whole pies so you ain't got to cut the cake up
Tell no lies, so the Lord come and take us (solemnly swear)
Praise to Allah, hope the Lord He forsake us (pray for me)
And outlaws is what it made us
We live the fast life, and so we ball out major (ballin')
Until I see a ribbon in the sky
Cop plush cars put ribbons on the ride (full speed ahead)
Due to my political ties
I can't roll around without the drip in the ride (East Side)
And if my gun boys ain't hear of ya
You're lightweight I get the young boys to murder ya
You're looking at a cracker's worst nightmare
Young, black, rich and with a fresh pair Nikes
Boy you talk about my life here
Fuck wit OGs that put dice in the mirror
And they tell me that life's but a gamble
The media will turn your whole life into a scandal
[Chorus]
Put my emotions aside (why?)
Cause they can never take my alive (no)
I'm a ride (I'm a ride)
And don't cry (don't cry)
Cause Momma raised hell of a thug (I'm a thug)
And if I'm standing in front of the judge
Guess what?
He can never take me alive (no)
I'm a ride (I'm a ride)
And don't cry (don't cry)
[Juelz Santana]
Poured off Bentley
Looking like steroids
Jetson car, I'm looking like Elroy
Maserati lookin' like a shark on land
Neiman Marcus edition, contraband
Neiman Marcus I'm in it, shopping and
Five thousand spent on pants, man (man)
Bitches love it, niggas want it
So bad they wanna take it, but I kill 'em for it (huh)
Believe me, I'm like a bear that ain't get his porridge
You better stay out the forest, warning
It's Santana he fucks,
Money man, make you do a handstand for the bucks
I see you clear, my antennas is up
And that hand-scale is still in my pocket
What you want? (What you want?)
Dough boys in the trap, where ya at? (where ya at?)
Coke dealer's in the hood, what's good? (what's good?)
Boy getting them bricks with the stamp on the shit
Well come meet the man that's stamping them bricks (us)
Fly wit' the Byrds, or lie wit' the dirt
Your corpse, flies will emerge
[Chorus]
[Jim Jones]
They say your enemies is close, your friends even closer
Listening to 'Pac up ten in the roaster (speeding)
Now, do you wanna ride or die?
Blowin' smoke in the air, getting high as the sky (that purple)
I'm drunk staring B
I need therapy
The paranoia got me thinking conspiracy
Paper on the brain, the brain on the yayo
I make it off the plane I'm a land to a payroll
My right hand to God, put my right hand in the jar (that mixture)
And it all come back, like grams of the hard
You heard of us, the murders, the most shady (DipSet)
Been on the low lately, the Feds hate me (Jones)
They try to put cuffs on me and my assailants
When I push fees through the streets, they be tailing (speeding)
They try to catch me out of bounds
They know I got pistols if you catch me outta town (loaded)
A thug changes, and love changes
And since 9/11, the price of the drugs changes
[Chorus]
Reppin' Time lyrics - Jim Jones
[Intro]
I'M BACK! I'm on my Dipset shit, 20-30 grand in one pocket, foreign car
outside...living life fast, you niggaz need to catch up, slow pokes
NYC...Here We Go Again!
DIP,DIP SET! I GET ON EXTRA GRIND, I GET ON EXTRA GRIND, I GET ON EXTRA
GRIND...WHEN IT'S, WHEN IT'S REPPIN TIME
WHEN IT'S REPPIN TIME, WHEN IT'S WHEN IT'S REPPIN TIME, WHEN IT'S REPPIN
TIME, WHEN IT'S WHEN IT'S REPPIN TIME
[Chorus One]
I GET ON EXTRA GRIND, I GET ON EXTRA GRIND
I GET ON EXTRA GRIND WHEN IT'S WHEN IT'S REPPIN TIME (DIP DIPSET!)
WHEN IT'S REPPIN TIME, WHEN IT'S WHEN IT'S REPPIN TIME (DIPSET)
WHEN IT'S REPPIN TIME, WHEN IT'S WHEN IT'S REPPIN TIME (DIP DIPSET!)
It's Dipset Season, you ready to grind? Get money, rep yours, what you know
about that? Everyday we hustle, you hear me, YOU HEAR ME? I got money on my
mind man, we the talk of New York
you niggaz want action, I got a movie for ya!
