Lyrics:
self you ain't scared when I run in
your chick I ain't bout no games woady its your life or yo bitch
Apologize when I pass by bootin my grill
3rd
on a fuckin blunts
till my minds about to blow
motherfuck the universe
because we brought you da end, hoe
[Juicy J]
first I want to grab a nigga by his
this game on some real love shit
And ya'll bitch ass niggaz, ya'll wanted me to quit
Because the way I dress ill and the way that I spit
But I ain't
hoes, they so happy I ain't married yet
And I still walk down the aisle with a plastic Tec
Haha..
[Interlude: Trife Da God]
Uh, that's what I'm talking
survival, liabale, to burn up every bible
'Cause ain't no fuckin wit my style, dial 1-800-fuck-it
'Cause I'm zoned up out my mind,
And based on the notion
remember days
I got demon ways I’m just trying to get saved
Yea trapping in my J’s ain’t got time to get laid
Yea closes by my side girl you feel like my
I can't seem to keep my head straight
Cuz all deez people hanging round me dey just dead weight
And I had to cut some niggaz off
Dey was to fake
I
motherfuckin' wow
Draped in some fuckin' ICE be ERG
or jeans with white motherfuckin tees
[Juicy J]
Ridin Heavy Chevy thang foot on the gas
sippin on that syrup
this game on some real love shit
And ya'll bitch ass niggaz, ya'll wanted me to quit
Because the way I dress ill and the way that I spit
But I ain't
too long
Probly still suck it if she pulled it out and showed ya
Tonite were gettin closure,I'm pointin out folks
Pullin niggaz cards, exposin what
Shit, tired of gettin shot at
Tired of gettin chased by the police and arrested
Niggaz need a spot where WE can kick it
A spot where WE belong,
the shows
I don't buy bars
I own the floor
I get higher than an airplane
Juicy J is the new rick James
My ear is goin' rocky
And my wrist's all froze
(Hey) Throw those deuces up
And add a six on it
Call me Yung J O C I'm bout to spit on it (yeah)
I'ma put it on her (yeah)
I'ma I'ma put it on her
Scoob if we was playin cards
But if I got beef and it's time for code red
My drill is like a hoe, and be takin mad niggaz to bed
So hurry up
by Open Bar, so y'all forget it
[Chorus]
Call it what you wanna call it
I'm a fuckin Alkaholik
Bring it if you really want it
Ain't gotta put no
on the school bus
I be like No
Didn't have Paper
Couldn't take Notes
I ain't have a green card
So a nigga couldn't vote
Never had friends
Only had Foes
Cuz niggaz
like loves a toss
A bit of false emotion
I believe in attachments
I don't get lost in closing
Chapters written by the author Malcolm J
A - M - A-L,
don't kiss and tell that's why i ain't mentioning names
Your niggaz is boring as hell niggaz can not entertain hey hey
In the industry I'm back ready
you ain't even gonna work this time
You ain't gonna work the door this time
You gonna party
You gonna sit right next to DJ mhara
I still got
Ge, geah it's the J are O
The whole world love the way I, flow
Puff 'dro but I don't sniff, blow
Alkaholiks make dough oh, no
Now you know you love
[Juicy J]
I can make that thang wet like a sponge bob
Wishin that she present I be standing man that's so hard
We got all the haters in the club and they
got that juicy flow yea
I got that juice
I got that bag
I got that ratchet flow yea
Look whose
(popn)
Look whose
(popn)
Look whose
(popn)
Look whose
(Hey) Throw those deuces up
And add a six on it
Call me Yung J O C I'm bout to spit on it (yeah)
I'ma put it on her (yeah)
I'ma I'ma put it on her
[Kriminul]
For real hip hop niggaz..
J.I.G. Mastas..
For days on I hear the same song sayin' nothin new
I'm in the cunt gettin' my blaze
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