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j.r. writer – “you’re done” (tru dyke) lyrics

[intro: cam’ron]
aww man! flex called me up about 10 minutes to 7. told me he wanted to put a little beef thing together. that’s nothing man, we’ll do this in 10 minutues. i got my man ar with me. yall know him as jr but i call him ar cause the boy will air you out in 4 seconds b. ayo writer let’s go. funk flex

[jr writer]
writer!
let’s have a pep talk, never my checks short
i hop in the lex sport and pop up on west 4th
know my next thought? what you ever extort or export?
raised around them h0m-s in escorts
i’m a vet dog, you’ll never see me lyrically
i’ll wet dog and step off. you better do your history
i did my history. this kicko’s done
before c-ckafella n-gga he was jim jones son
what’s the big old front? like his swag ain’t confused
i remember he was doing bathrobes and shoes
this -ssh0l- is rude, my cashflow is huge
you suck, what the f-ck?! all your rap shows get booed
it’s murda!! them dogs’ll pop up with them burners
you worker. your boss is washed up like a surfer
the nerve of this server. i’ll hurt ya
your “major was a fake neptune track with a jamaican hook (this is the life)
you’s a waste of push. how could you offend r?
riding in a windstar, lying like you’ve been hard?
you’ve never been scarred, or rised heat. so why beef?
i ain’t mobb deep. them n-ggas 5 feet.
i’ll put you guys each in ditches yo, hit wit fo’, critical, jigga know
that’s why we did the ho (dig a hole)
you dig it ho, we squeeze rounds pop
you so f-ckin’ wack you make bleek sound hot
so ease down ock. you wouldn’t k!ll squat
you’re on the roc cause they had to fill amil’s spot
you gettin bills stop, why lie you b-tch? you’re not as rich
only time you get scratch is when you got an itch
i’m talkin dollars, chips. some you don’t see in fronter
so call this b-tch anonymous cuz you ain’t seeing numbers
get the picture you dirty little n-gga?
hov got you on the back burner like a trigger
who’s sicker, or sl!cker? i’ll rip ya with one line
one rhyme, dump mine, n-gga this is crunch time
come at the don i’m dumping them arms
your whole tape trash and it took you months to respond
this p-wn styling on who? i wild with a few
who would wanna here a whole f-cking album of you?
it’s true, and true, i will make you my lunch
you’ve been signed a while now and ain’t hit radio once
they ain’t playinf that junk, if you gave it to funk (flex)
just to get spends you gone have to pay every month chump
i ain’t forget your boss “jigga, jigga what?”
he’s down at the office getting fingers up his b-tt
one of his workers told me how he really gives it up
how he really is a sm-t and he feminine as f-ck
yup, mention us then i’m spraying on target
all true= life fans is just waiting on garbage
this ain’t jr hardest, you ain’t even roc
you roc la with the d-mn reggaton artists
ur mouth’s getting runned, i’m bout getting ones, your son
you ain’t coming out like ur gun
you’re done!

[outro: cam’ron]
leave him alone ar. i ain’t even know he they was talking about i just looked the fool up on the internet. he look just like jim jones i’m a call him lj little jim. and another thing. turn the beat off real quick. i seen the most amazing thing. jay-z in africa. a camel on a camel. i wanted to call the guinness book of world records. i never seen a camel on a camel. bet jay-z in africa a camel on a camel watch it (laughter)

- j r writer lyrics

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