Tommy's Theme

The LOX, Made Men Buy

FAVORITE (1 fan)


The Lox are an American hip hop group composed of Jadakiss, Sheek Louch, and Styles P. They were originally signed to Sean Combs' Bad Boy Records before joining Ruff Ryders Entertainment, and are now a part of their own label, D-Block Records more »


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Yeah, yeah, yo, yo

Runnin' your mouth, I'd have you with a gun in your mouth
Two in your throat, look now, your son is in doubt
Whether or not he should think of pulling his Glock
Matter of fact, my nigga got a gun to his back
Squeeze three, turn him around, and he gave him a smack
Take the joint off his waist and hit him with that
Shit is for real, so niggas better get in and chill
It ain't the bullets that'll kill, it's a nigga wit' will
Just give me the word, all my niggas get it with birds
I'm from the 'hood, so I stood on the curb, nigga, ya heard?
Die in the war, I'd probably resurrect on the floor
Then get up, yellin' for more, bangin' the four
Nigga, we made, touch more niggas than AIDS
Bust my gun at the sun just to sit in the shade
We livin' it up, got big niggas shrivelin' up
Sick in they house, dyin' with they dick in they mouth
Pitch and I swing, you oughta be kissin' my ring
I'm doing my thing, lawyer money, outta the bing
You gonna either be a coward or king, cream of the crop
One phone call and the Ninas a pop
Lovin' the wealth, f*ck it I'ma do it myself

For my juvenile niggas (what)
State Penn niggas (what)
LOX niggas (what)
And Made Men niggas (what)

Run in the truck, hit the dashboard, turn on the lights (uh huh)
I hit the switch twice
Some shit come out that's ending your life (what, what)
We use revolvers, no shells
Who the f*ck gon' tell?
But for the big crews
I let my shit go pratata at y'all fairies
And watch I make a POW like the World Series is won
I told y'all about fucking with son
Steady my guns, from the biggest to the littlest ones
.22 behind the ear and the big shit that we kill deers with
Be on the roof, on some Dead President shit
Long scope, barrel all open to the public, I love it
F*ck it! I have to take a rifle home and hug it
What you know about that, love? Black gloves
No back up, only this vest
Only these tefs, only these lefts
Fishermen knives that cut in your chest
If I get jerked, it's like a nigga in the Army that f*ck up
The whole squad gon' do push ups 'til somebody page me
But instead of calisthenics, y'all gon' push up daisies
You crazy?
Now, what the f*ck was y'all thinkin'?
I leave your body where your boys be at for a weekend
Niggas comin' outta the store like what the f*ck is that stink, bitch?

Word, I stay strapped with the Platinum gat
I say raps over Hangmen tracks
And make hot wax, nigga, with the LOX cats
Bad Boys and Made Men mad mayhem
We'll leave you hogtied and shot up at the Days Inn
Sprayin' rounds in you from every level caliber
My calicos, automatically mechanical
Botanical Garden, douja
F*ck a sergeant with my folder
Roll like Red October over Small Soldier
Your flack-jacket, won't react when I splash it
Your dome's gon' catch it off my laser beam gadget
Steal your bitch like a base in a game of baseball
And don't sweat, lookin' for heat, I can't wait to face y'all
If my name's called out, y'all niggas gon' fall outta position
'Cause punk MC'ing is like snitchin'
Get hung from third tier, in your underwear
Pour lighter fluid in your hair, spark it up for the New Year

With eight pounds of Heavy Metal like a rock star
Twin Barettas, I owe vendettas, positions locked down
I'm with the LOX now, you better play your block now
My gattin' average stay a thousand, I'm major league
I make you bleed, my aim's bueno, we play no
Gamed with you niggas 'cause you small pressed (small pressed)
I clap you in your hallway, run you for all your riches
While bums fucking all your bitches
I played it back, press playback, you know that
My team wanna hear that
They blood thirsty, certainly kill those who hunt me
My Made Men worthy, putting slugs through your derby (yeah)
Benzino make you fanito (what)
You're all done (what)
Don't trust a nigga in the back while you ridin' shotgun

I get you wild criminal
Skill to kill when the beat spill
Spark into a windmill, cold-hearted feel the chill
Internationally known, nationally recognized
Locally accepted from my peeps on the streets
'Cause they know I rep it
Don't get caught in the path of something that is Man Made
Something Hell raised, bred to twist a nigga sideways
It's wild all over, they startin' out young
The shells come and Hell come, they kickin' dust from (dust from)
The South's dirty dirty, up North is filthy
The East is a jungle, the West is wild
Feel me? 
So, I spit the hot shit like Glock clips symphian
You feelin' and receivin' what's expressed on the other end
Jesus got the strength of 20 men high off the Henn
Got no other way to live my life but live it in sin (in sin)
'Cause Rosemary's baby got the Devil within (got the Devil)
I make it hot when you wanna blow the spot
Say when, or say LOX and Made Men, nigga

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Written by: Anthony Grant, David Styles, Jason Phillips, Jeff Neal, John Bynoe Jr., Marco A Ennis, Raymond E Scott, Sean Jacobs

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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    Tommy's Theme

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