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5:15 | 
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| from Jim Jones - Pray IV Reign (2009) | |||||
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from The Game - Charge It To The Game/ The Mixtape (2005)
I Made You!
Yes I Made You! Mr. Potatohead I Made You! I Made You! I Made You! I Made You! Mr. Potatohead I Made You! Theres no batteries in my back I show you niggas how I move (Move Echo) 50 ain't gangsta Lloyd Banks ain't gangsta Yayo ain't gangsta Young Buck, you know you ain't gangsta You at what you niggas made Ain't that a bitch Created a monster Kicked me outta G-Unit Put me in converse Matter of fact give me a dick Just like Olivia so you can suck my shit Gimme a pen So I can be the hardest in the click Wind me up nigga then gimme some lips So I can talk about ya faggot Niggas aint no thugs While im at it tell Young Buck gimme some white gloves So I can cover my fingerprints in ya blood I need a get away car you can put it on dubs Make sure its got a stash for the 38 snub And a Banks album cuz thats where I got my buds Gimme muscles like 50 Gimme Yayo hands Gimme a collection plate for Ma$e fans Gimme some glasses so I can watch Mason dance Who movin? You singing? Nigga gimme ya fans Gimme a tattoo tear Gimme some ears so i can hear police talkin when you disappear I made you I made you I made you I made you Mr. Potato Head I Made you Yes, I Made you Mr. Potato Head I Made you! I Made you I Made You! Mr. Potato Head I Made you! (You Echo) Theres no batteries in my back I show you niggas how I move. Yayo: And I'd like to thank game cuz hes mr potato head of the year, 'n' you kn.. a put together gangsta! Rolling through Connecticut In a stolen mini-van Stop at his house I dont see many men Matter of fact I dont see any men One plain clothed cop call him Lieutenant Dan Officer why ya man tryna beat up my fans? Makin me 5 times platinum wasnt part of his plan Same shit same snitch You know how it goes I smell a rat even if you take off my nose And i bet every quarter in your piggy bank Lloyd told N.Y.P.D. who got 50 shanked Next time when the lights go out I'm pulling a desert eagle when the knives come out Watch that man get ta tussling and the mice run out Don't gamble with ya life when my dice roll out I made you I made you I made you I made you I made you Mr Potato Head I Made you! Yes I Made you Mr Potato Head I Made you! I Made you! I Made You! Mr Potato Head I Made you! Theres no batteries in my back I show you Niggas how I move (Move Echo) 50 aint gangsta Lloyd Banks aint gangsta Yayo aint gangsta Young Buck you know you aint gangsta (Phat Rat talks) G-G-G-G-G.... NOT! You bitch ass niggas Check this out man I'm not gonna be playing these mother fucking games Mr. Potato head now you wanna be a comedian nigga This shit is R-E-A-L nigga! Real nigga Black wall street Wait wait Like I told you last time It's THE black wall street you bitch ass nigga And Oliv... Excuse me OLIVER! You punk mother fucker I'm still taking heat from my niggas For looking at your mother fuckin' ass nigga You somebodys son You bitch ass Nigga I'ma catch up to your ass nigga Muscle mouth ass bitch Thats alright though nigga G-U-Not nigga This is black wall street nigga Tell me where you at Thats all we need to know nigga Cus this is real nigga This is the streets nigga Brazil & Wilmington nigga In case you didn't know nigga Thats right in the heart of COMPTON You Bitch ass nigga And Olivia Get that mother fucking lil' ass red Mother fucking shorts off your mother fucking ass on that video Everybody can you see your balls bitch ' The fuck is wrong with you My Niggas know I tried to holla at your bitch ass nigga Ima fuck you up nigga It's your fault 50 Snitch This is Phat Rat nigga In case you forgot nigga Double! Mr. Potatohead I Made You! I kill who is my enemy I don't give a fuck If you talk shit I make you a follower yeah You crack me up kid Your stupid I'm much more agile then ever Got more style so yo whatever Whatever Whatever (Echoes) |
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3:42 |
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from Jim Jones - Pray IV Reign (2009)
You know, everybody expect a baller but I'm like
Why you worried about balling, 'cause I am balling I'm just ready to blow the bank on you, girl You know, we just splashing them this year It's all about that splash life I still live the fast life, I blow the bank though I got at place in mind, for my move to LA Or my mansion in NJ, we can party in the sky Where you wanna go? From Manhattan to my hood Where my money's never good We can spend it playa, tell me what you want Trying to scoop something nice (Fly, girl) Trying to put you on the flight I'm a jumper, we can do Aruba tonight Or we can jump in the coupe and just shoot for the night She was dancing in the club with her pumps in her hand Trying to tell her that The Trump was the plan Trying to get her out of the club And have her jump in the Lamb (Murcielago) Konichiwa, we can jump to Japan (You like sushi?) Or we can just do the tropics We need more problems cause the money ain't the object Probably get mad cause the smokes in the cockpit (So what?) Chest cold as a froze up locket I wanna blow the bank with you Spending all that money, spending all that cash I wanna blow the bank with you Spending all that money, spending all that cash, let's go In Atlanta, popped up like a toaster (I'm burnt out) Did Miami in the soft-top roadster (drop top) Rose champs, spilling drinks on the sofa (Champaign don't stain) Thank God for the chauffeur Where to little lady? She's my designated driver Bad little B, like the destiny survivor (She's a dime) We can see the sun rise up Speeding to the room in the V getting highed up (Hit that, hit that) Or we can jump through the block Brand new whip, so you can jump through the top Hop out like who got bank Then we blow it all cause you know we gonna ball I wanna blow the bank with you Spending all that money, spending all that cash I wanna blow the bank with you Spending all that money, spending all that cash |
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4:17 |
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| from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007) | |||||
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from The Game - Charge It To The Game/ The Mixtape (2005)
[Intro: G.A.M.E. (Jim Jones)]
(R.I.P Eazy-E)That Westside(Capo), that city where them tec's fly(Dip-set!) We ride in that Westside(Eastside), that no seeds in our stress side(Lets ride) [Verse 1: G.A.M.E.] Jim Jones swirvin, I got that purple I'm blowed Tight grip on the Escalade pole Yeah, Harlem's jus' like Compton, that's jus' how I roll Red bandana wrapped around the chrome .44 Gun smokin' like Suge cigar Show me how you stunt you thrown outta movin' car If that thing come out, its murder she wrote If Doc come out, its 30 Impalas on the boat Nigga, we do this everyday Llamas under the thermul, waitin' by ya stairs like Mary J Beat niggaz ride dirty like Jazze Pha, Cassius Clay Knock a nigga out on the ave today Bring the mack ya way me and Santana Blowin' in the crowd like Donnie Hathaway Westside blood-gang, niggaz know what I'm about And they know I'm ruff ridin' so they knockself out [Chorus: Bezel] Now I ride with my vest, .45 and my tech Big 4 in the '64, like I'm in the West Not petrified to put 5 in ya chest Cause, we Certified Gangstas Stash the mill' in the house And I kill in the drowt That's the chill, when I pump, get it crunk in the South Icegrill, like a nice meal in my mouth Cause, we Certified Gangstas |
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5:55 |
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from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007)
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) <i>[Verse 1]</i> 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 <i>[Chorus]</i> 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 <i>[Verse 2]</i> 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 <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Verse 3]</i> 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 <i>[Chorus]</i> 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 |
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4:08 |
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from Cam'Ron - S.D.E (2000)
Man I fucked alotta bitches man (true)
Made a lotta money (true) Made a lotta enemies (true) Would I do this shit all over again, I dunno That's a good question, would you do your life over again? (You right about that) I know I fuck fat ass Tasha one more time if I have nothing else to do I fuck that bitch one more time, that ass was fat (Verse 1) Yo, shorty get a desk and chair Now wit the guess appear But if you knew my life you'd shed a tear where From the fucked up scar to the tough luck bar To my cousin fightin chapters in a crushed up car I handled live beef from the pluriel I beef Capeshe a few cats tried to muirelize me (for what) Cause I drive a fresh benz and collect ends But I lost brothers some best friends Word life, we all bredgren But we all speak and nobody budgin Cause we all stubbrin Yeah, we let the hate rise Give each other fake fives Look back periphieal give each other snake eyes True in all sequals (true) You too of all people Guess they right money is the root of all people A nigga front on them though I triggered at em' I don't know Big it's just the type of nigga I am I live my life a thug Live my life wit drugs (drugs) Fuck everybody else I live my life for Blood So Lexus, Moff I got's to keep Triste near Cause Blood suppost to be here (cause blood suppost to be here) (Chorus) When comes a song All those crimes we've done All those times was fun but would you do it again? When comes a song All those crimes we've done All those times was fun but would you do it again? (Verse 2) Uh, One of my worst fears, is being stuffed in a hearse Six feet deep being crushed my the earth Bury me wit rings so when I'm plucked from the earth Every mothafucka see how much it was worth (we makin money) Oh you stressin my best misjudgin of my worst And all my life put in nothin but work Y'all talk about how I was such a big flirt I never slowed down cause I was fuckin wit skirts I mean since the early days I was cuttin from church Y'all talk about things I've done to my life You talk about things that I've done to my wife I know where I'm going so I can come in a cris'is I do this for my niggas, who never get no chedder For my niggas up state, that'll never get a letter For my vitally sick, that would never get no better For my niggas in the cold, that would never get a sweater For the life I lead, things I done A nigga went to school I had to bring my gun A nigga had to hustle I had to slung them drums (I feel you man) As the man of the house I had to bring income (Chorus) When comes a song All those crimes we've done All those times was fun but would you do it again? When comes a song All those crimes we've done All those times was fun but would you do it again? (Verse 3) Yo, this life I should rock again? (huh) Stand on this mothafuckin block again? Almost get shot again (it was tough out there yo) See alotta men get shot up bad Back up hobbilin sista out gossipin (get em' to the hospital) So I don't rhyme for excutives It's imparitive do it for my jailberg consecutives Get my messages, hell no Or my block nigga never live, one room 7 kid Screamin mother overhead two plates, one fork sour milk and a loaf of bread But I shook it off smiled of course kid My girl wildout on some child support shit I'm out exhausted obselete y'all (y'all) But girls will flip like Dominique Daws I'm not here to teach yall, just here to reach yall If I do my life over, I repeat all (Chorus) When comes a song All those crimes we've done All those times was fun, but would you do it again? When comes a song All those crimes we've done All those times was fun but would you do it again? (repeat 2 times) |
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4:49 |
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from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007)
<i>[Chorus 2X: Max B & Jim]</i>
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 <i>[Verse One]</i> 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 <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Verse Two]</i> 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 <i>[Chorus]</i> |
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4:50 |
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from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007)
Now don't push me away 'cause 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 let's 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 road trips, the late nights 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 lately girl how your hand so helpful In this cold world girl every man needs help too So baby, I'ma ride and no plans to fail you Please, baby, don't push me away I want you Please, baby don't push me away I need you I had enough of the shucking and jiving, duckin' and hidin' I'm tryin' to get to conversation and ridin' 'Cause I'm feelin' your essence your presence Is just enough to let me know that it's 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 Please, baby, don't push me away I want you Please, baby don't push me away 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 'cause 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, I'ma run base to base And then I'ma 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 It's hard soakin' up game when it's 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 'cause we destined for glory And when the credits roll it's 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 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 feelin's they won't Let you get away from me, come stay with me Baby, baby, please, baby, don't push me away When the sunshine turn to rain Baby, 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 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 |
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4:19 |
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| from Dj Greg Street, Dj Kay Slay - The Champions : North Meets South (2006) | |||||
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4:46 |
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from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007)
Cold sweats from bad dreams
I hope the Feds don't grab the team 'Cause we been labeled as the trouble makers We sell whole pies so you ain't got to cut the cake up Tell no lies, so the Lord come and take us Praise to Allah, hope the Lord He forsake us And outlaws is what it made us We live the fast life and so we ball out major Until I see a ribbon in the sky Cop plush cars put ribbons on the ride And due to my political ties I can't roll around without the drip in the ride 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 Nike Boy, you talk about my life here Fuck wit OG's 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 Put my emotions aside 'cause they can never take my alive I'm a ride and don't cry 'Cause momma raised hell of a thug And if I'm standing in front of the judge And guess what? He can never take me alive I'm a ride and don't cry 'Cause momma raised hell of a thug And if I'm standing in front of the judge 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 Bitches love it, niggas want it So bad they wanna take it but I kill 'em for it 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? Dough boys in the trap, where ya at? Coke dealer's in the hood, what's good? Boy getting them bricks with the stamp on the shit Well, come meet the man that's stamping them bricks Fly wit' the Byrds or lie wit' the dirt Your corpse, flies will emerge Put my emotions aside 'cause they can never take my alive I'm a ride and don't cry 'Cause momma raised hell of a thug And if I'm standing in front of the judge And guess what? He can never take me alive I'm a ride and don't cry 'Cause momma raised hell of a thug And if I'm standing in front of the judge They say your enemies is close, your friends even closer Listening to 'Pac up ten in the roaster And now do you wanna ride or die? Blowin' smoke in the air, getting high as the sky I'm drunk staring be, 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 And it'll all come back, like grams of the hard You heard of us, the murders, the most shady Been on the low lately, the Feds hate me They try to put cuffs on me and my assailants When I push fees through the streets, they be tailing They try to catch me out of bounds They know I got pistols if you catch me outta town A thug changes and love changes And since 9 11, the price of the drugs changes Put my emotions aside 'cause they can never take my alive I'm a ride and don't cry 'Cause momma raised hell of a thug And if I'm standing in front of the judge And guess what? He can never take me alive I'm a ride and don't cry 'Cause momma raised hell of a thug And if I'm standing in front of the judge |
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2:01 |
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| from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007) | |||||
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| from Juelz Santana - Final Destination (2004) | |||||
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4:16 |
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from Jim Jones - Pray IV Reign (2009)
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 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 Niggas 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' [Chorus] Frienemies [Repeat: x2] The ones you kept close The ones you love most Frienemies You know who you kiss You know who you lift This shit is getting scary Frenemies [Repeat: x2] The ones you kept secret You had plans to make it Frienemies I smell 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 quater 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, barude nuders You would be Judice But in the process Flew you in the world Put diamonds on your neck Like you were 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 talking 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 [Chorus] 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 50 You gotta stay on 50 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 trifling 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 |
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4:01 |
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from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007)
<i>[Jha Jha Verse]</i>
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 <i>[Hook (Jha Jha)]</i> 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 <i>[Hook (Jim Jones)]</i> 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) <i>[Jim Jones Verse]</i> 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 <i>[Both hooks]</i> <i>[Princess Verse]</i> 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 <i>[Both Hooks once]</i> |
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4:51 |
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| from Jim Jones - Pray IV Reign (2009) | |||||
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| from The Game - Charge It To The Game/ The Mixtape (2005) | |||||
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5:07 |
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| from Jim Jones - Pray IV Reign (2009) | |||||
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4:59 |
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from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007)
(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) <i>[Chorus:]</i> 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 <i>[Chorus]</i> |
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2:34 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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5:11 |
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| from Dj Greg Street, Dj Kay Slay - The Champions : North Meets South (2006) | |||||
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5:24 |
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from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007)
[Juelz Santana]
