Voicemail Skit lyrics - Jim Jones

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[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]

Don't Push Me Away lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Rell)

Now don't push me away, cuz when the first time I met you girl you shook me in ways

You know the life of a nigga's cookin' up yay,

And because you knew the pitfalls and the tumbles of the game

You've seen the spotlight watch niggas fallin' to the fame

And all the time you tried to tell me to stay hungry and maintain

When I was like lets go half on a baby, and if not then lets go half on a 'cedes

Drop top coup while we pumpin' sweet sadie

Flyin' up Lennox, doin' us, pushin' 80

The late nights, the road trips got you pissed

The road trips, the late nights got us rich

The clothes that we wear, the place that we piss

Run and get shot, we ain't what we sit

So if I don't get a chance to tell you

Now too often girl your hand so helpful

In this cold world girl every man needs help too

So baby Im'a ride and no plans to fail you

Please, baby don't push me away

I want you (I want your love beside me baby)

(Please) Please, baby don't push me away

Cuz I need you (Cuz I need you)

I had enough of the shucking and jiving, duckin' and hidin'

I'm tryin' to get to conversation and ridin' (Well)

Cuz I'm feelin' your essence your presence is just enough to let me know that its destined

And since the day that I found you, there's something about you that makes me want to lose it and pounce

ya

But it's not just your body, it's your mind, your spirit, everything combined

And while I got a chance, take my hand and let me show you something real, that love you can feel (Yeah)

Please, baby don't push me away

I want you (I want your love beside me baby)

(Please) Please, baby don't push me away

Cuz I need you (Cuz I need you)

Uh, now two years done passed, few cheers, few laughs

Coppin' Vs, shoppin' sprees gears in the bags

And who cares who's near, cuz most of the bitches would just say you was there for the cash

And I ain't scared of your past, I prepare for the future

The one thing I ask is just don't tear a nigga coup up

You brang the bail when I was caged up

And back and forth the court to the lawyer now we case shut

You found the numbers in my phone, you was my face but

You know what they say the break ups to make ups

And I admit I'm getting better with the flirtin',

You know you dead sexy when you yellin' and you cursin'

You such a hell of a person so when I get home I'm gonnna tell you in person

Face to face, Im'a run base to base,

And then Im'a slide home safe till I make yo body shake

You tell me every night that life comes with a twist

That I'm in the spotlight and I'm runnin' the risk

Hey you always say love don't come with a kiss

Its hard soakin' up game when its comin' from a bitch

But where's my manners, never take you for granted

Never take you advantage, most people don't understand it

Is you happy? Look inside humor,

When you and I together what the fuck they gonna do wit us

Say ya prayer cuz we destined for glory,

And when the credits roll its Harlem's West Side Story

My vision of the lovin' is close,

That's how I want us to be when we doin our thing (Well)

Kissin' ya, lickin' ya, touchin' ya, rubbin' ya, tell me how you want me to bring it

Because I know he got limits but baby I don't, and my feelins they won't

Let you get away from me, come stay with me

Baby, Baby, Pleeaaaassseee

Baby don't push me away (When the sunshine)

When the sunshine turn to rain, baby I can take away your pain

(I can take away your pain)

Just call me up when you need some time, I'll take you out, break you off like

Daddy come on

You don't have to settle for less and baby I can give you what you want

(I can give you what you want)

Just call me up when you need some time, and you can get it from me just like

Daddy come on

Shit, so don't push me away

Pour Wax lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Hell Rell)

[Jim Jones]

You're reign on the top, short like Leprechauns

I came through in drops, Porches and heavy charms

I came from the block, the slums wit ex-con's

And we aimin' them glocks of course ready to bomb

Now I done seen a Custy' cop four pies of the same gear

Also seen a nigga cop four rides in the same year

This concrete jungle, no trees to swing from

This weed and gettin drunk and heaters gettin dumped

Hit the highway nigga ki's up in the trunk

Back up in the city with some skeezas in the trunk

I aint a player but I do my dirt dog

Drop top 'Cedes better move when it merk off

It got me swingin to the left lane

Plus a nigga caughin 'cause the haze give me chest pain

Yes motha fucka the boys is back

With my vest and I'm tucked up with my boys in back

[Chorus: Jim Jones]

