JUVENILE lyrics - Juve The Great

Cock It

Original and similar lyrics
[Juvenile] Uh Huh, Uh Huh Mic check one, two it's Juvenile coming through Uh Uh c'mon, c'mon [Verse 1] Who the man if I ain't it nigga can't claim it I can take a small name and make it famous I reason with no one homie I got fa sho cliental I'm a XL out here in the streets or lyin in jail I'm quick tempored please limit ya words I will send you in a hurry down south with the splurge it's kind of hard to understand me cause I speak with a slur but my guns speak a language all the people done heard streets sense gon' keep me in it for a minute you fuckin with a general salute me lieutenant I'm not too particular with lies I look e'm in there eyes say a pray before you die this ain't about me this about somethin thats spoke you know runnin with a nigga while you cuttin his throat oh them loose lip bitches get hung from a rope you know bagged up and throwed off the side of a boat, oh! [Chorus - repeat 2X] Cock it, take berrata then pop it give me that out ya pocket cause the best can't stop it East coast whassup, Down south whassup West coast whassup, Mid West whassup [Verse 2] Keep on makin ya laws, I'm a keep breaking them I can move a package in any city I'm stationed in if ya son touchin my shit you better pray for him bust his head and catch me a flight to where the hatreds been I ain't the only solider they got alot of these all of these children make me know who dropped alot of seeds I smoke till my eyes shut stay strapped so if you think about sneakin you better wise up hit you with the traqualizer let it fill ya head paralyze you have ya screamin 'I can't feel my legs' regardless of what a nigga or a bitch done said the shell around ya get poked like eggs I'm from the M-A-G-N-O-L-I-A my bitches gonna listen to what the hell I say you niggas gonna respect it or get out my way or the coroner's gonna happen to ya all time sake [Chorus] [Verse 3] You old niggas on ya last limb move over let some niggas who really want it come cash in suppose to get killed for cock blockin in cells solider bet you can't get no chronic up in hell fresh off the porch where the stash spot I'm hungry tryna get the same respect that my Dad got got the chopper cut the wieght, nice in the stash box nigga be on paper so himmed up from the bad cops how the hoes be actin hopin for child support I need to snatch me a coat and endorse it with dope I ain't even gotta speak on it I put my G on it niggas gon' let us get that whenever we want it beef is beef whenever the shit occurs if it's real it's gon' resolve into metal for sure but hit the right one he ain't respectin my bad my only satisfaction will be poppin your ass [Chorus - till end]