Yo who that [Ja] Me,it's Ja [Juelz Santana] Ja, Come in man What up Ja, what's poppin [Ja] What up Uncle Ju Ju You know Im five years old now right [Juelz Santana] Yeah I know man you gettin big tell me about it what's good [Ja] It's crazy man, you know my teacher had the nerve to ask me for your autograph [Juelz Santana] What, she asked for my autograph in the class [Ja] I had to tell her man im here to learn this aint the time or the place for that [Juelz Santana] you crazy man say word [Ja] word [Juelz Santana] you a trip lil nigga you know that, what you tell her after that [Ja] I said a dipset bitch [Juelz Santana] a a a, come on man you cant be doin it like that at five man, you got to get another decade with you at least [Ja] you know that you the only thing they talk about in my school [Juelz Santana] word [Ja] not cause you that nigga [Juelz Santana] why [Ja] but bacause im that nigga Click to learn more... CLICK ABOVE TO VISIT OUR SPONSORS you all i talk about [Juelz Santana] that's what's up that's what's up [Ja] some of the kids can hardly talk [Juelz Santana] yeah word [Ja] there fore you gotta make it happen know what im talkin bout [Juelz Santana] yeah yeah i know what you talkin about nigga i know [Ja] word uncle Ju Ju [Juelz Santana] yo man come on man you gotta stop with that uncle Ju Ju shit man know what i mean [Ja] that's what i call you, that's what ima keep callin you and let everybody else call you Juelz aight [Juelz Santana] aight [Ja] other than that I just wanna tell you I love you [Juelz Santana] aww i love you too man [Ja] wo wo wo, dont be gettin all mushy on me man, it's time to do it big, now lets go [Juelz Santana rapping] Now that I've got your attention [Repeat x5] Im what the games been missing What you about to witness is something that you haven't been witness'in Im what the games been missing |
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4:09 |
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| from Jim Jones - Pray IV Reign (2009) | |||||
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3:27 |
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from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007)
They got us fuckin' up a storm, kush up till the morn
Breezin' from the telly puffin marijuana White T and my pelly thuggin' like la Fonz Made it rain on them bitches a bucket full of ones We got them gold diggers, cold bitches That wanna party off patron liquor, car hoppers the hard stoppers Catch 'em at the party call 'em bar hoppers We live up in the sky you call 'em star watchers They chase dope boys trap stars with fast cars And executives rap stars with black cars So we could swipe it charge it to the game Trips to M.I.A. Murcielago in the lane She's got a thing for slippin' clique and goin' clubbin' at nights Ain't nothin' like the love of my life She likes the finer things and 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 Now we in M.I. party till the noon Hammers in the ride Ferrari's go zoom All types of incidentals charges on my room From last night buggin', we mobbin' with the goons We hit the town hard, fuckin' with the ladies Bottles of viva clique, puffin' on the hazy It's all deja vu seen it all before Got her in my drop heater on the floor So I sped off from the spot, gettin' heady rock Got her in the telly she wouldn't let a nigga pop And when I woke all I seen was a note Nigga follow the trail and meet me in A T L She's got a thing for slippin' clique and goin' clubbin' at nights Ain't nothin' like the love of my life She likes the finer things and 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 Now we pull up in the a shoppin' in Lenox mall Gotta get fly squad ready to ball We thinkin' 112 or maybe even visions Drinks at the bar like baby what you sippin' Then she told me magic city fat asses and they pretty They got me blowin' thousands throwin' stacks by the fifty Got some bitches out of strokers gotta get focus I'm tryin' to play my cards like a game of strip poker Flight up in the mornin' gotta get up on her When I leave you can tell ya friends about my performance And all the time M.O.B. on my mind The weekend was nice baby but I'm back to N.Y. She's got a thing for slippin' clique and goin' clubbin' at nights Ain't nothin' like the love of my life She likes the finer things and 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 |
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5:38 |
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| from Jim Jones - Pray IV Reign (2009) | |||||
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0:9 |
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from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007)
I wear a mean pair of shades
They can't see my eyes unless my head is bent you dig |
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2:55 |
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from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007)
We back
We still on the streets Rap game is now the crack game Watch out for them rap police The rap police is on my ass, searchin' for the rest I'm stepping on the gas while I'm serving through the traffic Watching the sun rise, twisting up the grass Money on my mind, got me thinking 'bout the cash 'Cause I heard the plottin' one, you gotta have your paper right They knocking at the door, I'm hoping they don't weigh tonight We moves pies trying to get the treasures Plus 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 It's virgin on the bottles hope the groupies follow I'm tryin' to slide baby beeze [Incomprehensible] The life styles of the thugs, young rich and famous Give a fuck about the judge, we runnin' from [Incomprehensible] Speeding through life at a fast pace So I pray to god tonight and I'm hoping I don't catch a case Trying ride the wave in a deep sea 'Cause I like to spend my life, my life, my life, my life Ducking DT's in the Z3 or the GT this is PG Trying ride the wave in a deep sea 'Cause I like to spend my nights, my nights, my nights, my nights Ducking DT's in the Z3 or the GT this is PG Now I ain't sleep about a week but 7 8 theory I'm gunning in the streets everyday is getting scary And any minute meet the queens with the reefer But we gotta stay alive getting faded of the reefer Like an ol' chaser, shits gettin' major I'm fucking with the guns gotcha ya nigga all chased up It'd for the thrill so we do it for the love of it Like oh what a feeling motherfucker when we thuggin' it Go for Mob, true to stay free Free to cop a ride, hundred thousand on the V Wallin' in the whip, let's talk politics They say niggas from New York is saw by the flip I got gas in the range, cash on the chain And I'm flying up lennox fast in the lane They say it's all up in the streets I'm trying to make a million while I'm dodging from police Motherfucker [Incomprehensible] Trying ride the wave in a deep sea 'Cause I like to spend my life, my life, my life, my life Ducking DT's in the Z3 or the GT this is PG Trying ride the wave in a deep sea 'Cause I like to spend my nights, my nights, my nights, my nights Ducking DT's in the Z3 or the GT this is PG Pay attention while I mention that the bird gang 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 |