[Jim Jones]
I'm in the coupe relaxing (like that)
you see the roof collapsing (drop the top!)
I got my paper up although I'm still kufi smacking! (smack the shit out you!)
And it's God fearing, foreign car steering
60 thou Jabar wearing, just beat a trial hearing
You should catch me walking cocky out the courtroom (diddy bopping!)
Like eat my dust, a buck 40 for the Porsche zoom (ZOOOOOOOOOM!)
Back in population (what else?)
we cop drops to race 'em (BALLIIIING!)
we getting money over here WHAT'S YOUR OCCUPATION?!?!
We on top of things, and we got them things (them birds)
But we only sell them birds, you tryna cop a wing? (you a petty hustler)
I know the real Rich...the REAL Richard Porter
RIP he left the hood to us, we own the corners! (HARLEM!)
The bright lights and my big city
my ice bright and the wrist silly (FLOSSIIIIIIING!)
I'm risking Fed time, front page headline
make the pedal hit the floor til the throttle red line!
[Chorus Two]
DIP DIP DIP DIPSET! WHEN IT'S REPPIN TIME, WHEN IT'S WHEN IT'S REPPIN TIME (DIPSET)
WHEN IT'S REPPIN TIME, WHEN IT'S WHEN IT'S REPPIN TIME (DIPSET)
WHEN IT'S REPPIN TIME, WHEN IT'S WHEN IT'S REPPIN TIME (DIPSET)
WHEN IT'S REPPIN TIME, WHEN IT'S WHEN IT'S REPPIN TIME (DIP DIPSET!)
[Jim Jones]
I let my pants sag (why?), so I can show my ass (KISS MY ASS!)
It's twenty g's a pocket, that's cause we blowing cash (that's NOTHING!)
And when the photo's flash (SMILE!), Gallardies going pass
Lights, camera's, autographs..."Wet Willies", call a cab
The fast life is pricey, the time piece is icey (BLINGING!)
And my niggaz moving fish scale just like the Pisces!
Momma raised a thug, lawyers when we face the judge (Kelina!)
This is the chance we take to try and put ya brain on drugs
...and we invade the clubs standing on the furniture
Throwing gang signs, two stepping with our burners tucked (EASTSIIIIDE!)
and we will burn you up like three star alarm
WE ARE THE BOMB HUNDRED G'S ON THE CHARM (Byrd Gang!)
You'd think I own the cleaners how I wash that paper
And now we at the dealer tryna cop all flavors (BALLIIIIIIING!)
We at the dealer dog (yeah), so how you feeling y'all?!?
....just tear the ceiling off, fuck the light we peeling off!
[Chorus Two]
[Chorus One]
[Jim Jones]
The young and the restless...live life reckless
House money on the necklace the pigs want him arrested
Cause I'm obsessed with the guns and the vest's
cause when you get some cake, the candles come with a death wish!
The rock star living (what else?), the hot cars and women (LAVISH LIFE!)
...the God forgive him, hope the cop cars don't get 'em (SQUALIIIIIIIIE!)
This for them niggaz that...at the club, throwing stacks (BALLIN!)
At Star Wars, they threw two I threw four back!
and I'm back, it's Mr. New York City
My hat to the back, I stay flyer than a Frisbee
We still diddy bopping (yeah)
we still could get it poppin (yeah!)
ain't nothing change but the year of the Range
And the clouds still moving with the squamy (loaded)
and the gangsta's don't die, we get MONEEEEY and move to Miami!
When it's repping time, I get on extra grind
40 cal, an extra nine Dipset the cities mine!
[Chorus Two]
Pin The Tail lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Cam'Ron, Juelz Santana, Max B)
[Max B]
Byrd Gang club banger
Tryna holla at ya shorty
One focus, one focus only
I'm tryna hit that thang!
