Альбом Jim Jones

[Нет текста]

[Нет текста]

(feat. Cam'Ron, Juelz Santana)

[Jim Jones]
We set them presidents, to get them presidents
Over the ones that are dead, we'll put guns to your head
Put dots on your loaf like you was wonder the bread
Sheek, Zeke, Hell Rell, and I got some in the Feds
I contradict what ever the government says
For them boys on my back wit them bugs by my bed
They still thinkin' that we coppin' sellin raw
Tryin' to put us through them Rico and them Rockefeller' laws
I'm in LA the top down the pedals floored
Wit a hot stiletto whore, suck my cock tell the law
For all you faggots I see past all your cheap stares
Nowadays I see my past from a beach chair
I the fellin' so relaxed and refreshin' when chillin'
A total change from movin crack off the steps of the buildin's
Rollin wit gangs in the back of the ' jects where the killin'
In Park Ave. where young Chris body found
A number is all to add to task body count
Watch it boy they'll show you how that shotty bounce, bounce

[Juelz]
I'm the most incredible, to ever do what you cats'll never do, or be able to
I'm ahead of you, cause I spit like I never ate, and if I did then I'm just
never full
Stop the hoe jokes, I'm not a homo, better believe I'll cock the 4-4
I ain't Mexican, but I'll stretch your man, yes I am a fuckin' vato loco
I went from the pot with cocoa
To the block with cocoa
To gettin' locked, catchin' a charge dealin' wit the cops and cocoa
Now I'm just hot like cocoa
You can catch me on the block, being watched, in a drop
The same color as chocolate cocoa
I done walked in the street, with so much raw in my sneaks
God dam, got home and had corns on my feet
I see the lord when I sleep, and often he speaks
He says Juelz you better than all of these creeps
So I got all my shit light, got on my shit right
Not a lot of thems this nice
But the games funny so I gotta do shit right
So to the ball drop, and the world blow up, I'm a twirl shit up
Until my peeps come home, Zeke come home, better believe I'm a keep on beastin'
on

[Cam'Ron]
Where should I began our pompous
A thousand wins accomplished
Known throughout the atlas, honest been accomplished
You'll be abolished
Men, children, women astonished
The Don is the one, jewelry way beyond it
Chunky blessed on the chest
Funky S when I dress
Thunder storm damn
Monkey wrenching' her fresh
But I cope wit the rain, mad I can't float with my dame, down to the coastal wit
caine
Maine, my boat is a plane
I land on the water, here I go boastin' again
I keep toast, give a toast, inhale smoke for the pain
Girls gone wild, nope
They goin' insane
All doped off the fame
Jump rope with my chain
Now thats off the chain, Ma take off your chain
the 40 will off your brain, kids will be lost and claimed
Cause of Walton James, now in the orphan game
Whether adoption or foster its all the same
Jim's the rider of riders
JR's the writer of writers
Juelz you know him well, hell he the fire of fire
I'm the supplier, baffled thats the hustler
Trife got a knife for that apple inside your jugular
The Big Apple, I tackle all the customers
Put it on the apple at the castle, come and fuck with us
And further more, got the birds of raw, I deserve a tour
Hey, hey holla' back, swallow that
Thats murda' whore
In a Persian turban, swervin', that Suburban mergein', curvin', herb in the air
Yeah, yeah I'm hurtin y'all
See I crash and cop it, mash and mop it, blast a rocket
Natural born hustler, yeah crack I stocked it
Now my drugs are legal, so just pass the profit
Three months alone Sizzurp will smash the ' Notic
We them B boys in one year a quarter billion
Here come the clothin' line, I got your order children
And thats more than illin'
Long as the Lord is willin'
I'm a pour in millions, so applaud a villain
Killa

im puffing ma weed and these
niggaz they mad im frontin this season
as far as their hoes they want me to
see em i fuck em and then they dont want me to leave em
and the addictive obsession, i twist them
i sex them ma dicks in obsession
they call me they miss me they stressin (jones)
i call them they miss me they stressin (jones)
these hoes are sayin the shit that will kill ya im
rich so its killin for millions(oh yeah)
as far as ma dips we rich big cars in the whips we
spend what you spend on your car on ma wrist
dont bother me bitch in the mist of this
grime im twistin ma line
im about to get cash and you can kiss ass dip set
got this shit im gonn smash

Chorus x1:
this is jim jones hes greasing your
crome your best bet is leave him alone
o.g in them stones spend gs on them stones
mamie just send me the tone(sing)
sing............sing

these are true stories i used to live poorly
and now man i live in 2stories(thats a law)
they sueder then maury the group is farary you
dont want no race i will move on you shoties
look good on the camera they love me
i put my whole hood on the camera they
bluntin in hood with them blamas tell me so do it fro grandmas
i we did it from drugging and struggle for
4 we did it from hustlin and comin up wrong we
did it from hustlin and comin up strong we did it we did it
still runnin with cars and guns in their
palms you front on dipset we will dump on your moms
or come through a bols and stopit pause and set off the bars

Chorus x1

you got to admit im hot when i spit like a summer
times chocolate eclipse (sizzilin)
like a drop on a strip wit no top on a
whip im blocken that whip with a cop on the
strip wit glocs when they hear like shells when
they drop when them shots hit the strip
the pain in my heart i aim for the star we started
and we came through the star
now we all pain and no charge wit back to back hits
like yankees and shit dipset we gangsta and shit
but i credit ma ghetto cause now we rock
plantinum the preciouses metal
dont press us so press on this metal
we will blow you apart you should`ve known
from the start
ma jewels they glow in the dark
you fool keep playin your part

Chorus x1

(feat. J.R. Writer)

[Jim Jones (talking)]
Yea, Jones...Capo Status
You know what this is about! Its about riders...
all my states around the countries
all my niggaz from ghetto to ghetto, my niggaz ready to ride..
R.I.P Biggie Smalls this one's for you..

[Chorus 2X: Jim Jones]
Let's ride, here go some riders, I hope you know the riders
Them holding, rollin riders, lock and load my riders
You know we riders, that ride out and get high, and just ride
And get high and just ride

[Jim Jones]
Lock and load the clip, see po-po then slow the whip
Big ass guns in a stolen whip, but if you got weed then roll the shit
You rollin with
Them rollin Dips, straight up weed no poofin these
Straight up G's no doopin me, brazy b's that shoot up shit
Major cheese off of movin bricks
From cuttin up rain to shuflin rain
Baggin these hoes fuckin some dames
Waking up morning and fuckin the dame
I'm in restaurants Mr. Chows, stuntin hard like 50 thou
I keep my goons my niggaz wild, shootin that thing til ya shit go BLAOW!
The palmin weed cant come my needs, Hatian niggaz bombin weed
Gats mo-mo, techs gon blow, all in these streets
Shots with a four pound, AK when it go round
Dont play when it go round
In little Haiti them niggaz crazy like "get 'em baby!"