You dont want it with them niggaz

While you niggaz steady bitching my niggaz gettin' richer

You mad 'cause we ballin'

Bet you mad 'cause we scorin

If he get out of line put his punk ass in a coffin

Nigga we a ragime, Byrdgang we the truth

Keep a foriegn sedan or swirvin' in the coupe

Oakwood in the interior, swade on the roof

Now shoot, {Bang, Bang} shoot {Bang, Bang}

[Hell Rell]

Aw man Hell Rell, he on the same bullshit agiain

Same black hoody{Yup}, same fo' fifth again

Bithes stopped likin' me but now they on my dick again

Seen me in the Ashton with my glistinin'

Yea I'm bustin off the chrome

Yea I'm 'bout to off your dome

Kill the mother and the father, kids go to foster homes

Yea I like to floss the chrome, nigga leave the boss alone

See my neck and my wrist, I'm rockin' what it costs for homes

Homie they dont call me ruger for nothing

Back out on theese bitch niggaz get that ruger to dumpin'

Dont run up on me nigga you know I stay with it

G'd up from the beef and brock's to the Oakland A's fitted

That's the bottom to the top, it's in the bottom of the pot

I got it white, I got it tan, it's either you copin' or you not

Nigga jets is pullin' off and you stuck in the current

D.I.P., B.G., fuck what you heard

[Chorus]

[Jim Jones]

We all strapped in the ride, I aint talkin' like the elderly

Yac'ed when we drive like a rollin fuckin' felony

Trapped to survive, get the bucks, sell them ki's

It's hard to get by that's why we puff hell'a'weed

But if this high dont come down

I feal the world spinnin' like the sky gon' come down

I need air top of the ride gon' come down

And i swear I stay fly when I jump out

Jewled up in ice like what that dude like

Spider four thirty with the blue'ish lights

Got the coupe bright, still shoot dice

For my niggaz on the east side this is true life

[Chorus]

Don't Forget About Me lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Max B)

[Chorus 2X: Max B & Jim]

BYRD GANG WE GET MONEY....

WE WON'T STOP, WE DESTINED TO BLOW

I'MA TAKE MY NIGGAZ AND BITCHES WHEREVER I GOOOO

SO DON'T FORGET ABOUT ME, DON'T FORGET ABOUT MEEEE....

I KNOW I KNOOOOOOW

[Verse One]

Now due to me (JONES!)

Me and my truancy (NINE TREY!)

Running through the streets since early puberty! (YOUNG NIGGAZ!)

What influenced me (let em know)....it was the jewelry

Tryna get cash so I can do it like the older G's (BALLIIIING!)

The 80's...big thick rope chains

life was all crazy getting rich off cocaine (TRUE STORY NIGGA)

...so I been caught up dog, nothing like Usher (no).....

more like a hustler (yep)

all night with customers, tryna get my paper up (right)

Jealousy, envy....gotta watch, they'll spray you up

But it was something bout the gun play....

rolling dice on blocks, double parked up on a one way (TRIPS NIGGA!)

And breaking law was the norm' (yep), the club break about 4 in the morn'd

So we parking lot pimp, hit the diner for some grub

The squad type thick you know I'm rolling with the thugs

[Chorus]

[Verse Two]

Now as I roll up my window (R-Class), blaze up the indo (that purple!)....

get tore down for my homies in the pen (miss you Zeke)

I'm ma take you the Cali with me (WESTSIDE!)....

know ya dress code, heavy sag on ya Dickies (B'S & C'S!)

You catch me out in Houston, and usually we can slow it up (slow motiooon)

And get screwed, get a deuce and we can throw it up!

ATL sharp, if you balling and you make it rain (BALLIIIING!)

"I'm in love with a stripper", alcohol on ya brain

Fast track life, the shit is uncanny (I LOVE IT)

When it come to birds fly south to Miami (OPIUM!)

Weather like 80 (sunny), drop-top Mercedes (BALLIN)

"Sai Pa Say", on the block in Little Haiti

Chicago is the wolves, the bears, and the gangster's (you hear that?)

2 12'N with the OG's, tryna get the answers

And all these O. T trips got me tired

drive the wheels til they fall off

and I just bought some new tires

[Chorus]

I Know lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Chink Santana)

(What you learn in jail you can't learn in the street that's learnin patients

I just finished doin 10 years up north.

