Lyrics:
to jail no a mo' mo'
(Chorus x2)
(Project Pat)
Ba-ba-buka chickens don't be kissin me
Like Alfred Hitchcock this really ain't no mystery
Tha game don't
Jea! Re-Up! A J-Classic classic razzy
Rest in peace Justo
I'm about to air these niggas out one time
Yo yo, ain't no nigga like the one right here
ridin' fully loaded, plus cut, whatever suits me
Lil Buck and all your kinfolk, you know the click was my folk
South Memphis bout to blow up, boo-hoo
What you looking for, what you looking for, what you need? (chorus 8x)
(juicy j)
It's about 7:30, a nigga out there early early
I'm on the ? burna?
erratically, sweating profusely
Loosey goosey
Probably burn you like a Juicy Lucy
Getting in touch with inner hoochie
Beneath the table
Flashing her coochi
Baby face, traje haze y baeleys
Le di play a marvin gaye, y me agregue a su playlist
I thing is better, jugar sin peros
Como lallie in memphis, la vi
in my abdomen
Camouflage fatigues, and daishikis
Somewhere in between N.W.A. and P.E.
I'm black like Steve Biko
Raised in the ghetto by the people
Fuck
Haha, you dumbass
Yeah, Juicy J AKA Da Juice up in this bitch and I'm out
Yeah, this Lil' Fly up in this motherfucker
Straight from funky town, ho
you
My ozone is frozone bitch I’m cold where’s my super suit
Gotta stay fly like Juicy J I move through the roof
You don’t fuck with me but stuck wit me
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
Safe tryna hustle 'round here think there's money to be made
You'll get robbed by somebody underage
We don't rock brands like Vans, only J's
We don't
I know, I know you watchin'
Silly bitch, stop tellin' 'em lies, hoes, stop spreadin' them rumors
Juicy J, self made skinny nigga, pockets on Yokozuna
it's my last day
Fuck like it's my last day (yes sir)
Fuck boys wanna blast me (Juicy J)
This might be your last day (Joe Budden let's get it)
But it
pound
Five-foot-five, on some deep shit
Used to get no love, now they're like
"he's sick" everywhere I go, yeah
They wanna hear me spit
The most improved
know about no Memphis shootin
If you ever see me in the streets, don't ever mention music
My nigga back there for the strikers, shit, I'm just pick
felt like Common Sense
Promise I did more for my niggas than them Obamas did
Late-night stepping like Thriller you niggas dead to me
Tagging 7th
buttons
Went to Memphis just to go get me some ice, Lester Hudson
Roll up a 7, feel like C.J. Stroud
Take care of my family, Oscar Proud
I beat her back,
Jack
Nickel said J.I.D. so flame I propane rap
I'm from East Atlanta like Gucci and Travis Porter
But my story is similar to the hare and the tortoise
[DJ Paul, Project Pat, Juicy J. (Chorus x4)]
Pure Anna for you hoes, Pure Anna for you hoes,
With the - with the hollow-point shells, man,
Man,
favorite. Say I drop too slow no offense. Non-taken
Pull up on Blood he posted up by Macon. He don't like talking Pop you like bacon
Life is what you make it
Tip toe on a bitch like Mike jack
Slam dunk a hoe like Mike j
Biting on your ear like Mike T
A lot of colors like Ice T
Fuck is you talking about
salt and plenty green stuff
Like spirulina,
PH9 round alkaline
Squeeze these juicy clementines
So sweet, each bite is sublime
Helps you to see ahead
And if it's anything less than real, that ain't for me
We the best like DJ Khaled but it ain't no we mane, it's just me mane
Since 1997 been repping
can't get from Memphis to the A
The north and the south is on the ground
The under, underground, ground smoked out fulla green
Fuck what cha heard,
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