Lyrics:
the part when he be like
"Jimmy got soul, Jimmy got soul
Jimmy got, Jimmy got, jimmy got soulll!"
protection
The want us to send a message to Jimmy the bartender
Lend a friend the money next you're ripping off his car fenders
He's coming up short
every bit of
Confidence from your conscious wit' it
Toss it to my man in the back field
He got options wit' it
Obama phone, really came in handy
I lined
Jimmy was a friend who never left me
If people were out to get me
He would hold nothing back to roll them
There was that time I was broke and empty
I
koshuis stort
Sê hy totsiens vir kind wees ja hy moes so gou man word
Hy gaan swot BCom Rek
Dis wat sy pa wou hê
Groot wees is nie vir dromers is al wat hy
Jimmy would always look out
At all the motorcycles
As they passed him by
In his mama's car
They was going somewhere
Not very far
But jimmy just sat
I got my own shoe
(Game that shit ain't gon' sell)
So? The ad's in the magazines
Nobody can't tell
(Good luck wit yo next album man
I hope it does
And he'll grab you by the head and squeeze it till it
Pops
And shake your muthafuckin' neck until your head flops
'Cause I'm runnin' with the bee-yacht,
sir
I'm sharp and up to date. Jimmy Reed, Vice President,
Little Johnny Taylor, Secretary of State.
I got the foreign policy numbers 444,
it come to puttin' limits don't put none on me you'll see
God by my side overcomin' everything
Openin' up my eyes and he makin' me believe
it walk on by
When it comes to me and Jenny
I seem (very serious) like a Peek Freen
Buddy is the act that occurs on the lip
When Jenny and Jimmy
it walk on by
When it comes to me and Jenny
I seem (very serious) like a Peek Freen
Buddy is the act that occurs on the lip
When Jenny and Jimmy
honey, don't you have no doubt
Honey if, Jimmy Reed, can't get in, ain't nobody comin' out
The door's unlocked, the chains are down
Real quiet inside,
else)
Fuck arguing and harvesting the feelings, yo, I'd rather be by my fucking self
(Self, self, self, self)
'Til about two AM And I call back and I
through it, right
And, I'll never forget it I had like eight rhyme books--he'll tell you, he'll tell you man
I just, I went through them motherfuckers I
the remix
I go by the name of Sacario
[Fat Joe] Yeah!
[Sacario] Angela, Joey Crack
[Fat Joe] Pick the music up man
[Angie M] Let's do it
[Sacario] We 'gon
to reach the local YMCA, where he was receiving fahjahly advice from Father Bill in the midst of an uncomfortably religious bout of racquetball.
The man in
car
Blowing horns like Miles Davis
At the pearly gate, God let me in
Give me a room by Aaliyah with ESPN
I know I got more sins than two lesbians
Been
to tackle some vets
Yes, now it's true indeed who is he (who's he) I got Diplomatic Immunity (uh)
What can y'all do to me (what)
I wasn't given a set, I
on patrol
I be looking for a man who going by Jimmy Lo
Man he popped right up the back
And said yo I think you should
I didn't do shit
I didn't hit Hash
But
Jimmy's not a high concept guy
But he's front page news, let me tell you why
He's on the cover of the New York Post
Every network, coast to coast
daddy.
Baby now baby understand.
Jimmy looks good but he's a half a man.
Roy looks cool but he's oh so cold.
And then a big old junker gonna wreck
somebody kissing my baby last night
My baby said Jimmy that's all right
[Chorus: x3]
Baby now baby understand
Jimmy looks good but he's a happy man
somebody kissing my baby last night
My baby said Jimmy that's all right
[Chorus: x3]
Baby now baby understand
Jimmy looks good but he's a happy man
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