I just came home from doin 10 years.

I done did 10 years staight I went in 16 came home 26.

I Gave the system about 15 years of my life.

I gave these crackers man 17 years of my life man

The prison system gave me 15 to life and I gave'em back 10.)

God forgive me for my worldly ways

Hit the street at a early age tryn to come up off the pearly yay

The late nights to the early days all a nigga knew is street life

Young G's beneth the street lights try not to catch street strikes

You better run you see police lights these nights (Squala)

I'm hated by few loved by many

Getttin faded with the crew gettin buzzed off henny

Now the liquer got my mind runnin

They say we ballin but the times runnin so I'm tryin to beat the shot clock

Winter time heated seats on the drop top

Dinner time we gone eat when the block hot

Shit well who gone stop us A grew of mobsters and we lueger poppers

Till we subdued by coppers

Loyalty is everything so all my niggas know they can call on me for anything

(I served 10 years straight up um in them 10 years I lost everything I loved my pops my moms

Can you just imagine goin to jail in 1989 and them tellin you your release date is on febuary 2004 that Shit is crazy

I gave the prison system a decade 10 years of my life)

I can't call it cause I might spoil it I'm two sips from being alcoholic

In my hood that the nights chourus and this toast goes to lifes losses and all my soilders livin life lawless

Not worried what it might cost us And fuck the price brought us vvs on white flawless ain't nothin fresher than my white forces more than white forces they on our back like christ crosses

I'm extra large due to success try to nail me for a weapon charge due to my rep try tell me take a plea bargin fuck it so I tell'em take that plea bargin shove it and Fuck the chip it's like the worlds on my shoulders we cop bricks and mix the girl with the soda sit it the pot let twirl with the water if you got a weak stomach you might hurl from the odor

(We were just bad to the bone we were gangsta so we never did get a chance to prove to anybody how much good we had inside of us all they heard about was how drive bys and how many guns and how much dope we had so they never gave us the chance to figure out what was good about us)

[Chorus:]

You ani't got tell me about ccomin from nothin cause I know were livin in the fast lane my nigga sometimes it gets slow yeah heard that we be hustlen tryin to make it but steady strugglin, but you ain't gotta tell me about comin from nothin cause I know.

There's a war goin on outside no man is safe

Watch the snitches cause they close by

And tell my niggas keep there hopes high

I got vision goin multi

My eye sight is like 20/20 and hine sights like 20/20

And limelight is every bit of envy

Watch the snakes cause they gettin friendly

Watch the jakes cause they tryin to end me

[Chorus]

My Life lyrics - Jim Jones

[Jim Jones: Talking]

Uh huh

We back

We still on the streets

Rap game is now the crack game

Watch out for them rap police

[Verse 1: Jim Jones]

The rap police is on my ass

Searchin for the ratchet

Im stepping on the gas while im swirving through the traffic

Watching the sun rise, twisting on the grass

Money on my mind, got me thinking bout the cash

Cuz i heard the plottin one

You gotta have your paper right

they knocking at the door

im hoping they dont weigh tonight

we moves pies

trying to get the treasures,

Plush rides

getting high till the FBI come and get us

And we hit them clubs in the city

Now i got the thugs and all the drug dealers with me

virgin on the bottles

hope the groupies follow

im tryin to slide baby beeze?

The life styles of the thugs

young rich and famous

Give a fuck about the judge

we runnin from arraignments

speeding through life at a fast pace

so i pray to god tonight and im hoping i dont catch a case

[Chorus:]

Trying ride the wave in a deep sea

cuz i like to spend my life, my life, my life, my life

ducking dt's in the z3 or the gt this is bg

Trying ride the wave in a deep sea

cuz i like to spend my nights, my nights, my nights, my nights

ducking dt's in the z3 or the gt this is bg

[Verse 2:]

Now i aint sleep about a week

but 7 Day theory

Im gunning in the streets everyday is getting scary

And any minute meet the queens with the reefer

but we gotta stay alive getting fadedd of the reefer

Liquor, no chaser, shits gettin major

fucking with the guns gotch ya nigga all chased up

Itd for the thrill so we do it for the love of it

Like oh what a feeling mother fucker when we thuggin it

[?] Mob, true to stay free

Free to cop a ride, hundred thousand on the V

Wallin in the whip, lets talk politics

they say niggas from new york is saw by the flip

Got gas in the range, cash on the ring

and im flying up lennox fast in the lane

They say its all up in the streets

rying to make a million while im dodging from police

Mother fucker

[Chorus]