[Chorus: Jim Jones 2x]
Let's ride, here go some riders, I hope you know the riders
Them holding, rollin riders, lock and load my riders
You know we riders, that ride out and get high, and just ride
And get high and just ride

[Jim Jones]
Call my gang to bust, know you fags aint dangerous
Must be high off angel dust, to think that you can bang wit us hang wit us
Tape you to the hood no thang with us, shoot up ya club get ya mangled up
I call my gangstas up, and get ya faggot ass tangled up
Now what you bitches, step on the corner wit a bunch of G's
Tryna dump the heat, while you duck police
Me myself I run the streets wit no regard
(They) like "OH MY GOD!"
We just sittin here not to lose, high off weed and lots of booze
Call my G's when I got to move, cause I drop 100 G's when I copped the Coupe
Niggaz round the way tryna take my life, cause I run round the way wit a neck
full of ice
Gotta bunch of doggs and I set 'em to bite, if you niggaz want war we can do it
tonight
I'm prayin to the Lord that optimize, DipSet ByrdGang know I'ma ride
And I'ma rep til my last breath, take a pull of my last hit
Pull up on these niggaz and blast the bitch, eastside when I mask the bitch
We ride on some panther shit, gotta go prac, lotta load gats
If a niggaz run on me then I gotta go back...back...(and we gon ride out and get
high)

[Chorus: Jim Jones 2x]
Let's ride, here go some riders, I hope you know the riders
Them holding, rollin riders, lock and load my riders
You know we riders, that ride out and get high, and just ride
And get high and just ride

[Chorus 2X: J.R. Writer]
You know we riders, I hope you know we riders
You think you roll wit liars, you'll hear them 4's wit fire
Listen lame, I'm insane, to this game, get this flame in ya brain
Like "BANG BANG BANG BANG..."

[J.R. Writer]
Yo, who is realer than us? we'll turn jailors to sluts
I'm too real chill, you can't inhale what I puff
Peep it duke, me to you's, like a whale to a gup
Keep ya Chuck Taylors, I'ma go taylor my Chucks
You'll get whaled on the snuck, gat for ice, match it twice
Faggot dyke, mag to bite, there go ya appetite
My niggaz blast the pipe, black ya lights, flag the kite
Shout to my man Tito Lino facin natural life
I'm just natural nice
You's hermaphrodite, my man Zeke be home 3 nigga pass the kite (Freeky!)
This the facts of life, facts of ice, scrap ya right
Cabbage sliced, matchin chain, matchin Nikes
You's a coward please, I keep the power squeezed
Creep this thunder'll leave you under them flower trees
I done crowd the pease, wit about a thousand keys
Ask about me, I aint gotta break a smile to cheese

(feat. Cam'Ron, Bezel)

[Verse: Jim Jones]
You know I keep my eyes wide
East side high risers
West side low riders
vest with the four-fire
Yes I fo sho fire
D-I-P low rider
See police, slow the ride
See scwalay , nigga
'Cause they be thinking that the ride stolen
Keep your head up and your eyes open
Load the lead up while the ride rollin
Creep up on a motha like what you say fucka
Well fuck him and if he live smoke him
We don't appeal to the law
You know we ride this motherfucker till them wheels fall off
And the first bastard get fly
You know blad, blad, blad, was my reply
89 wolf pack and we wylin
P-89 pull gats 'cause we violent, shit, yea
We put coke on the strip
Don't quote me boy 'cause I ain't said shit

[Chorus: Bezel]
Since I made a gang of bucks
Nah I ain't been hanging much
Still slide through fly coupes, and the chains is plush
Keep the banger tucked 'case I had to bang a fuck
'Cause we Certified Gangstas
All day we hanging smut, dog with a gang of ducks
Hundred grand on the hand, Game got the range of trucks
Kill wit the deal, still got cane to cut
'Cause we Certified Gangstas

[Verse: Cam'Ron]
We still in ages of glocks
Razors or octs
'Cause I lay in the drop
Pump the base on the pocket
Move the H on our block, in front of H&R Block
See the face on our watch, put your face on our cock
I keep the looga hug
Show you how to use the snub
Whoop-te-woo, fuck around be you I plug
I don't do the drugs, baby I move the drugs
Right on the computer love, it sound like computer love
Duck the cop-cappers
And them top-hatters
Fock flavors, harlem world we got gators
Not dead I said they alive
Lions, Tigers, Bears, oh my
It's a straight zoo
A to Z, May to April
Bring the Apes through
Fuck around you be ape food, baked food
9 bitches 8 dudes
Diamond visions, great cubes
Get it straight fool

[Chorus]

[Verse: Jim Jones]
You know I ride through Lennox
All eyes on my pendant
But I'm moving like oh dog was ridding a menace
With that automatic weapon, blowing live through my tennant
While I'm breezin' through the jects, blowing live on the tennants
I'm pouring liquor for the dead and gone
And we retaly same night, load the blinkers with the leaders on
We come to get you till the dead and morn
(Knock, Knock wake up mothafucker, you know who it is)
Killa and Jones coppin one dawn
Big birds, the rocks and our charms
He got the bird, the glocks in my palm
I got the word from King Joffrey the bomb
My nigga zeekey surely a hard rock
How he survived them 40-sum-odd shots
As we ride he screamed out eastside
All the time as I reply

[Chorus]

..Killa, Jones, Jones, Let's Go

[Cam'Ron]
Clowns don't come around, pound pounds i pump in town
Do like House of Pain, Kriss Kross, jump around
Jumpin' down, stuntin style, over those I polly
Then merk-o from squalie, ducati and Roberto Cavali mami
We feelin' them scoobies, you stealin' them gucci's booby
Get it right, its Emilio Pucci, hoochie (hoochie)
Write for sci-fi, i'll be pipin' five pies, the cat went like the nine lives
Ten halves, five pies, ten cars, five drives, ten bars, fi-fi
That's fifty-five thou, sha-na-na, bye bye
My fittings touched tailored, joined by Chuck Taylors
On the yacht with glocks, we sum thug sailors
You drinkin' old gold, rockin that old gold
We in rose gold, at the Rose Bowl
Send you a bowl of roses, we dun sold souls
Slow toes, im so cold, my dough folds
Killa!

[Chorus: Jim]
So get your parachute, and row your boat nigga
Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high
We fly high, like bo! Bo! bo!
Now your row your boat nigga, and get your parachute
Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high
Bo! Bo! and fly high like Bo! Bo!

[Jim]
So on this road to success, I grew up in the boat o'y'all
Gettin closed by the jets
I learned my code from the set, I took my oath to the death
I risked the quarter to bing, I bet this forty a ring
Cams from the 40th wing, the westside of harlem
And rat roach infested, them black po's in vests's
They stack most impressive, ride through Tana's town
Thats where them grams be found, breeze through the broadway side
And where they always reside, and so much raw yay,
You know all them boys be outside
With them sirens and guns, all the noise be outside,
And yes we scour the slums
You know our toys be outside, co-co boy to ride,
Five-hundred thou on the block
the ones when we ride on the block, pumpin them bow's for the rocks
Look i came up from that, cookin' that came from crack
New boys shinin' man, New York's ryder man, look how I got'em Damn!

