Lyrics:
street niggaz
And white boys that'll eat niggaz
I don't need a butcher to do my reppin
I get mines with a heat nigga
Pass by the spot wit' yo piece
Smokin'
[chorus]
To the kids in the p.j.'s
ghetto children i know it ain't easy
ya'll wanting millions
sunshine turns to rain
its ghetto pain
when a one time
dollar
[Juicy J]
Back when I was broke
didnt nobody wanna fuck wit me
hangin wit my nigga D.
Magic in this property
snipers gaurdin niggas
wit them
Now Aaron Tyler, tell my why you seem so tame
When I caught you at the airport, shakin' like a crap game
You looked up and you seen my niggaz comin
Punch the data in ya mainframe
You want it all, I want the same thing
Strive to maintain, live out my name
Hard to obtain, hard to explain, ain't
The m-1, close-casin' em
Defacin em like county property
He'd die for me
Spittin' on your whole image, I rob you and make a mockery
Yo ya see that party by
I can wreck that hoe
It's Jay'Ton, in this bitch with that boy J-Mo
[T2]
I'm J'd up, you can tell by my clothes
I'm iced up, cause my whole body
And your talent didn't expand nigga
I really fucked witchu
I ain't see another level than you
In '03 I fought a nigga for
Sayin' J-Hood was better than you
ain't even gotta say it
When I say it's going down, SK start spraying
Block E-N-T, and A.B.N. niggaz in charge
Ery'body mugging, nigga face different
what happened
I keep it a hunnid Benji you niggaz a hunnid pennies
You a kinda ass nigga And umma up all kind of semis
You prolly should go find ya
Yeah, Desert Storm niggaz, Cain
Ghetto, I got these niggaz man
Clue, I'm the first line of defense
(Yeah)
And I'ma show 'em what that means
I
coward ass nigga - you ain't tough
Fakin jax, I'ma call your motherfuckin bluff
Niggaz that violate get me vexed
Son got the mac, Noyd got
the floor for keys
[rpt 2x]
[Juicy J]
Which one of you rappers wanna feel them shots
Sayin that Juicy J fuck you out your record money flop
Hope you know
together, together we gettin' cheddar
You dudes, you know better, why
He's a rider
J.R. Writer:
Listen pal, I ain't gotta spit, child you is not as sick
Foul
can't talk about ice no more
But they ain't tell me I can't start another fight no more
I get it crunk in the club, niggaz get drunk in the club
When I
can't talk about ice no more
But they ain't tell me I can't start another fight no more
I get it crunk in the club, niggaz get drunk in the club
When I
solid aint no need for bringin' me around
Cause loose lips sink ships, leave'em in the ground
So I social distance from niggaz jus' give they fist a pound
back, admit it
J'ai encore some dope in the kitchen
Money on money, galore
Stacking Bricks like trynna built a fucking Castle
Flexing on these niggaz
I
Punch the data in ya mainframe
You want it all, I want the same thing
Strive to maintain, live out my name
Hard to obtain, hard to explain, ain't
pussy's so good and your mouth tight
A pretty face, slim waist, and her stout nice
Juicy ass that them niggaz in the south like
She super sexy, got
""hell yea"" (hell yea)
If you believe in having sex say ""hell fuck yea"" (yes sir)
[Verse 1: Juicy J]
Shawty throw me that ass, hold up let me see it
the Ave
Plus Ruger's the name
Familiar with Ferraris
I ain't new to the Range
I know y'all niggaz was waitin' for it, the waitin's over
Here it come y'all,
a glass
Nigga drink it out the bottle.
Don't be hatin' and shit
'Cause we gettin' paid and shit
Ain't no need be lyin' till I die
I'm gonna be lovin'
[Talkbox Parts]
[Intro/Talkbox]
It's the Mafia
[Lil Cease]
Uh, uh, say what, say what
It's the J-M-C in the motherfuckin' house y'all niggaz
ain't
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