[Outro:]

Pay attention while i mention

that the birdgang is on the move

while you talking here we walking

like the way you want to do

we dem rock stars, keep dem hot cars

and a hot one for you ladies,

just griding for all the paper we can get up out this game

Concrete Jungle lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Max B, Rell, Dr. Ben Chavis, Noe)

Yo, it definitely is a concrete jungle

And yet, there's more to life than misery

We have to have unity in our community

We have to work together brothers and sisters (I'm from the ghetto)

Yeah this is Dr. Ben, I'm with Jim Jones (Lord knows, I was on the run confused)

DipSet forever (shit)

We're talking about a concrete jungle (yeah it sure is a jungle)

Life or Death, you have to choose life (I done seen it all, at least I think I seen it all)

[Verse 1]

I'm with my concrete jungle, no Tarzans and Janes (no swinging from vines)

Diesel by the bundles, and the hard grams of 'caine (we on our grind)

D's when they come through; it's hard to get some change

Smoking weed getting drunk, in the car for a flame (slow down nigga)

Yeah I see the traffic, but we dipping on the shoulder (break laws)

Winter start to set in, it's only getting colder (dress warm)

And I miss you all my political soldiers

Most are doing life for moving bricks or doing hold-ups

Damn I know we caught up in the fast life

Some life a fiend when they caught up on the glass pipe (we pookie out here)

Me, I'm still caught up from last night

Same clothes from the club, on the block getting cash right (I'm on my G though)

Damn, you know this world full of misery (pray for me)

Some get tore up 'til they hurl off the liquor B (gettin twisted)

Somebody told me that the girls need the chivalry (fuck a bitch)

That's why I cop ice 'til they ass get the shivers B

[Chorus]

Ain't nothing sweet living in this ghetto (ain't nothing sweet about it)

Been there, done that, running in the streets (running wild)

Now put your lighters to your head, nigga ride

I'm trying to make the most of my hustler (I gotta hustle)

Been there, done that, so I can live out all my dreams (live out my dreams)

Now put your lighters to your head, nigga ride

[Verse 2]

For the coke I would sleep hard

But the game drove me nuts, in the streets, I'm a full-fledged retard

Was the city block overseer

Man your life is Chuck E. Cheese, mine is a pizzeria

How many pies I done flipped?

I lost count

How many guys I done gave shit?

I lost count

Holding, but I can't ignore cheating

Any day your life could be the hot topic at that board meeting

They discussing who'll stretch you for your trees

For your thievery, you living, you breathing for no fucking reason

That's how it is when you make a man

That's why your man's gotta learn to make himself

Then you shake his hand

Man, I'm into catching heavy clams

And when Dezzy cans when it comes to dumping I got heavy hands

Ain't gonna be right for your picking jet

This is ours, the square is where we eat, this our kitchenette

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]

I let my temper hit the floor

I be staring through the mirror as I serenade my halls

I'm fond of the juices that marinate they drawers

My shorty, she bank a carrot with the four, cause

If you take us out, the streets will evolve

Some niggaz they live to eat, some niggaz eat to survive

And my conscience keep disturbing me, fucking with my energy

Niggaz that I thought was friends, really the enemy

Dear Lord please grant me the serenity

To accept the things that I cannot change

Locked up for eight years and ain't join no gangs

Been converted to true nigga, I'm as real as they come

And any moment I have you staring the barrel of my gun

Put my dick up in the streets, but I'm married to the slums

Put the chips up in the ante and tally up the sum

I'm having fun, hitting the fiends in the allies with some jums

[Chorus]

Alright, yeah but in choosing life, you got choices (oh yeah)

The jungle is full of everything

It's the mother and the father of creation (ain't nothing sweet about it)

But listen up, you have to choose something for yourself

Do something for yourself, make something of yourself

That's what time it is (don't let go)

Go strong, be strong, stand for something in life (all my young soldiers)

Yeah, concrete jungle

I can feel it, I can smell it (sometimes it gets hard)

Jim Jones is spitting truth, the power (don't let 'em pull your car over)

Now and forever more

Making life the way it should be

Ain't nothing sweet about it

Make me want to scream and shout it

But I know I got to hold on, and just roll on

Fucks With You lyrics - Jim Jones (feat. Max B, Stack Bundles)

Yeah, it's ya boy...I'm back Byrd Gang

Another rap extravagance classic for you niggaz

[Chorus: Max B]

WE TRYNA GET PAAAID, CAN I GET SOME BUCKS WITH CHUUUUUU?