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| from Juelz Santana - Final Destination (2004) | |||||
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4:28 |
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from Jim Jones - Pray IV Reign (2009)
And 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 the 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, it's like we born with a felony Where's the longevity, we in the place Where best friends become enemies And foul niggas got the tendency You gotta watch what you wish for I hope to God it's on a switchboard When I'm tryin' to say a prayer And I'm callin', hope You listen Lord See it's 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 Lord, do You hear me praying When I'm lookin' at the sky? I hope You can hear what I'm saying It's like my, my, my I'm not really complaining But it makes me wanna cry I know You can see what I'm saying It's like my, my, my, it's like my, my, my 'Cause God ain't cryin' when the sky starts to rain That must you and God in heaven poppin' champagne And speakin' of the shams, remember in Miami You got bent pussy, it was your first trip with me We was goin' hard too many bottles up in free-vay You was goin' crazy with my Haitian man t-sway Pass that on the twins, I had teesh fer like 3 days And I can't forget you b-day We had dead body tap, we was deeper than aye And now I'm just wishin' I could see a nigga face And they kill bang, bang, did you get it with 'em yet? And it's a damn shame because niggas 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 Lord do You hear me praying When I'm lookin' at the sky? I hope You can hear what I'm saying It's like my, my, my I'm not really complaining But it makes me wanna cry I know You can see what I'm saying It's like my, my, my, it's like my, my, my To tell you both the truth, I ain't doin' the best I'm tryin' to keep a positive mind movin' through the stress I'm tryin' to stay afloat, they say I'm doin' the most I'm doin' way too much, I'm playin' death to close I'm think 'bout the thought of goin' back to court For the petty little games I really should avoid But it's the calculator risk on how we make the chip Realizin' if I slip, it's 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 won't change the deficit That ain't really even the best of it You catch me in the streets, I will surely tell you the rest of it Lord do You hear me praying When I'm lookin' at the sky? I hope You can hear what I'm saying It's like my, my, my I'm not really complaining But it makes me wanna cry I know You can see what I'm saying It's like my, my, my, it's like my, my, my |
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4:00 |
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from Jim Jones - Pray IV Reign (2009)
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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4:57 |
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from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007)
<i>[Max B]</i>
Byrd Gang club banger Tryna holla at ya shorty One focus, one focus only I'm tryna hit that thang! Let's go <i>[Max B]</i> 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! <i>[Verse 1: Jim Jones]</i> 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!) <i>[HOOK]</i> <i>[Verse 2: Juelz Santana]</i> 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 <i>[HOOK]</i> <i>[Verse 3: Cam'ron]</i> 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! <i>[HOOK]</i> |
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3:36 |
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from Jim Jones - Pray IV Reign (2009)
(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! |
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4:12 |
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from Jim Jones - Pray IV Reign (2009)
Give me a minute to get in it, give me a minute
With one of your main bitches, mental fitness I demonstrate Right in front of your eyes Watch your bitch elevate from a five to a nine Confidence booster all in her mind And I'm checkin' every dollar and dime (Come with me) To the city where my committee chase titties and ass (Are you ready? Come with me) I'll show you where the check break fast and we bust heads fast If a nigga not in single file Run up on him single style Let the thing break him down, you love my methods Take a nigga off the earth if he on my shit list reckless The key copper have to eat proper Bitches lookin' for guidance, had to be proper Tone Capone is the beat dropper The jump off is jumpin' off proper and it's about to get hotter (Come with me) 'Til it pop off And you better be ready for the jump off (Come with me) 'Til it pop off And you better be ready for the jump off (Come with me) 'Til it pop off And you better be ready for the jump off (Come with me) I still rep Walnut street in deep East Oakland The 100 block where you can your whole shit broken Like Mystikal 'Still Smokin The life [unverified] and rent free I never let nothin' live on my mind I gotta grind (Grind) Shine and fight for my grandma And don't do nothin' stupid like Hammer 'Til I go bankrupt, steady drinkin' 'til I finish my cup Then bust ya head before I shoot up the gut Fresh outta Folsom and proper beef injections Chosen selections 'cause girl I ain't fuckin' without protection I'm harder than erection Teachers so you study your lessons And advise for that viewer discretion On a scale to 1 to 10, I get 11 Give a toast to the pussy like Devin And beat it up off Sprite and Seagram 7 I've plottin' on a way to get rich And keep bread out that cock And all the folks in the hood aimin' for head Shots of lead poppin', situation's crucial And every nigga I'm wit is feelin' neutral Fuck, takin' 10 paces and drawin' down This ain't no Western movie Roll a Swisher, pass it to Ric, sat the window wit the doobie I'm lookin' at booty, onion ass on the strip You fine but baby girl where your whip, it's jumpin' off (Come with me) 'Til it pop off And you better be ready for the jump off (Come with me) 'Til it pop off And you better be ready for the jump off (Come with me) 'Til it pop off And you better be ready for the jump off (Come with me) While I'm outtie on the west, I got the best weed and the best hoes I'm on the block at all times, dressed in the best clothes My focus is money 'cause pussy come natural I only fuck with those that can show me some collateral I deal 'em all off top I ain't a child molester or a killer, I don't need y'all props Shit, if she wit me, she know what it is We hotellin' and you don't deserve to go to the crib If yo patna wanna roll, she can roll, I ain't gotta touch I like to smoke and watch you freaky hoes And I could have my choice, enie meenie miney mo Bust a nut, get the fuck, play it how it go My main ho called and told me she made some money I said, "Bitch you ain't never come gave it to me" How many woman now done wanna get gangsta for me Gotta be willin' to get down on your hands and stomach (Are you ready?) (Come with me) 'Til it pop off And you better be ready for the jump off (Come with me) 'Til it pop off And you better be ready for the jump off (Come with me) 'Til it pop off And you better be ready for the jump off (Come with me) |