[Chorus: Jim]
So get your parachute, and row your boat nigga
Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high
We fly high, like bo! Bo! bo!
Now your row your boat nigga, and get your parachute
Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high
Bo! Bo! and fly high like Bo! Bo!

[Juelz Santana]
I'm a, boy shotta, born poppa, y'all liars, y'all notta
I squeeze more fire, call coppers
Hear that, pumper squeeze, yeah that, pumper be
Shoved in your mouth for talkin' all the fuck-a-ree
We move with the toon boy, we shoot'em and move boy
Yes you could say we are the Rudest of rude boys
Move that, do that, juke that girl, who dat who dat who dat girl
I wanna meet her, i wanna see her, i wanna skeet skeet
I wanna juice that girl
Grippin good, pimpin good, livin' good, shit is good, test me, lets see
I wish a nigga would (aye)
Y'all kids is a waste, when i spark clips is a waste
When alcoholics spit in your face, quick get a tatse
Nigga i ride, how i drive, how i fly, high sky, ha ha ha im hot
So high, so fly, float by, oh why, oh my, and i dont know why
Whoaa...

[Chorus: Jim]
So get your parachute, and row your boat nigga
Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high
We fly high, like bo! Bo! bo!
Now your row your boat nigga, and get your parachute
Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high
Bo! Bo! and fly high like Bo! Bo!

(feat. Bun-B, T.I.)

[T.I. talking]
Jim Jones what it is homie
Killa Cam, Freekz Zeeky, Juelz whats happ'nin
Hey 'a aye... yea yea yea 'a aye
T.I.P. nigga y 'a y yeeah. Aye a aye
I'm up in Harlem to put it down wit my muthafuckin folks
Dipset bitch. A town to muthafuckin NY
nigga you already know what it is. Bankhead
C-rod, Grand Hustle, Diplomats
you dont like it kill yaself nigga. Lets go

[verse 1 T.I.]
Late night straight white fa ya base pipe
No mo quarter O's get ya weight right
Crack rock black glock kept it waist height (hey)
It hit ya mug you dont imagine what ya face like
American pie I'm tellin you guys
you want beef wit us well who the fucks preparin you guys
We sparin you guys get buried alive
What you rushin fa, act like you in a hurry to die
Some I let 'em fly 'fore I let that ride
I paralize ya like Supermans horseback ride nigga
Walk up on ya car and scorch dat ride
Flat tires, glass shattered wit a corpse inside
A town break down straight pounds of dro'
Still deal if you want 10 birds or mo
Pimp Squad, Dipset I know ya heard before
If we called you a bitch you deserved it hoe. Aye

[verse 2 Jim Jones]
I cop bricks of the crack (dat yayo)
And take it to my block, strip or my trap, my block strip is so trapped
Cops quick wit a strap, and you'll be scared shitless
How they where the big fifth and load up flares and biscuits
I'll take ya bitch from you, bring her back wit smeared lipstick (She Mine)
You can compare ballistics, but it's mere physics (Pimpin)
I'm 2-3's on drops, I used to play hoopties on blocks
plottin man like who he gon pop
In this tragic city, now I'm Bankheadin
4 tens headin down in ATL's Magic City
Yes the stash is pretty, and the mag hold 50
We take ova towns, then send the Rovers 'round
Lookin fa hoes to pound, ya local hoochie spot
Lookin fa hoochies hot, to get they coochie popped
I love the titty bars, I love my niggaz pa
Dipset, Pimp Squad yo lets get it pa

[Bun-B talking]
Yeah already trill niggaz in this bitch
UGK know what I'm sayin. Thats off top fool
You already know. Wreck it boyz. Go down like that
What up Jones. Dipset nigga

[verse 3 Bun B]
Bitch my Cadillac is candy and my pistol is pearl
My best friend is a pimp and his bottom bitch is ya girl
I got them 84's that clank, the big diamonds that blank
Plus them hoes that pop pills, smoke kill, and sip drank
Fuck what ya think I'm tryin to tell you how life is give it and take it
My lil brotha in the pen, where niggaz shiv'rin and shakin
We got a million dollar team, wit one gone
So I'm takin my 500 to flip in the game
to have somethin for 'em when he come home
My two older brothers locked up, both of 'em smokin
Principals gon be fucked up my lil neices and nephew heartbroken
Seein Daddy in a cage at that age, it fuck ya mind up
So at this stage in the game I gots to really get my grind up
So you gon see me in yo city doin a verse or a show
Or maybe even servin these niggaz a couple of dem thangs on the low
Dipset affiliated so you can hate it or love it
But it you keep pushin ya luck bitch my middle fingers gon shove it
Know what I'm sayin

[Intro / Chorus]
Dip-Set, uh
(Jones) Money on mind
(Capo Status) Mind on my money
(Dip-set nigga) My money on mind
(You know the streets is what it is nigga) Mind on my money
(Watch ya step and watch ya moves) My money on mind
Mind on my money
My money on mind

[Verse 1]
Shit, make 'em believe in this prophecy (movement)
You can see I'm tryin to lead my democracy (Dip-Set)
To get money and rip sleeve off of my city (New York)
And slow down, then try to breeze thru the projects B (Taft)
And how I speeds in velocity (160)
We came up movin keys of that knotty B (that Yae-Yo)
My man caught 10, couldn't find the keys to the lobby B
The boys rushed him, 2 keys of mahogany (Damn!)
In my life you can't see me not possibly (Nooo!)
How we swoop up in Harlem, 20 Coupes when we mobbin'
40 troops if it's problems (What Nowww!)
Cause 1 nigga you know is a shotgun driver (jus 1 nigga)
Ready to dump triggers, that shotgun fire (blakka!)
I ain't gone front nigga I shot some guys up
(didn't kill 'em though, fuck 'em though)
And they came back to my block like riders (Yop!)
But I'm like "Crouching Tiger", spin, roll, crouch and fire (Boom, Yea!)
A fast retally (Uh Huh!)
Now it's cash we tally
Miami, Atlanta, fuck it we smash to Cali (L.A.X.!)
Back on L.A. Ave, you know the Lennox strip
Where they Henny sip
Beef we let the semi rip

[Chorus]
Mind on my money, my money on mind
Mind on my money, my money on mind
Mind on my money, my money on mind
You fuck wit Dip-Set, I will press on this .9
Mind on my money, my money on mind
Mind on my money, my money on mind
Mind on my money, my money on mind
You fuck wit my paper, I'll press on this .9