GET BLAAAZED, CAN I HIT FROM STUFF WITH CHUUUUUU?

GET BRAAAINS, NIGGA I FUCKS WITH CHUUUUU....

CAUSE WE THEM NIGGAZ YOU LOVING!

WE FUCKS WITH EXPENSIVE HOEEEEEEES....THE BIRD SWANG

AS FAR AS EXPENSIVE CLOTHEEEEEES....IT'S BYRD GANG

NIGGA WE GETTING THIS DOOOOOOOOOOUGH.....

CAUSE WE THEM NIGGAZ YOU LOVING!

[Stack]

If trap is the way out then y'all niggaz stuck there (for' real)

Coffee shops the only way you see Starbucks here (for' real)

And I'm a different story (ha!), feeling out of line

in that deuce so I think I need a whole different story!

Can't judge a book by it's cover

comes to yay you can't judge a brick by it's color (what!)

You only know if it's butter when you put it in the raw

and that watch ain't flooded if you still see the border

If he doesn't hustle, somebody around him does

And if he ain't homie, somebody around him cuz

(Cause?) Cause gangster ain't easily portrayed (nah)

Death before dishonor niggaz easily betrayed

Same niggaz from the sandbox, I bought drops (drops)

One year or two times we can watch the ball drop (ball drop)

We by-coastal you niggaz ain't playing right (nah)

Drive-by and toast you, you niggaz ain't spraying right

[Chorus]

[Max B]

Five seven with thirty five homie pitch a buck

Hit the club with the bitches, ma ain't the only one to fuck

Cause my BG's so prolific, you sluts can do whatever

I'm abusing my name buzzing from Brooklyn to Bermuda

Nigga's caught him slipping again, he ain't never shoot us

Bigga caught up pimping again and he ain't neva Scooba

Thousand dollar bags of Buddha, I drop back on my scooter

my Ruger'll do ya like they did Martin Luther Jr

A lil bigger rocking some shoes thinking that they cushy

Lil niggaz got it confused thinking I'm a pussy

Watch how I scream with the team cause the clock is ticking

I gotta lean when I squeeze cause the glock be kicking

I be blowing on the stank, blowing on the dank

my quarter across the border I ordered what it drink

Got ya daughter caught up in loops all up in the lane

All in the paint, we balling and caught up in the mix.....OWWW

[Chorus]

[Jones]

We do it to the death, a hundred hoopties I done wrecked (Capo!)

I got a bitchy attitude but stay super duper fresh (stay fly!)

My shooters do the rest (bang bang), put the product on the curb

if I'm not out of town I'm up in Harlem on the curb

Or handling B. I, in the office with my feet up

Stay running through the city, stay cautious if you see us

Been known for going hard, be flossing off the meter (balliiiiin!)

We gotta stay fly, Austin to the sneakers

I love the purple, stay coughing off the reefer (stay high)

Break the speed limit something sporty with a heater (speediiiiin!)

You fuckboys, you'll never be like us (not at all)

Stunting at the light, in a 07' Spyder

Behind the G-wall, I know several lifers (Eastside!)

Eight forty eights they was heavy in the Vipers (balliiiiin!)

Six forty five, cherry and it's piped up

The wrist forty five, chain heavy and it's iced up

[Chorus]

Harlem: Diary Of A Summer (2005)

• My Diary
• Zeke (Interlude)
• G's Up
• J.I.M.M.Y.
• What Is This
• Honey Dip
• Ride Wit' Me
• Penitentiary Chances
• We Just Ballin
• What You Been Drankin On?
• Harlem
• Confront Ya Babe
• Summer Wit' Miami
• I'm In Love With A Thug
• Tupac Joint
• Baby Girl 

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

On My Way To Church (2004)

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