Let's go
[Max B]
WE MAKE HITS IN THE STUDIO NIGHTLY, WE OUT TRYNA GET THIS MONEYYYYYYYYYYYY (Tryna Get it)
WE TAKE TRIPS IN THE WINTER IN JET PLANES, IN THE CLIMATES WHERE IT'S SUNNYYYYYYY (MIA)
WE GOT MAMI ON THE DANCE FLOOR GRINDIN TO THE BEAT, TIPSY OFF THE BUBBLYYYYYYY (BUBBLY)
BUT AT THE END OF THE DAY, YOUR FRIEND IN THE PLAY....I'M TRYNA PIN THE TAIL ON THE DONKEYYYY!
[Verse 1: Jim Jones]
It goes Yes Yes Y'all-ing (b-boy boys), fresh to death balling (BALLLLLINNNN!)...
you can play hard under pressure, I'm scoring (swish!)
They playing tight D (uh huh), play the paint like a G (boxed out)...
and some say they gangsta's but they ain't like me (not at all!)
I came from an environment (uh huh), 'caine I was frying it (bricks)...
then hit the dealer, see the Range I was buying it (it's nothing!)
We don't test drive (uh huh), buy the whole whip like you should (fuck a lease!)...
cheffin' up pies, a whole brick like you should
Then take the proceeds, waste about 4 G's (balling)...
buy bottles in the club, tryna get the older skeez (gettin twisted!)
I'm tryna get the dame to breeze....
but she putting up a fight like Laila Ali (and what's ya name nigga?!)
I told the lady I be...
doing the turnpike, eighty in a fly V (WHAT ELSE?!)
Middle name "forty on the wrist"
last name "you can't afford me bitch!" get a camcorder bitch! (YEAH!)
[HOOK]
[Verse 2: Juelz Santana]
Case is a Perryay Rose (yep!)
look like Picasso painted on the bottle (haha)
We throwing money we looking like Lotto (you see it)
I could cover chicks with cheese like nacho's
Fly out the cold (cold), land in the heat (where?)
New York to Miami Beach (yeah)
Bitch I live the life of a hood-star
rock-star without the gui-tar got em all rubbing they push-bra (AWWWWW)
Got em all shaking they tush like
I'mma give em a taste of the good life (nope!)
But I'll give em a taste of the good liquor
a taste of that good bud, next thing you know she be tasteing of my good UHHHHHHHHHH!
I get money, be quiet....you talking to the Jolly Green Giant
I see it, I like it, I buy it baby
I'm flyer than a pilot flying at his highest, climate
[HOOK]
[Verse 3: Cam'ron]
WHERE MY HOOOMIIIIIIIES? UP TO NO GOOD
WHERE MY HOOOMIIIIIIIES? YEP, I'M SO HOOD
Uh...What up pimpin pimpin? (what up pimpin!)
I'm exec already (fuck that!)
See my hoes are like my plates...temporary (out of here)
I ignore ya, beat it (beat it), move more strategic (strategic)
The marble's mad yep, the floors are heated (in other words)
Cam half pound a quarter key it (key it)
better ask 'round soon they'll need a Mac round, enjoy the scenic
In the ninety's Z3's, BB's now in the crib TV's watch TV
(flat screens watch flat screens)
Killa killa more killing and then the kitty purs (meeeeow)...
fuck furs, his and hers, Bentley Spurs (that's a fact)
Gun talk real talk speak Mac to Mac (mac), we like the Pistons, Bulls...
you know back to back (back to back CHAMPS!)
Maesarati's back to back come ride with me
on 1100 not the bike....two 550's!
KILLA!
[HOOK]
Get It Poppin' lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Jha Jha, Princess)
[Jha Jha Verse]
Now I am fresh out of bail
harder flyer than a muthafuck
I dont do the ??