[Verse 2]
And yeah we world renowned (U.S.)
And I might twirl thru town (uh huh)
And in a Dip-Set mansion is where ya girl be found (hollaaa!)
How can a pearl be drowned (yea)
How can a diamond not shine (uh huh)
Man I'm on my G mack
I scoop up dimes all the time (bad bitches)
They love my pimp juice (yeah)
I let my crimps loose
They get a glimpse, ooooooo
Some went and cinch douche'
Scoop her feed her feed her shrimp soup (that's right)
Mind fuck her, brain fuck her
mouth screw her 'til it hurt, uh, (then what?) shit
She scream "Do me it hurt" (uh huh)
Ill have her movin' that work
I mean 2 of them chirps
Up in her Dooney and Bourke (gettin' money)
So ruthless it hurts
I mean I'm truely bezerk
When I scoop up my cash man, I swoop up and murk (errrrrrrrr!)
Yea, a trick and a bag bitch (uh huh)
2 bricks and a bad bitch
Shit, them bitches mackin' (they love me)
I'm as sick as maggot (rite)
But I don't fuck wit no bitch if she ain't worth no chips or no cabbage

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
I'm so problematic (yeah)
And do to servin' Harlem-matics (damn)
My fame and fortune still revolve wit' static (that beef)
Still involve wit' savage types that move drugs
365 all around set every nite (perrico)
I ain't the passive type (nope)
On the benches where I crashed them nites (movin')
Blowin' hemp, movin' slabs of white (hustlin')
Spend days up in court
How I shaved weight to snort
Give that to the press or Dave Mays in the source (suttin to read about)
Yes, since success it has changed
Since we, stepped up in this game and stepped up wit' our game (ballin')
No more chef cuttin' cain
Hoes X'd up in they brain
Lemme sex up in the Range
So much princess cuts in my chains (Bling!)

[Chorus]

[Нет текста]

[Intro / Chorus fading in and out in background]
Ok, ok, (heeeyyyy) yeah
We back in this bitch (Lovely Daze like this...)
Jim Jones nigga (you know!), Capo Status (COOFIE SMACKA!)
A.k.a Jim Caso (lovely painter), and I jus love it man (Lovely Daze like
this...)
I love paintin' these pictures for the hood, you dig
(that's where I'm at Eastside)
Its Dip-Set, Eastside (come on!), lets ride

[Verse 1]
They got me livin' like (what!), I aint worried 'bout my well being
I used to hurry up and sell fee (2 for 5!)
Like I aint worried for the jail scene (fuck cops)
'Til I got knocked, yeah observed in my cell C (ya honor)
I was young and was restless
Run around wit' my gun and my vestes
Yeah I'm hungry and reckless (what)
But no one better test us (no way)
Cause I got nuttin to lose, suttin to prove, I'm screamin' EASTSIDE
(EASTSIDE!!!)
While I dump on you dudes (Dip-Set!)
And what we live by (yeah), what we gon' die by (Dip-Set)
So these rules I abide by
I'm duckin' shots on a driveby, finger the cops, yeah when they ride by
(Byrdgang!)
Squally, is what they scream, fuck it
As I polly wit' my team puff it
We on the scene rugged
Yeah, we get our green thuggin'
Fuck it, I scream out, yo I'm uh G, fuck it

[Chorus: As well as Jones speaking in between]
Lovely Daze like this, I miss I miss
(Lovely Daze man. When I say Lovely Daze I'm talkin' bout.)
Lovely Daze like this, I miss I miss
(Fresh in High School, fresh with that freedom. You know explorin' the
streets nigga)
Lovely Daze like this, I miss I miss
(You know, takin' no prisoners man, ready to do whatever whenever)
Lovely Daze like this, I miss I miss
(Fuck what they talkin' bout man, you jus doin you man. Find yaself!)

[Verse 2]
You know how kids scheme (how they shceme?), we had big dreams (yeah!)
Of coppin' them Benzez up on big scene (bling bling)
All glittered in jewels just like Liberraci (mmm!)
Look at my dipped posse (yeah!)
Look how this shit done got me (Crazy!)
I'm some paranoid shit (yop!)
Its kinda scary I carry the 4 fifth (who want it!)
Its kinda brazy that it be like that
Aint no play me and you be right back
You better blaze me if it be like that (get me nigga!)
They got some issues with views I got (uh huh)
I carry pistols when I cruise my block (lets ride!)
Its uh issue if I cruise ya block
My dogs 'ill get you, know the rules or not (wut up now fool!)
Uh, yeah, we will cruise ya parameters (where they at?)
You caught slippin', no rules or parameters (where they at?)
Fuck the crews, fuck the cameras (fuck police)
I tell you now, aint no dudes that can handle us (bllllddddaat!)

[Chorus]
Lovely Daze like this, I miss I miss
(Ok, now it done got lovlier, you know. We done did the hustlin' thing)
Lovely Daze like this, I miss I miss
(We done had fun on the streets. Now we entered the game and we gettin
millions)
Lovely Daze like this, I miss I miss
(What's more lovlier than that? I'm tellin you I'm loving this shit. It
aint no taking me back man)
Lovely Daze like this, I miss..
(I'm tellin you man. Its Lovely Daze from here on end, you hear me.)

[Verse 3]
Can't forget about my born pos' (Nope!)
Can't forget about my night gangs
Bet it all to the dice game (yea)
Bet I brawl wit' my light frame (Fo' sho)
I get it on like I'm Ty-sane (Lets Brawl!)
And every year more niggaz deceased (R.I.P.)
I shed a tear and pour liquor on streets (jus 4 u)
And burn a fear to raw spliffs of the leaf (and get high)
And say a prayer, Lord where's the relief (my dudes)
I'm burnin' purple jus' watchin my ghetto birds (ok)
And peep the circle Ill tell you its several birds (peep game)
We gettin' guac, we hustlin' peddle birds (that yae)
And fuck the cops, we bustin' our metal birds (Desert Eag'z)
We from the block we love our Stiletto birds (hey baby!)
That's why we hustle and grind
So we can pluck us a dime
And feed her some game and fuck up her mind
And she give me brain, I'm puffin' my lime
So lovely (Dip-Set!)

[Chorus]
Lovely Daze like this, wit my Dips, with my Dips
Fuckin wit my Dips, wit my Dips, gettin' chips
Fuckin wit my Dips, my Dips, buyin' whips
Jus fuckin' wit Dips, my Dips...