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4:20 |
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from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007)
<i>[Jim Jones]</i>
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 <i>[Chorus: Jim Jones]</i> 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} <i>[Hell Rell]</i> 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 <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Jim Jones]</i> 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 <i>[Chorus]</i> |
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4:11 |
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from Jim Jones - Pray IV Reign (2009)
Shorty you're 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 Oh, you're precious Whoa, whoa, shorty you know you precious Hands down a little more then impressive You could afford to be selective If you've got a man he need to be over protective No games just telling you my perspective I would try to scoop you if I didn't even direct She'll leave a nigga breathless It's not who you came with is who they say you done left with You got a lover every morning there's breakfast And she don't be goin' through my phone like no detective Seeing me with you got them sicka than asbestos You ain't gotta love it they gotta fuckin' respect it If I were you I would get up on some neck shit If I send the goons out somebody's gonna make an exit She come and get me if I get arrested Lil' mama do the unexpected 'cause shorty she's a ridah Shorty you're 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 Oh, you're precious Every Obama needs a Michelle So little mama won't you be my Michelle Michelle my belle, I want you on my team, can't you tell? Wanna buy you pretty things like bags from Channel Texting on the phone, I got you laughin' on your cell SMH, LOL with a smiley face Talking dirty got me hotter than a fireplace What's the deal? Is you tryna get baked? Take you out the fridge and put your ass on boil Treat you like milk I'll let your ass get spoiled Said you wanna ride I bought you brand new toys So tell cupid that I seen my target, pretty face And a body like a Greek goddess A diva, closet like Neiman Marcus Work on a new fashion before it hits the market Shorty you're 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 Oh, you're precious Pretty brown eyes don't break my heart Your body's in mint condition We all find now you lit the spark Let me put you in a right position Right now Tell me your fantasy baby and I'ma take you there, yeah So turn the lights out Or you can leave them on shorty, I don't care Shorty you're 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 Oh, you're precious |
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3:46 |
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| from Jim Jones - Pray IV Reign (2009) | |||||
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5:32 |
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from Jim Jones - Pray IV Reign (2009)
Nigga, we too close, can't stop praying now
Though it seems there's no end to this pain Every time I close my eyes I pray for rain I pray for rain to wash away the strain Nigga, we too close, can't stop praying now Though it seems there's no end to this pain Every time I close my eyes I pray for rain I pray for rain to wash away the strain You couldn't understand how much the pain weight So in the hood we love the rainy days 'Cause sub constantly we know the sun's coming We love the winter 'cause we know the summers coming Remember I got locked the same night my son was coming All I could do is pray that they don't 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 miracle on flat bush 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 up gun free I swear some places I don't want him to be And I swear some things I don't want him to see But new booty, daddy loves you truly So the nights you don't see me, you know daddy's on his duty Nigga, we too close, can't stop praying now Though it seems there's no end to this pain Every time I close my eyes I pray for rain I pray for rain to wash away the strain What's a poor man's 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 for that shitting and all them pampers Grandma layed up with all of that cancer Lid paint flaking constantly chipping Mama with that dark rum constantly sipping I vow to my name a bad transmission For getting in the game that's a bad transition One flick, one night I'm ally ally outsin' free For getting you a place with a G A couple heavy shots I'ma newer man ready Go and get paper the hustler with the confetti, I'm ready Nigga, we too close, can't stop praying now Though it seems there's no end to this pain Every time I close my eyes I pray for rain I pray for rain to wash away the strain I can truly understand How life can drain all the passion from a man With just one chance it can change his circumstance And get that money, baby, get that money, babe Let's get this money, baby, yeah Nigga, we too close, can't stop praying now Though it seems there's no end to this pain Every time I close my eyes I pray for rain I pray for rain to wash away the strain |
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4:24 |
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from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007)
<i>[Intro]</i>
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 <i>[Chorus One]</i> 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! <i>[Jim Jones]</i> 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! <i>[Chorus Two]</i> 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!) <i>[Jim Jones]</i> 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! <i>[Chorus Two]</i> <i>[Chorus One]</i> <i>[Jim Jones]</i> 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! <i>[Chorus Two]</i> |
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5:03 |
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from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007)
<i>[Jim Jones]</i>