Sumthin like a rubber nut
Sumthin like a hustler
Got it runin through my blood
You aint bout dat money
Well honey I dont give a fuck
trynna ball wit a hoodie on
Cost about a stack
Got my booty shorts on but you cant see da stash
My shawty in da hood said he like it like dat
He put it on me good
and I throw it right back
Im a Playa
Ima pimp
I'll stick ya up for ya cheedar
And all ya chips
Gimme da keys
I want da Juice
Da credit cards, Da dogs and house too
Dey see Im doin me
Dey see Im gettin paid
I still be in da hood
Repersentin for da Days
Mercedes wanna hate
Try to stomp em
Ima Fake
O its all in da game
But im still gettin cake
[Hook (Jha Jha)]
If you a G
Lemme see
You aint gotta pay for da dinner
Its on me
Lets get it poppin shawty
Lets get it poppin shawty
I get it poppin shawty
Lets get it poppin shawty
[Hook (Jim Jones)]
We got da cash (Flossin')
Buy out da bars(Ballin')
Drop da tops out da celing
You see da stars (Uh)
We get it poppin shawty (Uh)
I get it poppin shawty (Uh)
We get it poppin shawty (Uh)
We get it poppin shawty (Uh)
[Jim Jones Verse]
Now what bitch dont want me (Who)
Young rich G (Ballin')
Gun beneath da seat
Pushin a hundred on da V (Speedin')
Hand on da rocks two seater what you call dat (Foul)
Lambergini drop
Two divas how ya solve dat (Get Em)
Easy Just loosen up da bra strap
Make em feel sexy
Push dat seat to da coupe back (da celing's missin)
And den you let da breeze do da four play Caress her a little
And den you let da V do da horseplay
Turn da city streets to a horse race
Burn rubber (Vroom)
And word motha I got no cover Hoes love us (Dey love us doe)
And I only fear da Lord above us (Gratefully)
So if you want me come and get me
Make it good muhfucka (I'm neva scared)
Tell da hatas cuff at dat (Chea)
I play wit paper by da ten stack (Cakin)
I love ladies wit a shoe fettish (HA HA)
I tell her baby I got a coupe fettish (You hear dat)
You wanna ride wit a G
[Both hooks]
[Princess Verse]
Now bout to get it poppin
If you ready for us
Startin wit dem shoppin sprees
Im givin honts so dey know it
Who said love dont cost a thing
Im from da city where da chicks are thick
Blingin on dey neck and wrist
And niggas poppin bottles
While da ladies rock dey hips
You get to know me and i'll teach you somethin
To go from lil money flossin
To doin super stuntin
Im always griindin so Im gettin money
Stick wit me and you'll go far
Dem otha chicks dey come a dime a dozen
You say dat you a G
Well nigga let me see
I'll take you places where you neva thought dat you would be
I got a sassy mouth
And yea I'm from da south
And you could tell because you see my ass and hips poked out
I'm best dressed no doubt
Lets go it aint no thang
Princess im da chick
And dont forget my name
And this here wont change
You betta sho respect
Or we'll really get it poppin
Jha Jha, Crime Mob, and Dipset
[Both Hooks once]
We Fly High lyrics - Jim Jones
[Chorus]
We fly high, no lie, you know this (Balling!)
Foreign rides, outside, it's like showbiz (We in the building)
We stay fly, no lie, you know this (Balling)
Hips and thighs, oh my, stay focus
[Verse 1]
Ya boy getting 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 (Balling!)
So we lean wit it, pop wit it (Bankhead)
Vertible Jones, mean wit the top listen (Flossing)
I'm saying clean wit bottom kit
(Do It)
I hoped out saggy, jeans and my rock glistening (Balling!)
But I spent bout 8 grand
Mami on stage doing 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 screaming fuck the cops (Do It)
[Chorus]
We fly high, no lie, you know this (Balling!)
Foreign rides, outside, it's like showbiz (We in the building)
We stay fly, no lie, you know this (Balling!)
Hips and thighs, oh my, stay focus
[Verse 2]
Slow down, tonight may be gone tomorrow (One Chance!)
So I spend through life like there's no tomorrow (Speeding!)
100 g's worth of ice on the auto? (Flossy)
And we in the street life until they call the law (Balling)
I made the whip get naked (What Happen?!)
While I switch gears, bitch looking at the bracelet (Got Em)
Step out, show me what your all about
Flashbacks of last night of me balling 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 something I was thinking about grub
So I stumbled to the car, threw the drinks and the drugs (Twisted)
[Chorus]
We fly high, no lie, you know this (Balling)
Foreign rides, outside, it's like showbiz (We in the building)
We stay fly, no lie, you know this (Balling)
Hips and thighs, oh my, stay focus
[Verse 3]
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 they curb
But I know a G Bent may sound obsurb (Get Your Money Up)
Drive 80 up Lennox cause I got on urge (Speeding)
The rap game like the crack game
Lifestyles, rich and famous living in the fast lane (Balling!)