[Outro and fades into next song Memory Lane]
Haha ha, yeah, its Lovely Daze man (that's right). Jim Jones, fuck it
shit, Capo Status. What's fuckin wit that man (Coofie smacka). For my
Dip-Set, from hear on end its Lovely Daze. That's what this song is
about. For my riders, ride out.................................
Fireman

[Chorus (repeat 2x)]
'Cuse me ma, we cruise around this strip down Memory Lane
Lets take this time to rekindle
Puffin on this purple, sippin Hennessy, thats trippin like Dame
Pour out ya liquor, light ya candles

[Verse]
I was rippin and runnin while I'm grippin my gun (outdoors)
And I use to, play wit my heat I was waitin to bust (fuck that)
And I say, fuck the police they better take me in cuffs (til I go)
Cause I'm in, love wit the streets yea I'm shakin my nuts (hold it tight)
And it was, regular shit havin fun wit my troops (uhh huh)
Yeah, get in the party have our guns in boots (stash that)
And, New Years 'ill come we bustin guns off the roof (you got that)
Cause, we pissy drunk up off that 100 proof (twisted)
Plus, we pitchin packs jus to get us some sneakers (paper)
While, we sippin yak and we twistin up reefa (gettin right)
Youthful offenders on the stoop gettin bent up dodging police in them
juvenile centers, my life is brazy (ooooo!)
Teenagers are wild, they charged like adults we pray it loud "Dear God
we in Hell", Lord can you save me
One of the pictures that he stuck in my brain
As I'm cruisin down the strip of ghettos Memory Lane

[Chorus until it fades out]
'Cuse me ma, we cruise around this strip down Memory Lane
Lets take this time to rekindle
Puffin on this purple, sippin Hennessy, thats trippin like Dame
Pour out ya, liquor light candles

(feat. Chico DeBarge)

{*Chico harmonizes to music from "Scarface" until 0:25*}

[Jim Jones]
I seen it all from a player's eyes (mack)
Look at this world from my latest ride (Benz)
We knock 'em all if you let this slide (that's right)
This how you ball if you a major guy (whoa)
With alcohol and a hazy high
The city lights in the jaded sky
I had this girl, wanna make her mine
I can't lie, I was interested in her (what happened)
We shared a bed in the club, and even crept to dinner (Miami)
It's such a funny situation
Cause I knew she had a man in the ave. by reputation (what's what)
I get around (okay) I'm just a product of my occupation (so what)
I asked her number and she contemplated (what happened)
I'm losin patience (uh-huh) and it's startin to get flagrant (so what)
Seize the moment or forever regret it
Three in the mornin and I'm stressin to catch her (you know I need that)
Creepin up on her and applyin the pressure
Me and my homey A don't think I can get her, uhh, but

[Chorus: Chico DeBarge]
It's crazy, smooth ghetto angel so amazin
Smokin gettin high with the daisy
Thinkin 'bout makin you my lady, maybe
You're a bad girl, she say I only want her for my pleasure
Slow hit it from the back, I do it better
She left me with a kiss and I let her, never sweat her

[Jim Jones]
You seekin love is watchin movies on and off the stations (hell no)
Those commercials was our intermissions (for what)
For the {?} and the tongue-kissin (what else) and one instance
Turns some heated touchin to some freaky fuckin (just get it)
My situation is a bit of trouble
See this affair is a bit of struggle
And my persona and my thuggish morals
That was enough to start a lover's quarrel
Since she had a man but he wasn't loyal (I hear that)
Got loose enough just to open up (then what)
It be the mornin 'fore he sober up (twisted)
I call the shit like Punky Brewster (what?)
And she never met a thug looser
Star nigga party with the snub shooter (bang bang)
My thug True is probably posted in back
We party hard, get so crazy
And we smoke and drink 'gnac (we ain't never scarred)
I'm tryin to slide in the night on some smutty sex
Niggaz beepin my phone to ask me did I get her yet

[Chorus]

[Jim Jones]
It's gettin nervous now (why) cause the word in town (was what)
Is that your man got the word that we done flirtin 'round
In your Beemer merkin 'round (err) foreplay in the hallways
So now we hit the house and pull the curtains down (close that curtain)
We laugh and we joke, we drink and I pass you the smoke
Smack your ass when you walk, when fuckin I grab and you joke
(Have sex at night) As we lay and we chill
Your crib, nice apartment, who's payin the bills
This type of shit'll get you sprayed and you killed
(That's that Harlem shit) Like {?} shot in "Paid in Full"
This is not a movie script, some of my truest shit
Selfish premonition, out of sight I'm out of mind
When this nigga gone and missin (play the rules)
Wishin she mine, I'm knowin that she'll never be (never be)
This'll be fine, the closest that I'll ever be (ever be)
I see a chick and she mine, new Goldie of the ghetto B
Niggaz beepin my phone to ask me did I get her yet

[Chorus] - to fade

(feat. Denise Weeks)

[Verse 1: Jim Jones]
There was no love for us (nope)
So we did what we did just to make a buck played around we're fucking nuts
(crazy)
Hope them ho's puckerup tryna get them to slide
Thats on our mind getting high all the time (we tryna fuck!)
We hustle hard, hope the fiends buy all the dimes
So we can scoop up and hit the party and scoop a bitch (get twisted)
You know the drill homie
Play the rules and play the field but don't get killed homie (stay alive)
So where's the better days?
The have to get up days to cheff up yay just to get us paid (we hustle hard)
You see never it fails most of my homies either dead or jail (gone)
Don't fuck with phonies cause they get you killed (ah ah)
My testimony's every bitter real (thats right)
Dont run up on me cause I'm gripping steel (bang bang)
I'm kinda nervous and I'm quick on the blast
due to the murders that I witnessed in town

[Chorus: Denise Weeks]
Livin the life with a rider seems
it's the only thing that I'm gonna run to
Thats when you light and get high with me
Look what the ghetto's did to me (Baby)
And when you finish running the streets
I'll be the only one that you gonna run to
Just getting paper and ducking police
Look what the ghetto did to me (uh)(yeah yeah)

[Verse 2: Jim Jones]
There was no peace in sight (nope)
It was sleepless night (yup)
Hustling yay breaking day to see the light (money man)
Street squalie you see polices lights (squalie)
As I polie on this decent price
Got a cuses that want some pies 23 a slice
Transactions by the building, uptown Harlem world, Manhattan where we kill them
(Taz)
Plus my project way of thinking spending most my days drinking
It's like I'm on my way to sixton (lock in)
But we do what we do thats survival
And we move how we move thats through the rivals (fuck them enemies)
It's been said we living suicidal, it's like rush at eleven placing bucks on
your bet
Do your thang slang cane and get your bucks on your steps (watch)
Watch ya ass young man they want you under arrest (thats them pigs)
And you ain't know, they getting stripes for that
They have you in your cell man serving life for that

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: Jim Jones]
Now for my project corners, go hard for warrants (fuck'em)
Every night I make it, I pray to God for goners (I pray to God)
We pour liquor on floors
That's for the soldiers that we lost in the mist of this war (RIP Life)
For the ones on the grind and front line they got called by po nine
And now they prisoners of war
They fight for appeal or a bill or a ball
Cause they slipped and got nailed for a sale of a rob (Zeek you know wassup)
Two shouts for O.B.C.C six main house of fame
When you come home come and see me
Stay cool I lay the rules on ya
Play the fool and they will move on ya
Young niggaz that keep them tools on ya
They quick to let them blickas blast (bang bang)
So crazy the way we get this cash (How we livin?)
Real hot up on these murderous blocks (blaatat blaatat)
Broad day bang bang I know you heard all them shots