Suave Dirt Dogs

Choclair
Umm, for all these wild niggas (umm, yeah) Some bullshitters, know what I'm saying (yeah) Straight runnin. wild (realize) doing their thang, yeah For all those Nino Brown niggas (yeah) John Gotti niggas, know what I'm saying (yeah) Niggas trying to run shit (trying to run the game) Don't know (Don't know) It's all a game... [Verse 1] Yo, it's like night life, ball fights, brothers getting sliced Lay niggas, up on the floor, for people acting hardcore (yeah) And others caught in the crossfire, and dying at age young They leave .em by their loved ones People wondering, Toronto Sunday saying, we acting like some savages (savages) People acting it, pulling triggers and they stabbing kids (stabbing kids) They pose as bad boys up in club scenes Keep the grill screwed, leaving blood stains on blue jeans Then Po-Po, rushes through the entrance, he hits the exits Hops into his act, wheels spinning on some next shit {*tires peel out*} Now we got our G-stripes, bragging rights Little kids with no direction, look at him right Cause he got my car to style, Medina robber style Yeah, he bad now, but remember, what comes around, goes around (shhhh) Who be blind to the future You need to understand You need to understand, my man (Yeah!!) Chorus: Peoples get themselves caught up, and then shot up Bucked to the head for all the shit they done brought up The situation, got them iller than an AIDS patient Wild niggas, who be acting like they free-pacing [Verse 2] Now, as time goes by He's looking out his window, see some people outside With dark clothes and dark shades And all around is pure clouds packing rain He calls his man Jermaine, and tells him that Shit's going down and meet him at his home, he packs a 4-pound (4-pound) He waits around, with the sweat dripping from his brow Where the law be now, nervousness has his head swinging side-to-side Checks the door, he's see his man up in the ride He's rolling outside, first looking all around The sniper fire from the roof, it makes him drop and hit the ground He makes a mad dash to the car door Tells his man to move, he slams the pedal on the car floor {*tires peel out*} Now bullet-proof windows, they be reflecting it Now he's thinking back up to the party, he's regretting it But he's deep in it, and there's nothing he can do, but to call his boo Who be at home, taking care of his one year old He says, situation's thick, there's niggas after me It ain't no stopping them, until they capping me (naw) Hold the fort down, I.ll be aight, I.ll give you a call in the morn She says there's two up on my floor, with one kicking down my door He calls his man Nick, to check the situation (situation) When he arrives all he sees is an assassination (assassination) And when they one step ahead, so now an ambush is in the waiting Understand, you need to understand, my man (You need to recognize and realize, boy!) Chorus: [Repeat 2 times] [Verse 3] Now there's vengeance on the mind, time for him to take back what's stolen He tells Jermaine to meet him at the docks At 5 o.clock, keep the glocks cocked I got the blueprints, to run up on these niggas (Word up dog!) So when the time comes for them to meet He sees the car, but finds Jermaine slumped in the driver seat (what to do) People cut themselves off of him, cause if they down they be shot too His mother's in the rage, face on the front page Now the man's after him, the clan's after him, mob's after him He's still at damage son, last thought's killing (uhhh) The only thought in his head, now to do is run Buys his ticket at the International pier son Not, knowing that there's man Standing behind .em with, 9-millimeters in hand (He turns around to his surprise) Feels the burning on the inside, cold on the outside And the people did the shooting, got away up with his life-time (Ah-yo) Chorus: [Repeat 3 times] (You fucking with your life boy) Yeah, (uh-uh) wild niggas (uh-uh, wild niggas) You fucking with your life boy (You fucking with your life boy) Uhhh, You fucking with your life boy Uhhh... Chorus: [Repeat 1 time]

Decisions Decisions

DJ Muggs "Soul Assassins"
Atlanta: Gateway to the South Verse 1: Big Gipp It's a stray man, living in these veins man Suckin on a piece of sugar pain, chucking chains Take the wind out thru We never wash away the pain, so let the stain soak Who's in the wave? I dids fingertips carry language computer, Ray had Dad removed Swimsuits with green bags I'm on the corner with my butt up, sellin you product Women puttin theyself in positions to get cut up Hook: Up out'cha guts, fear, up for what? Nothin but them Goodie Verse 2: T-Bu Osmosis, with that thang up under the pillow crush Caught in the crossfire between Yankees and 49ers Rivals, but the South remain calm Neutral but we see blood that make homeboys hate at each other's lives Over colours and thangs, that they can bring To the next plain, but the toots in blue, badges Who are the biggest gangs? In Babylon, dyin slowly but surely Malicious drivers with hairpin triggers On the loose like juice And white America couldn't stand it LAPD plannin incriminatin evidence Jurors under jag order But we talkin outside the courtrooms Shootin birds at the judges Fuck Teks and go and plug us out on racial slurs Destroyin documents or complaints from black workers Chorus: The battles no longer physical, it's from within You live to die and you die to live again But you can't win for losing, what sides are you choosin? Decisions, Decisions to make Decisions, Decisions to make Verse 3: Khujo, Cee-Lo Legalise the dope and make paper Think it's time to pull another caper outta my bag of tricks These niggas ain't recognisin how they usin us to get rich Niggas dyin and shit I putta, broke my back for the *?scress?* That's what I did when I was a kid Always had the thought of doin a bid In the back of my mind, a life of crime was the last resort, I knew that goin to court drama wasn't likely I nicked scrimis like a chemist Cookin up a pan like the Witch Doctor Stroll beside cha like a thousand volts Over the edge pf the Hope with the CIA sellin coke To make them bloat, float up the river Key Louie Liquor sipper as I strategise a plan to infiltrate the crooked new, what?, ways to live a life Who we got to fight? Kid, it bite, are you dyin tonight? Relentless realism regardless represents South West goes out, possess the manifest that's heaven sent What's said is meant to the fullest extent No nonsense because my conscience wouldn't be content But just a little wealth, a little fame But your mind-frame will keep you living the same And it's a shame that niggas would settle with the ghetto Huh, hoes have some clothes that ain't makin what you suppose Let your eyes close to what your contract shows and fine print, they gotta get back every cent you spent You content cuz, you do what everybody does The industry that change you from the person you was Knee-deep in the struggle Two part-time jobs to juggle Gotta lady and a c that you can't hardly feed Any day your life could end so you depend on the reciting and the writing when you got the spare time to spend To keep you stable, hopin one day you'll be able To be a commodity on somebody's record label Got your chance, twenty thousand dollar advance and a car and all of a sudden you a star at the bar ballin, callin the waiter to bring one of they finest wines Then you started snortin lines, your life defines the misconception of stayin down You can't be influenced by everybody you hang round You shoulda been more appreciative of the life that you were blessed to live A hundred percent is what you got to give Cos ain't no tellin, yo' bullshit start smellin And you wonder why your record ain't sellin no more, endin up with no dough and no respect back in the projects and building 23, right next door to me, heheheh Chorus Hook