So when I bleep shorty bleep back
Loui Vuitton Belt where I'm keep all the heat strapped
I beat the trial over rucker (Let's Do It)
All guns loaded in the back motherfucker (Dipset)
[Chorus]
We fly high, no lie, you know this (Balling!)
Foreign rides, outside, it's like showbiz (We in the building) [2x]
We stay fly, no lie, you know this (Balling!)
Hips and thighs, oh my, stay focus
You niggas need to stay focus
When your dealing wit a motherfucking G
You know my name, Jones, One Eye, Capo Status
Only above motherfucker
This Dipset ByrdGang we born to fly
Ya'll know the rules fall back or fall back
Someone tell my bitch Summer I'm looking for her
Ya dig, another day another dollar
fast life fucker
Voicemail Skit lyrics - Jim Jones
[Operator:] Please enter your password.
beep beep beep beep beep
[Operator:] Your mailbox is completly full, please delete any unwanted messages.
Mainmenu to-
[Girl:] Jimmy, Jimmy I been callin you all muthafuckin day.
You on that Birdgame Dipset bullshit.
You got me real muthafuckin mad.
I went to the bathroom to rinse my muthafuckin mouth out
after suckin your muthafuckin dick and I find that you leave me a hundred dollars.
Whats up wit that bullshit you coulda least left me a muthafuckin?.
I ain't gettin shit out this muthafuckin relationship
but a muthafuckin dipset tattoo What the fuck is up with that?
I ain't fuckin with you no more.
But when you get this message call me.
Dipset bitch.
Love Of My Life lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Max B)
[Jim Jones]
They got us fuckin up a storm (fuckin)
Kush up till the morn (you know)
Breezin from the telly puffin marijuan (all night)
White t & my pelly (crispy) thuggin like la fonz (got it)
Made it rain on them bitches a bucket full of ones (ballin)
We got them gold diggers (what else)
Cold bitches that wanna party off patron liquor
Car hoppers the hard stoppers (you better watch em)
Catch 'em at the party call 'em bar hoppers (I see em)
We live up in the sky you call 'em star watchers
They chase dope boys trap stars with fast cars (ya benz)
And executives rap stars with black cars (imported)
So we could swipe it charge it to the game
Trips to M.I.A. Murcielago in the lane
[Chorus: Max B]
She's got a thing for slippin clique & goin clubbin at nights
Ain't nothin Like the love of my life
She likes the finer things & fuck with niggaz whose money is right
Ain't nothin Like the love of my life
She love the dick suck it till it cum
She say I'm the best fuck of her life
She give a nigga the energy he need whenever he feels nothin is right
[Jim Jones]
Now we in M.I. (sai pa say) party till the noon (ballin)
Hammers in the ride ferraris go zoom (speedin)
All types of incidentals (bottles) charges on my room (maxed out)
From last night buggin we mobbin with the goons (byrd gang)
We hit the town hard (zo pound) fuckin with the ladies (g-mackin)
Bottles of viva clique (twisted) puffin on the hazy (purple)
It's all deja vu (uh-huh) seen it all before (I seen it)
Got her in my drop heater on the floor (for real)
So I sped off from the spot (got her) gettin heady rock (right)
Got her in the telly she wouldn't let a nigga pop (stuntin on the cooch)
And when I woke all I seen was a note (what it said)
Nigga follow the trail & meet me in A-T-L (let's do it)
[Chorus]
[Jim Jones]
Now we pull up in the a (atl) shoppin in lenox mall (ballin)
Gotta get fly squad ready to ball (stay fresh)
We thinkin 112 (112) or maybe even visions (maybe visions)
Drinks at the bar like baby what you sippin (what you drinkin on)
Then she told me magic city (what) fat asses & they pretty (strippers)
They got me blowin thousands throwin stacks by the fifty (I need singles)
Got some bitches out of strokers (fuck em) gotta get focus (stay focused)
I'm tryin to play my cards like a game of strip poker (place ya bet)
Flight up in the mornin (aw man) gotta get up on her (I got a hour)
When I leave you can tell ya friends about my performance (call me baby)
