a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

jim jones - pour wax lyrics

(feat. h-ll rell)

[jim jones]
you’re reign on the top, short like leprechauns
i came through in drops, porches and heavy charms
i came from the block, the slums wit ex-con’s
and we aimin’ them glocks of course ready to bomb
now i done seen a custy’ cop four pies of the same gear
also seen a n-gg- cop four rides in the same year
this concrete jungle, no trees to swing from
this weed and gettin drunk and heaters gettin dumped
hit the highway n-gg- ki’s up in the trunk
back up in the city with some skeezas in the trunk
i aint a player but i do my dirt dog
drop top ‘cedes better move when it merk off
it got me swingin to the left lane
plus a n-gg- caughin ’cause the haze give me chest pain
yes motha f-cka the boys is back
with my vest and i’m tucked up with my boys in back

[chorus: jim jones]
you dont want it with them n-gg-z
while you n-gg-z steady b-tching my n-gg-z gettin’ richer
you mad ’cause we ballin’
bet you mad ’cause we scorin
if he get out of line put his punk -ss in a coffin
n-gg- we a ragime, byrdgang we the truth
keep a foriegn sedan or swirvin’ in the coupe
oakwood in the interior, swade on the roof
now shoot, {bang, bang} shoot {bang, bang}

[h-ll rell]
aw man h-ll rell, he on the same bullsh-t agiain
same black hoody{yup}, same fo’ fifth again
bithes stopped likin’ me but now they on my d-ck again
seen me in the ashton with my glistinin’
yea i’m bustin off the chrome
yea i’m ’bout to off your dome
kill the mother and the father, kids go to foster homes
yea i like to floss the chrome, n-gg- leave the boss alone
see my neck and my wrist, i’m rockin’ what it costs for homes
homie they dont call me ruger for nothing
back out on theese b-tch n-gg-z get that ruger to dumpin’
dont run up on me n-gg- you know i stay with it
g’d up from the beef and brock’s to the oakland a’s fitted
that’s the bottom to the top, it’s in the bottom of the pot
i got it white, i got it tan, it’s either you copin’ or you not
n-gg- jets is pullin’ off and you stuck in the current
dip, bg, f-ck what you heard

[chorus]

[jim jones]
we all strapped in the ride, i aint talkin’ like the elderly
yac’ed when we drive like a rollin f-ckin’ felony
trapped to survive, get the bucks, sell them ki’s
it’s hard to get by that’s why we puff h-ll’a’weed
but if this high dont come down
i feal the world 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 like what that dude like
spider four thirty with the blue’ish lights
got the coupe bright, still shoot dice
for my n-gg-z on the east side this is true life

[chorus]

- jim jones lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS