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jim jones featuring hell rell - pour wax [explicit] lyrics

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yeah, you pour wax on the table, uh huh, and you set it on fire
uh, yeah, you know
this that dope boy sh-t, n-gg-
ya smell me, f-ck wit ya

your reign on the top, short like leprechauns
i came through in drops, porches and heavy charms
and i came from the block, was flawless with ex-cons
and we aimin’ them glocks, of course, ready to bomb

now i done seen a custy cop four pies of the same gear
i also seen a n-gg- cop four rides in the same year
the concrete jungle, no trees to swing from
this weed and gettin’ drunk and heaters gettin’ dumped

or hit the highway, n-gg-, key’s up in the trunk
back up in the city with some skeezers in the trunk
i ain’t a player but i do my dirt, dawg
drop top ‘cedes better move when it murk off

i got it swayin’ to the left lane
plus a n-gg- coughin’ ’cause the haze give me chest pain
yes, mothaf-cka, the boys are back with my vest
and i’m tucked up with my boys in back, f-cka

you don’t want it with them n-gg-s
while you haters steady b-tchin’, my n-gg-s gettin’ richer
bet you’re mad ’cause we ballin’, bet you’re mad ’cause we scorin’
if he get outta line, put his punk -ss in the coffin

n-gg-, we the regime, byrdgang, we the truth
even four in sedan, i’m swervin’ in the coupe
oak wood in interior, suede on the roof
now shoot back, now shoot back

ah man, h-ll rell, he on the same bullsh-t again
same black hoodie, ya same fo’ fifth again
b-tches stop likin’ me but now they on my d-ck again
see me in that aston with my chain glistenin’

yeah, i’m bustin’ off the chrome, yeah, i’m ’bout to off your dome
kill a mother and a father, kids go to foster homes
yeah, i like to floss the chrome, n-gg-, leave the boss alone
see my neck and my wrist, i’m rockin’ with a cost for homes

homie, they don’t call me ruger for nothin’
back out on these b-tch n-gg-s, get that ruger to dumpin’
so don’t run up on me, n-gg-, you know i stay with it
g’d up from my beef and brocks, to the oakland a’s, fitted

that’s the bottom to the top, you seen the bottom of the pot
i got it white, i got it tan, it’s either you coppin’ or you not
n-gg-, jets is pullin’ off and you stuck on the curb
d i p, b g, f-ck what you heard

you don’t want it with them n-gg-s
while you haters steady b-tchin’, my n-gg-s gettin’ richer
bet you’re mad ’cause we ballin’, bet you’re mad ’cause we scorin’
if he get outta line, put his punk -ss in the coffin

n-gg-, we the regime, byrdgang, we the truth
even four in sedan, i’m swervin’ in the coupe
oak wood in interior, suede on the roof
now shoot back, now shoot back

we all strapped in the ride, i ain’t talkin’ like the elderly
yak when we drive, like we rollin’ f-ckin’ felony
trap to survive, get the buck, sellin’ keys, it’s hard to get by
that’s why we puff h-lla weed

but if this high don’t come down
i feel the walls spinnin’ like the sky gon’ come down
i need air, top of the ride, gon’ come down
and i swear i stay fly when i jump out

jewled up in ice, that bent that dude like
spyder 430 with the bluish lights
got the coupe, bright, but we still shoot dice
for my n-gg-s on the eastside, this is true life

you don’t want it with them n-gg-s
while you haters steady b-tchin’, my n-gg-s gettin’ richer
bet you’re mad ’cause we ballin’, bet you’re mad ’cause we scorin’
if he get outta line, put his punk -ss in the coffin

n-gg-, we the regime, byrdgang, we the truth
even four in sedan, i’m swervin’ in the coupe
oak wood in interior, suede on the roof
now shoot back, now shoot back



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