And all the time M.O.B. on my mind (uh-huh)
The weekend was nice baby but I'm back to N.Y. (21st)
[Chorus]
Weatherman lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Lil Wayne, Stack Bundles)
[Jim Jones]
This is 9 tre news I'm Jimmy Jones here with your weather
We apologize for the drout all week but it looks like thunderstorms
all weekend. We fitting to make it rain on you motherfuckers (Ya Heard Me)
[Chorus 2X: Stack Bundles]
Look Weatherman with that money I make it rain on 'em
Weatherman with that paper I make it rain on 'em
Weatherman with that kitty I make it rain on 'em (YEAH)
I make it rain on 'em (YEAH) I make it rain on 'em (YESIR)
[Jim Jones]
I'm Rick James I'm rich bitch is what I tell 'em
Just left the bank I took 50 from the teller (CashMoney)
I'm fitting to make it rain so get you an umbrella
We also make it snow we cocaine gram sellers (That Yayo)
Balling getting high dolla's falling from the sky (balling)
Big reefer cloud got in storming inside (drizzling)
Foreign outside I'm usually foreign when I drive (Speeding)
A buck sixty feels like you soaring in the sky
Blowing money on the liqiour (Twisted)
At the strip joint blowing money on the bitches (Let it rain)
We standing on the bar throwing money like a pitcher (Get money)
But nigga I ain't slipping got a fully-loaded trigga
And that can cause a heatwave (get you clapped haa)
That mean you digging you a deep grave
Nigga's Jump yo ass have 'em missing you for 3 days (Where he at?)
Cam says that this nigga's a sucker (fareaal)
So that mean that this nigga's a sucker (Ya heard that? Capo)
[Chorus 2X: Jim Jones]
I'm the, Weatherman with that money I make it rain on 'em (Balling)
Weatherman with that paper I bought a range on 'em (Capo)
20 grand worth uh money I bought champagne (Do it)
I make it rain on 'em (Do it) Make it rain on 'em (Do it)
[Lil Wayne]
Wezzy fucking baby, Get 'em a leash
Young money Dipset you better believe
That gun got me walking like I got irregular knees
I be all over the bread like sesomi seeds
Auto-matic with the money like Reggi for 3 (laughing)
Big birds no Sesame Street, Bitch!
I'm to clean they ain't messing with me
I'm just trying to see my decimals speak
Now these niggas just lighter then some good shit to me (OK)
These niggas sweet like a taheshin treat (OK)
They say I'm full of hot air then I release the heat
Split a nigga from his teeth to feet (Damn)
Know what I'm talking about
I'm kinda mean like Keak the Sneak
I go dollar for dollar, week for week (Yeah)
And Birdman said you niggas is bitches
So that mean you niggas is bitches, And Me?
[Chorus: Lil Wayne]
I'm the Weatherman with that money I make it rain on 'em
Weatherman with that paper I make it rain on 'em
Still Balling after the hurricane
I'm the weatherman with that money I make it rain on 'em
[Chorus: Stack Bundles]
Weatherman with that money I make it rain on 'em
Weatherman with that paper I make it rain on 'em (Yesir)
Weatherman with that kitty I make it rain on 'em (Yeah)
I make it rain on 'em (Yeah) I make it rain on 'em (Yeah)
[Stack Bundles]
Look!
Nothing changed I'm shot calling like I'm suppose to be
Shot calling like I'm suppose to be
I spoil her like she close to me (Yeah)
Find something bad bag her like groceries
Lifestyles like Six Flags I'm rollercoasterlly
Pockets full of kitty, these niggas ain't getting money like I was
I make it rain on em, they calling scattered showers (WHAT)
I'm the motherfucking Weatherman (Yeah)
Tornado money can't fit it in a rubber band (Naah)
Check the news It's going be a cloudy forecast (And what)
And when I move a couple goons in that R Class (Yesir)
She want a Doughboy nigga that do numbers
A smile like lightning and a ass like thunder (Yeah)
I Shows out and the whores all love it (Love it)
And when it stop drizzling the floors all flooded (Yessir)
In one night blew bezzle on charm money
Fuck it it's nothing I'm still spending Desert Storm money
[Chorus - Stack Bundles 'til fade]
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