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 <i>[Chorus: Max B]</i> 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 <i>[Jim Jones]</i> 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) <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Jim Jones]</i> 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) |
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3:44 |
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from Jim Jones - Pray IV Reign (2009)
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 thing 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? Let's get it in Scoop her up like, baby, let's 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 sexy 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 would a made ya day Spending money like a Vegas day |
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4:19 |
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from Jim Jones - Pray IV Reign (2009)
See this is the life that most people dreamed of but this what we live for
They wanna take this from us why 'Cause we young black rich and famous, I wouldn't trade it for the world And there's no regrets in life, how that sound This is the life When the champagne spills and the Rollie on a nigga wrist glows This is the life When the spotlight shines and the camera gets me with a sick pose This is the life When the night time falls and the cash shuts everything down This is the life I'm escapin' on a heartache so why you gotta blame the hood? Main dragon chin chillied up Took the champagne glasses, please fill 'em up Don't be scared that you spillin' it And tell the truth is you feelin' it That's the breeze from the gutta We make cheese cop V'S and burn rubba The latest coop V's got the ladies loopy Indulged in the world so we spend the paper loosely Life in the lime light, pretty, pretty bitches My ice shine bright, break bread wit my niggaz The feds takin' pictures, we call 'em paparazzi I tell my possie vogue strike a pose I hop up in the Rolls, blunt, I'm gonna smoke This is the life When the champagne spills and the Rollie on a nigga wrist glows This is the life When the spotlight shines and the camera gets me with a sick pose This is the life When the night time falls and the cash shuts everything down This is the life I'm escapin' on a heartache so why you gotta blame the hood? I wanna tell my problems to the reverend Prayin' to God is there Harlem up in heaven? Gazin' at the stars Ferrari engine rarrin' At the red light and Harlem was the settin' I'm married to a gang but didn't come for the weddin' It started with the dealin' and dreams of four wheelin' Comin' up I ran a amuck in the streets Chasin' the fast bucks, stomach touch gotta eat Now we orderin' breakfast, I'm sittin' at the table Stackin' up my pancakes the syrups on maple I gotta watch my brothers 'cause Cain can turn Abel Gotta watch the money 'cause the thing can turn tables This is the life When the champagne spills and the Rollie on a nigga wrist glows This is the life When the spotlight shines and the camera gets me with a sick pose This is the life When the night time falls and the cash shuts everything down This is the life I'm escapin' on a heartache so why you gotta blame the hood? All I need in this world of sin is just me and the pearl twin turbo Blowin' smoke through the pipes, gettin' ghost through the night This is fast life livin', pick a coast if you like The day we cell dope, the night is velvet rope Party with the chicks from the club with hella smoke Whips that we valet soon as we hit Cali Call the more buckets, ask the waitress what's the tally Swipin' all da cash, lightin' up the grass Four Seasons stays, more reason for us to play Doin' sunset the Porsche Caberlay Or the red eye flights like the Jedi Knight in Star Wars This is the life When the champagne spills and the Rollie on a nigga wrist glows This is the life When the spotlight shines and the camera gets me with a sick pose This is the life When the night time falls and the cash shuts everything down This is the life I'm escapin' on a heartache so why you gotta blame the hood? Heaven for us I wanna know is there a heaven for us, us, us, us, us? Heaven for us I wanna know is there a heaven for us, us, us, us, us? Heaven for us I wanna know is there a heaven for us, us, us, us, us? Heaven for us I wanna know is there a heaven for us, us, us, us, us? |
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0:50 |
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from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007)
[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 muthaf**kin day. You on that Birdgame Dipset bullshit. You got me real muthaf**kin mad. I went to the bathroom to rinse my muthaf**kin mouth out after suckin your muthaf**kin dick and I find that you leave me a hundred dollars. Whats up wit that bullshit you coulda least left me a muthaf**kin?. I ain't gettin shit out this muthaf**kin relationship but a muthaf**kin dipset tattoo What the f**k is up with that? I ain't f**kin with you no more. But when you get this message call me. Dipset bitch. |
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0:45 |
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| from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007) | |||||
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3:56 |
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from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007)
[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 the bottom? (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 the 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 |
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4:42 |
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from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007)
Jim Jones:
This is 9 Trey News I'm Jimmy Jones here wit' your weather We apologize for the drought all week But it looks like thunderstorms all weekend We finna make it rain on you muthaf**kas Ya heard me Hook Stack Bundles: Weatherman with that money I make it rain on 'em (Yessir) Weatherman with that paper I make it rain on 'em (Yessir) Weatherman with that Kenny I make it rain on 'em (Yeah) I make it rain on 'em (Yeah) I make it rain on 'em (Yessir) (Repeat) Verse 1 Jim Jones: I'm Rick James "I'm rich bitch" is what I tell her Just left the bank, I took 50 from the teller I finna make it rain, so get you an umbrella We also make it snow, we cocaine gram sellers Ballin', gettin' high, dollars fallin' from the sky Big reefer cloud, got a stormin' inside Pourin' outside, I'm usually flooring when I drive That a buck 60 feels like you soaring in the sky Blowing money on the liquor (twisted) We at the strip joint blowing money on the bitches We standing on the bar throwing money like a pitcher But nigga, I ain't slippin', got a fully-loaded trigger And that can cause a heatwave I mean, you diggin' you a deep grave Niggaz Trump yo' ass, have you missin' you for three days Cam said that this nigga's a sucka And that means that this nigga's a sucka You heard that, I'm the Hook Jim Jones: Weatherman with that money I make it rain on 'em (Ballin') Weatherman with that paper I bought a Range on 'em (Capo) 20 grand worth of money I baught champaigne I make it rain on 'em Just let it rain on 'em (Repeat) Verse 2 Lil' Wayne: Weezy-F**kin'-Baby Got 'em a leash Young Money, Dipset, you better believe That gun got me walkin' like I got irregular knees I be all over the bread like sesame seeds Automatic with the money like Reggie for 3 Haha, big birds, no Sesame Street Bitch, I'm too clean, they ain't messing with me I'm just tryna see me decimals peak These niggaz just lighter than some vegetable meat These niggaz just sweet like a ta-he-she treat Okay, they say I'm fulla hot air, then I release the heat Split a nigga from his teeth to feet Know what I'm talkin' 'bout (yeah) Yadadamean like Keak Da Sneak I go dollar for dollar, week for week Yeah, and Birdman said you niggaz is bitches (yeah) So that mean you niggaz is bitches And me, I'm the Hook Lil' Wayne: Weatherman with that money I make it rain on 'em Weatherman with that paper I make it rain on 'em Still ballin' after the hurricane I'm the weatherman with that money I make it rain on 'em Hook: Stack Bundles: Weatherman with that money I make it rain on 'em (Yessir) Weatherman with that paper I make it rain on 'em (Yessir) Weatherman with that Kenny I make it rain on 'em (Yeah) I make it rain on 'em (Yeah) I make it rain on 'em (Yessir) Verse 3 Stack Bundles: Look, nothin' changed I'm shot-callin' like I'm supposed to be Ballin' like a supposed to B I spoil her like she supposed to be Find something bad, bag her like groceries Lifestyle like Six Flags, I'm rollercoasterly Pockets fulla Kenny's, these niggaz ain't gettin' money like I was I make it rain on 'em They throwing scattered showers Wet, I'm the muthaf**kin' weatherman Tornado money, can't fit it in the rubberband Check the news, it's gon' be a cloudy forecast And when I move, a couple goons in that R-Class She want a dopeboy nigga that do numbers her Smile like lightning and a ass like thunder (Yeah) I shows out and the hoes all love it And when it stops drizzling the floor's all flooded (Yessir) And one night, blew bezel and charm money F**k it, it's nothin', I'm still spending Desert Storm money Yeah Hook Stack Bundles: Weatherman with that money I make it rain on 'em (Yessir) Weatherman with that paper I make it rain on 'em (Yessir) Weatherman with that Kenny I make it rain on 'em (Yeah) I make it rain on 'em (Yeah) I make it rain on 'em (Yessir) (Repeat) |
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from Cam'Ron - S.D.E (2000)
[Intro]:
Yeah nigga This is what the fuck I'm talking about Back up in this fucking shit now We gonna do shit ya'll niggas never heard of Fuck is goin on in this motherfuckin bitch c'mon [Jimmy Jones]: Yo yo yo yo I'm a nomad nigga I came up with no dag Little broke nigga I ain't have no cash No threads and no rags Shit was serious I wasn't in no fads nigga I'm no pretender I've been to jail and I know offenders You I don't know or no remember But I know you tender Shit you ain't no exeption I'm in the hood with no redemption When you gonna die in life there's no prevention Why the fuck you put us here when you know we bad Yeah I was one that would cut you Cause I came up to with no one to look up to But the one that sold drugs to the ones with no life Why the fuck police treatin us like we got no rides Niggas I know the truth though I ain't got no poverty nigga I know my roots Nigga I know some mirrads that don't get no dormida Ain't got no trible for no cormida no papa no madre no nada Nigga no hente what the fuck people no comprende [Freaky Zeeky]: Comprende what the fuck Nigga fuck all this shit up in this motherfucker Got get your own cheese nigga What the fuck is the deal what the fuck is the deal Nigga fuck is the deal nigga fuck is the deal Keep it real on this motherfuckin bitch nigga You talkin shit blah blah fuck you bitch Nigga I do what the fuck I got to do [Cam'ron]: Yo I can't live up in Hollow Hills with some model thrills Why for the dollar bills I got the bottle Crils I don't have to swallow pills Why when I'm starvin I got to gobble meals Why did I cop to steal Why did I ride ride for real Why we can't wait til our time God could take her Why the flesh eatin disease make niggas get ate her Why bitches with a fat ass gotta wear A cup Why Dave Listern from the NBA-a Why the great ones always break up And when travisty happen they wanna make up Why niggas can't get caked up and stay caked up Say what why we can't tell who's smart or dumb Why niggas in blue suits gotta take us and put us in orange one Why Adam and Eve didn't know what was in the garden dun Why niggas from America always wanna cart to foreign land My drugs I gotta buy why sluts gotta fly why thugs gotta cry Why when I get on blood got to die Why me and Tai can't see eye to eye Why when plane crashes niggas fly to die Why were depend on a handshake when you reachin a palm Why beef with my mom why can't sleep when I cum Why my black I love every fight I laugh when they mug me every right I got to fuck every night Run deep in my ways six feet deep in our graves Why periods last three to five days Why we ain't retreated to slaves Why we don't learn til we leave for the cage And we say the beasts is in rage Why I can't tell you the whole story just a piece of the page Whys no such thing as true lies Why can't I have two rather than few highs Whys homos got to do guys in the world Why ain't there more girls that wanna do girls Whys multiple-sclorosis why got multiple intosis You know my .45 my .357 but why my shotgun why plot dun Why man in statue depend on his rocks son Why my hood fight flurges I see crook type murders And niggas get cooked like burgers Why your girl want my clique why your girl on my dick Why she rub it against her mouth like it's chap stick Why this rap shit Why CEOs wanna rap why rappers wanna be CEOs Yo why you all wanna see me blow Why the rederick why I can't get my proper ettiquette [Outro]: Better get all your money motherfucker get that said again I want that money too nigga Fuck that lil two dolla prude I wanna get that Cristal shit too nigga Yeah niggas up in the shit motherfucker I ain't stoppin I ain't never fuckin stoppin I ain't never motherfuckin stoppin up in this motherfucker Nigga you better get some more money cause We got to tapes up this motherfucker You better be rich cause we got a lot more shit I ain't never gonna stop motherfucker I bet you better believe that |
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