[Outro: Denise Weeks]
Livin the life with a rider seems it's the only thing that I'm gonna run to
That's when you light and get high with me
Look what the ghetto's did to me (baby)
And when you finish runnin the streets
I'll be the only one that you gonna run to
Just getting paper and ducking police
Look what the ghetto did to me (yeah)
Look what the ghetto did to me
Look what the ghetto did to me
Look what the ghetto did to me (eh eh ehhh)
Look what the ghetto did to me
Look what the ghetto did to me
Look what the ghetto did to me (eh eh ehhh)

[Bizzy Bone "Chorus in background"]
Turn my vocals up.....turn my vocals up, turn'em, turn'em up, a little more
Turn'em up a little more, turn'em up a little, yeah there we go yeah, uh yeah

[Bizzy Bone]
Born in the poverty probably we never get off the monopoly, won't we just stop
it
with all the monotony, look at me awkwardly hide my broccoli, nigga what
Fuck the media, how could you come to me, follow me, bother me, tell me to
simmer it down
Part of the system is worser now, melody murder must've ran
What if the rapture happens, nigga just deeper than rapping vanish or not
Never gone change my style, I do what I wanna pop, 'til the "Body Rot" stop
Generation X, I am the mastermind, general militants seven times, revolution
rebellious, totally out of line
I still in the mind of apocalyptic, biblical optimistic
Thank my lucky stars, never I say my graces, I'm so thankful god
Take me to the promise land, all I see is cops with guns
Soap in my sock, county charges stuck in the struggle with number one
Never will have a friend like me, reality checking the crooked judge
Man because the rapping is over, we fucking soldiers, we fucking thugs
And ain't nobody stopping my fucking drugs
If I can melt down the words, and put them in plastic sucks, rip it to the
nation, let it go what, what
Bitch I would speak your mind, even if they offended you 'cous
Ride off in the sun set, with the streets niggas 'cause that's who I love
Standing next to Capo twin towers shoot up to the heaven sky
We rolling down the ninety-five, take the bridge, I'm ready to
die..................

[Bizzy Bone]
For the grace of Capo... for the grace of Capo, in the moment of silence,
now the grace of Capo, in the moment of silence, in the mist of tyrants and
silence,
and the demon malignancies, motherless children are born, poppa the one who
murdered her,
witness the vision first hand plumping master of source of us

[Jim Jones]
By the, grace of Capo, in the moment of silence, in the mist of tyrants and
violence,
I'm flossing my diamonds, by the grace of Capo, in he mist of the hood, and it
should be all good,
But murders go down, you know they go down

[Jim Jones]
Straight out the projects b, I'm telling ya'll it was so hard for me (so hard)
Coming up hard in these Harlem streets, where niggas will starve, cause it's
hard to eat
Some niggas will rob in the hardcore streets, ridiculous all it's hard concrete
(watch it)
Bitches the boosters the credit card scammers, niggas that shoot cause they all
gone blame us
People they shoot cause they cocky 'bout scanners (scwalay!)
So if watch where the birds fly, (watch it) don't speed when you swerve high
Cause believe me the third eye, put the squeeze on your whole ride (lock down)
See I'm always in the rear view, see the law in your rear view (what else) pray
to the lord he can hear you (why)
I'm the nigga on the corner, plus my niggas on the corner bring same shit
Three carry gripes in the crime in heaven, I'm in this Fahrenheit called 9/11
When I go to the cross roads, lord knows Ferrari white, mean highway to heaven
(forgive them lord)
And these digital times, we all need to have a political mind (that's right)
Federology, technology, and we can shine like astrology (they can see from the
stars)
When we walking on eggshells, when you talk on next cells (what happens)
When you talking on fed cells (listen to me) and we all on sex cells (whooo)
When the drugs and rock-n-roll, and when the drugs lock your soul
Don't blame it on 'caine, got rich when the reggae came (that's right)
Bill Clinton rejuvenated us (yeah), all been the Bush's hoovernated us (stupid)
Police will soon be chasing us (that's right), the streets they be afraid of us
(yeah)
From cutting up raw, from frying up coke, give a fuck about war
We ain't trying to voting (voting)
So if you draft me jail me (you hear that)
Or better yet kill me (uh-huh) 'cause I rather go to hell b, and there's nothing
you can tell me
Cause we risking ourselves, just sit in the cell, over punk as nigga in cells
(damn)
All the grief in the cells, spin on shelves, I'm running out of time, cause I'm
living in hell (yeah)

[Jim Jones]
By the, grace of Capo in this moment of silence, in the mist of the violence,
the mist of tyrants,
Flossing my diamonds......yeah, by the grace of Capos nigga, you heard, that's
two strong armies nigga
Two under bosses we can't be stopped, we will not be brought down like the twin
towers
We some political soldiers ghettolutionists, we freedom fighters

[Jim Jones]
Got this problem with these niggaz on the other side of town
Plus my little homey Pop-la-di he's a rider now
So you know he want some answers off top he ridin down
With them automatic weapons, load and fire in the pound (bang bang)
Hood devestated, prayin that they let him make it
Heard it 'bout the incident, it's crazy how he just got faded (it's fucked up)
But it's better places, G's call it heaven's Matrix
Pray the Lord open up, they told me how heaven's gated (let a thug in)
Certified, decorated
Murder never hesitated, I heard it was premeditated (who told you that)
And my whole hood segregated
Harlem World's so small, but my whole ghetto dedicated (Eastside, Westside)
We was young, loose cannons
Shoot cannons, point aim, broad day, wherever you standin (fuck that do it now)
We live our life as a G
Day and, night with the heat, rollin dice on the street
Now come on

[Chorus 4X: Jim Jones]
Do doves fly, when thugs cry?
Here's a story 'bout the trials and tribulations of this thug life

[Jim Jones]
Now, play the game, know the code, say no names
Fast life ain't no game, R.I.P. Baby Main
He was large in the game, slingin thangs
Shiny rings, diamond chains, he's a star in my hood (he was ?)
All the cars, V12 by the hood
Had the jets, had the strip, had the power, he was livin that life
New whips every hour, it's a shame, in my hood
He'll be missed like the Towers in the midst of the prowess
Not to put his business out there (uh-huh)
But the kid'll make you think that Po Rich was out here (like '86)
And in these stories it mainly contain the lobby
About the young and the restless like Harlem's main {?}

[Chorus]

[Jim Jones]
We light and chill, each night we would chill
Block number, fifty-{?}-seven, movin white for them bills
Stashin open rice for it stales, I tried to tell you
That my life is so real, they dog me in and bring me home nine-trey
Took the city on my own crime raid (N.Y.C.)
Invadin clubs, with brazy bloods (tell 'em)
Tell Peter Geisha what's up, back to the saga, when Light got killed
It's like one side of my life is killed, for real
And Chills turned state fed, couldn't deal with a state bed
But snitchin breaks the code, gotta lie in your made bed (you know the rules)
No sympathy homey, you gotta follow them codes
You get a thousand years of die in that hole (G's up)