Battle Of 2001

DJ Muggs "Muggs Presents the Soul Assassins, Chapter 1"
[Featuring Goodie Mob] Atlanta: Gateway to the South Verse 1: Big Gipp It's a stray man living in these veins man Suckin on a piece of sugar pain chucking chains Take the wind out thru We never wash away the pain so let the stain soak Who's in the wave? I dids fingertips carry language computer Ray had Dad removed Swimsuits with green bags I'm on the corner with my butt up sellin you product Women puttin theyself in positions to get cut up Hook: Up out'cha guts, fear, up for what? Nothin but them Goodie Verse 2: T-Bu Osmosis, with that thang up under the pillow crush Caught in the crossfire between Yankees and 49ers Rivals, but the South remain calm Neutral but we see blood that make homeboys hate at each other's lives Over colours and thangs, that they can bring To the next plain, but the toots in blue, badges Who are the biggest gangs? In Babylon, dyin slowly but surely Malicious drivers with hairpin triggers On the loose like juice And white America couldn't stand it LAPD plannin incriminatin evidence Jurors under jag order But we talkin outside the courtrooms Shootin birds at the judges Fuck Teks and go and plug us out on racial slurs Destroyin documents or complaints from black workers Chorus: The battles no longer physical, it's from within You live to die and you die to live again But you can't win for losing, what sides are you choosin? Decisions, Decisions to make Decisions, Decisions to make Verse 3: Khujo, Cee-Lo Legalise the dope and make paper Think it's time to pull another caper outta my bag of tricks These niggas ain't recognisin how they usin us to get rich Niggas dyin and shit I putta, broke my back for the *?scress?* That's what I did when I was a kid Always had the thought of doin a bid In the back of my mind, a life of crime was the last resort, I knew that goin to court drama wasn't likely I nicked scrimis like a chemist Cookin up a pan like the Witch Doctor Stroll beside cha like a thousand volts Over the edge pf the Hope with the CIA sellin coke To make them bloat, float up the river Key Louie Liquor sipper as I strategise a plan to infiltrate the crooked new, what?, ways to live a life Who we got to fight? Kid, it bite, are you dyin tonight? Relentless realism regardless represents South West goes out, possess the manifest that's heaven sent What's said is meant to the fullest extent No nonsense because my conscience wouldn't be content But just a little wealth, a little fame But your mind-frame will keep you living the same And it's a shame that niggas would settle with the ghetto Huh, hoes have some clothes that ain't makin what you suppose Let your eyes close to what your contract shows and fine print, they gotta get back every cent you spent You content cuz, you do what everybody does The industry that change you from the person you was Knee-deep in the struggle Two part-time jobs to juggle Gotta lady and a c that you can't hardly feed Any day your life could end so you depend on the reciting and the writing when you got the spare time to spend To keep you stable, hopin one day you'll be able To be a commodity on somebody's record label Got your chance, twenty thousand dollar advance and a car and all of a sudden you a star at the bar ballin, callin the waiter to bring one of they finest wines Then you started snortin lines, your life defines the misconception of stayin down You can't be influenced by everybody you hang round You shoulda been more appreciative of the life that you were blessed to live A hundred percent is what you got to give Cos ain't no tellin, yo' bullshit start smellin And you wonder why your record ain't sellin no more, endin up with no dough and no respect back in the projects and building 23, right next door to me, heheheh Chorus Hook