[Chorus]

(Juelz Santana)
Dipset bitch
Juelz Santana(yeah)
2004 its a brand new muthafuckin year
i hope you know that(you already know)
And we are in total control once a-muthafuckin-gain nigga(ook)
Dipset in the building
Juelz Santana, Jim Jones, Killa muthafuckin Cam, Freeky Zeeky

(Juelz Santana)
Live from the bottom of the pot where crack is cooked at
Im back like cooked crack
and i rap like cooked crack
and dats a good match
and dats cum good crack
My gun hotter then the stove is on
So hot even i thought the stove was on
But the stove was off
i was jus rolling hot
i was jus rome the block
Hard body im a rolling block
Dodge squally, i dont know the cops
I dont know them rats
No, i dont condone in that
Im in my zone infact, aint no holing back
The 4'll mac when the beefin is on
Niggas cheat when its on
Niggas get reef wen its on
They cant believe when its on but its me wen its on(pooh)
But it is and this is what i do so
What it is, what is be, whats the sccop yo
Normally i dont ask that
Normally i just blast that but you an exception pussy
Ya girl told me you jus obsessed with pussy and you cant fuck you just upset the pussy
Im sumthin mean to watch
my machine'll pop
life off ya halipino top
Now i've been seen in drop coops oops
Radar ditectors(poop poop)
You cant catch me copper
You just upset me copper
Im on a jet ski copper(haha)

(Chorus - Juelz Santana 2x)
Now if this aint gangsta and that aint gangsta then what is gangsta
Nigga i am gangsta, who aint gangsta, you aint gangsta

(Jim Jones)
The truth is im what the games been needin
Food for thought, the fuck man you lames been eating (them lies)
I move, the streets do follow
I speed race, not through the streets (why) cuz police do follow
so watch em
These niggas throw flappy and sick(thats right)
We young cold flashy and rich
Plus we gun hoe and spz on a bitch
Cuz we dont pay for the pussy
The beef cum we dont lay for the pussy
Fuck em, Watch em, got em, spot em, pop em, drop em(lay em down)
Now Lord forgive us(pray for us)
Gangstas(say what) We all religious
And y'all wangstas i swear you give us the shivers
Dipset, the new black panthers
the boys ask us questions man we do not answer
Life's too short for me to pull my pants up
Im tryna let my nuts hang, system out the truck bang bang
Thats Certified Gangsta
You heard about me well then you heard about gangsta
Ill beat the brace off a nigga
but im tryna keep the tapes off a nigga
To get rich we do whatever we have to do
And when we hit the hood our bregins be grabbin you
Foul hundreds the 7th's Avenue
And niggas feel the pressure whenever we mashin through

(Chorus)

(Bezel)
You aint gangsta, Listen up
I grip a pump, squeeze 3
and have any OG bitchin up
Man he a missing chump
And if not the big glock, our big shots so doc cant stith him up
Im from the city wher its easy to make do
Easy to bake Hoes
its easy to make 4's
you gettin them pencils
the pigs and the checks know
nex week theyll have you sittin on stake road
From HOC to CF to CF
cant hold me im prone to this BS
So imagine Bez on the phone gettin key check
fresh outta DC lampin in the GS
Thats how niggas do go get a clip or 2
fifth or glock, get a block, hit the spot, flip a few
And for a brick or 2
the led i carry, shit
im reditary, and ya kids could get it too

(Chorus)

JIM JONES LYRICS

Crunk Muzik

Yeah! Ay! Dip-Set! Come on...
Black-out, lets do it...
Dip, dip-set!
Dip, dip, dip, dip-set
Dip, dip, dip-set, dip-set
Dip, dip, dip, dip

[Juelz Santana]
Now this here is that bomb diggy (diggy)
Diggy dang, the dons with me
Killa, he'll kill a nigga you thinkin' harming me
Capo's corrupted (yop), he's wrong vato to fuck wit (yop)
Labeled and known as a young Pac to the public
And me, Human Crack in the flesh (flesh)
I'm the last of the best (best)
One word to describe me (what), spectacular, YES!
So stay calm shorty, when you see that palmed .40 (.40?)
I'll pop it slow, you'll rock and roll, like Bon Jovi
So don't fool with the click (Ay!)
Don't fool with the Dips (Ay!)
You will die, you will lie in a pool full of shit (Ay!)
When that gun with the clip in (what)
Start dumpin' and rippin', (yop)
At ya'll head, ya'll some dead summamabitches (Ay!)
You give a chick hard dick and bubblegum (Ay!)
I give a chick a hard brick and bubble-yum (Ay!)
Like here, take that, shake that, break that (Ay!)
In half and please bring me cake back

[Chorus:]
[Juelz Santana] You kow what the movements like
You know how movin', right
Move, cause we in the mood to fight
[Jim Jones] This is that get crunk move bitch
Get drunk stupid
High like space, .45 on waist
[Juelz Santana] You kow what the movements like
You know how movin', right
Move, cause we in the mood to fight
[Jim Jones] This is that get crunk move bitch
Get drunk stupid
High like space, .45 on waist

[Jim Jones]
This is that bang, bang, bang
To my hooligan, gang
While you movin' them thangs
And ya toolies go blast (silence)
Call me Richochet Rabbit
Cause I click and spray matics
And my niggaz straight savage (Goonies!)
Penelope pump let off six whole rounds (boom!)
'Fore (boom!) one (boom!) shell (boom!) hit (boom!) the (boom!) ground
In the hood he known as a Capo
To the goons and the heights its all tato (TATO!)
Aint gotta know me some vato
In the heights to move on some pato (demelo)
Ok muchacho, they told me that you got it tato (meda)
I know movin' someone know we usually gone pop you (te matan)
This that 9 double 1, with a 9 double m
If its crime lets have fun, lets have fun, lets have fun
This that o trizzy 1, triple o, whoa, whoa
If you scared get ya gun (get ya gun, get ya gun)
This that uptop crunk
When the truck stop, dump
This where the bucks stop chump (dump, dump, dump)

[Chorus:]
[Juelz Santana] You know what the movemets like
You know how me movin', right
Move, cause we in the mood to fight
[Jim Jones] This is that get crunk move bitch
Get drunk stupid
High like space, .45 on waist

[Cam'Ron]
That rooti, tooti, fruity, Louie, what I usually do (what's this?)
This that jump, stop, breathe, whoody-who
Gats in the truck
Platt, platt, pass to a duck
I'm the menace, owe me money, tat, tat, tat, what the fuck
(You ome me money motherfucker!?)
Ya'll reppin' that 5 still
I'm reppin' that 5 mill
Neverland, thriller, Killa Cam, Jackson 5 bill (so what!)
Lets style a bit, Italian shit, $5000 spent
Show you how to get that powder shit
Filed the fifth, jet out of it
My proud of what is yo' turn, Jim so burned
Live bitch, why kiss, on my wrist a glowworm ($50,000)
And I keep heat, cause in these streets (what you hear?)
Just hear woop, woop, whant, whant, beep, beep (that's the cops)
And you rumble, never, me, hit a humble diva (a few of 'em)
And I stay with the white, I got Jungle Fever (nose candy)
So tell Lucccaay (what)
That her boobi's, loco, cookie monster, who he (who am I?)
I'm the 1 the rep the set
Left to left, death to death
You be yellow-taped, outlined, etch-a-sketched..
Killa

[Chorus:]
[Juelz Santana] You know what the movements like
You know how we movin', right
Move, cause we in the mood to fight
[Jim Jones] This is that get crunk move bitch
Get drunk stupid
High like space, .45 on waist
[Juelz Santana] You know what the movements like
You know how we movin', right
[Jim Jones] This is that get crunk move bitch
Get drunk stupid
High like space, 45 on waist

Blackout Music

[Chorus: Jim Jones]
Bend, Eastside could you stretch then bend
Westside could you stretch then bend
Southside could you stretch then bend
Midwest could you stretch then bend
N.Y.C. could you stretch then bend
M-I-A could you stretch then bend
A-T-L won't you stretch then bend
St. Louis won't you stretch then bend

[Jim Jones]
I guess you hear that I'm a live wire (say what)
Loose nigga and a 5 rider
Run with the city's biggest drug dealers (DipSet)
For you sissy rap fuck niggaz (fuck 'em)
Yeah we pistol packin, bust niggaz (bang bang)
Never worry 'bout the spotlight (nuh-uh)
This star nigga keep the glock tight (that's right)
That's for the jackers at the spotlight (watch 'em)
To live and die in the streets of New York
We gettin by, pumpin diesel and snort
I'm gettin high in the seats of my Porsche
Federales love to see me in court
And tell the Lord I hope you keep me in thought (pray for me)
But I'm a G, who gives a fuck what you think
And fuck the D's, roll my weed and fill my cup full of drink
You got some beef, then we gotta do it
You got some ki's, show you how to move it (uh-huh)
And four birds'll get a extra pigeon (what else)
And that's a bird with an extra clip in
We on the curb where my niggaz dealin
That's how my niggaz livin

[Chorus]

[Jim Jones]
So now we ballin in the major leagues
Yellow bottles and some hazy weed (Cristal)
Got some models with that Maybeline (so pretty)
Fancy rides, pushin major speeds (Westside)
Westside when we race the Beems (Eastside)
Break laws 'til the day I leave (no doubt)
Hardcore and a brazy G (Eastside)
Yo pull the bar when we makin cheese (Harlem)
"Harlem World," so "Double Up" (oh)
And all my girls still love a thug
A heartthrob and a wild rebel
I park cars through the foul ghetto (so what)
A rolling stone but I hold my own (then what)
These golden stones have you niggaz on press
I hold the chrome so you niggaz don't step (watch it)
You better party, do your bend and your stretch
And it's a promise, I ain't sendin no threats (I promise you)
Sheeit, DipSet, the new mob niggaz
No need to ask cause you know we on our job nigga

[Chorus]

[Jim Jones]
To all my bitches wearin thick incense (hey girl)
You know it tickles when you kiss my neck (stop that)
Them icicles on my wrist and neck (blingin)
Your wife wit you well don't disrespect (sup nigga)
Could be an issue, keep yo' bitch in check (fuck that bitch)
My thug aura make a bitch loose (uh-uh)
It ain't a party 'til the Dips do it (bird game)
Smokin reefer, screamin Eastside (purple)
Loaded heaters, that's how we ride (we ride)
All the time was my reply, I'm from the G-side (G-side)
Checkin for hotties that's sexy in {?}
Seven jeans and Giuseppes and Noti's, we ask at the party
You tryin to slide let me know somethin
Hop in the ride we can blow somethin (that purple)
Baby no lie I give you no stuntin (no frontin)
Duckin pictures from the paparazzi (watch the cameras)
Tuck your fifth up in my Maseratti (we loaded)
Shit, I park the whip in front of the project lobby
I keep it gully and the car all foggy, muh'fuckers just

[Chorus]

[Jim Jones]
I grew up in the 'jects, five inch what I press
Fry way to hold a tec, live bait I'm so brazy man
In them pissy staircases, we just sittin here
Waitin with them crystal clear cases tryin to make a sale
When that wreck came around, I'm in the trench with my pound
I'm pitchin you cracks and the bench is my mound (what's good)
It ain't no freezin this game, I'm in the freezin the rain
Tryin to make G's off the 'caine so I can freeze up a chain (Jacob!)
Or put the Spre's on the thang (spinners!)
So I can speed through the game (vroom!)
That's why I think kinda different, and some think that I'm twisted
Cause I smoke too much, and I drink 'til I'm twisted (I'm on point)
I'm tryin to maintain to stay afloat (that's right)
Cause that main game of shavin coke is goin down the tubes (that's a wrap)
That's why I'm downin booze, I stay surround by dudes
That chew down my food, bon appetit - chow time

[Jim Jones]
The purple, HAZE, keep scorchin and burnin
Nightmares at night I wake up in sweat, tossin and turnin (I can't sleep)
I'm light on my sleep, I can't get a wink, I might miss somethin
I think if I blink I might miss somethin (what happened what happened)
Constantly rollin up haze (uh-huh)
As I stomp through this block man they throwin up treys (Eastside)
We from the streets, know the struggle, know the hustle
Know the hook, know to cut it, know to double (know that price)
Now if you don't change your mind, change your grind
Don't get caught in the facade, don't get caught up on a charge
(Don't be facin six) You know that life goes by
Just as fast as them nights goes by
Hold fast, them blue and whites go by (SQUALIE!)
We movin white, whole pies
Hope to God that the law or the vice don't ride (SQUALIE!)
We been trapped in our own hustle
You see the government's the powder but the crack is our own hustle
We smart ain't we?

[Jim Jones]
Sheeit, the heat's in the kitchen, I speak to you listen
The beef if it thicken the heat'll stay clickin, believe that?
I'll be burnin water, while I turn the corners (uh-huh)
I'll be more than gone as {?}
R.I.P., man that's kind of redundant
Niggaz, dyin off dumb shit, bullets fly when the gun spit
Plus, man they ridin to dump clips (yes sir!)
In hooped up whips, the place miss and I scoop up with
the eighth in 'em, they shoot up shit and straight get 'em (boom)
They chew up shit like straight sick 'em (sick 'em)
Over that turf or strip, or that work the bricks
We'll squirt the shotty, and disperse your squad-dy (woo)
That's the code of my land
Over that blue and them grams, niggaz blowin your man (we gon' get 'em)
Get you all shot over hoes for a grand
Man, death is so cheap in my hood - short paper

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