Decisions, Decisions

DJ Muggs "Muggs Presents the Soul Assassins, Chapter 1"
Atlanta: Gateway to the South Verse 1: Big Gipp It's a stray man, living in these veins man Suckin on a piece of sugar pain, chucking chains Take the wind out thru We never wash away the pain, so let the stain soak Who's in the wave? I dids fingertips carry language computer, Ray had Dad removed Swimsuits with green bags I'm on the corner with my butt up, sellin you product Women puttin theyself in positions to get cut up Hook: Up out'cha guts, fear, up for what? Nothin but them Goodie Verse 2: T-Bu Osmosis, with that thang up under the pillow crush Caught in the crossfire between Yankees and 49ers Rivals, but the South remain calm Neutral but we see blood that make homeboys hate at each other's lives Over colours and thangs, that they can bring To the next plain, but the toots in blue, badges Who are the biggest gangs? In Babylon, dyin slowly but surely Malicious drivers with hairpin triggers On the loose like juice And white America couldn't stand it LAPD plannin incriminatin evidence Jurors under jag order But we talkin outside the courtrooms Shootin birds at the judges Fuck Teks and go and plug us out on racial slurs Destroyin documents or complaints from black workers Chorus: The battles no longer physical, it's from within You live to die and you die to live again But you can't win for losing, what sides are you choosin? Decisions, Decisions to make Decisions, Decisions to make Verse 3: Khujo, Cee-Lo Legalise the dope and make paper Think it's time to pull another caper outta my bag of tricks These niggas ain't recognisin how they usin us to get rich Niggas dyin and shit I putta, broke my back for the *?scress?* That's what I did when I was a kid Always had the thought of doin a bid In the back of my mind, a life of crime was the last resort, I knew that goin to court drama wasn't likely I nicked scrimis like a chemist Cookin up a pan like the Witch Doctor Stroll beside cha like a thousand volts Over the edge pf the Hope with the CIA sellin coke To make them bloat, float up the river Key Louie Liquor sipper as I strategise a plan to infiltrate the crooked new, what?, ways to live a life Who we got to fight? Kid, it bite, are you dyin tonight? Relentless realism regardless represents South West goes out, possess the manifest that's heaven sent What's said is meant to the fullest extent No nonsense because my conscience wouldn't be content But just a little wealth, a little fame But your mind-frame will keep you living the same And it's a shame that niggas would settle with the ghetto Huh, hoes have some clothes that ain't makin what you suppose Let your eyes close to what your contract shows and fine print, they gotta get back every cent you spent You content cuz, you do what everybody does The industry that change you from the person you was Knee-deep in the struggle Two part-time jobs to juggle Gotta lady and a c that you can't hardly feed Any day your life could end so you depend on the reciting and the writing when you got the spare time to spend To keep you stable, hopin one day you'll be able To be a commodity on somebody's record label Got your chance, twenty thousand dollar advance and a car and all of a sudden you a star at the bar ballin, callin the waiter to bring one of they finest wines Then you started snortin lines, your life defines the misconception of stayin down You can't be influenced by everybody you hang round You shoulda been more appreciative of the life that you were blessed to live A hundred percent is what you got to give Cos ain't no tellin, yo' bullshit start smellin And you wonder why your record ain't sellin no more, endin up with no dough and no respect back in the projects and building 23, right next door to me, heheheh Chorus Hook

Marijuana Man

JOELL ORTIZ
Y'all know who I is Marijuana Man! Yaowa [Verse 1: Joell Ortiz] Ok, I got the best pot in town But before you get with me, boy I want you to shop around So when you come back this way You know you dealing with that piff I'm a king of the spliffs No ands, buts or ifs It's them magazine haze from down MIA I got 5 G's a P, don't worry what I pay Put your 20′s in a bag Slide your 50′s in a jar Made niggas could move hundreds If they hustled up to par I drive a nice car off the strength of that plant Just breaking up a bud'll have your fingers all damp I'm Ray? treated like dope And have my shit stamped Call it [?] everything I love all you need is one bud To fuck up your camp On the grind all the time Y'all be knowing my steez Environmentalists be hating how I'm moving them trees But I can't stop, that pot keep knots in my pocket Unless I get shot or knocked, y'all not gon knock it Who I'm is? [Hook: x2] Marijuana man, high as a Marley man 20 in my right, nice philly in my other hand I'm a hustle man, I'm just tryna double, man Stack a couple hundred grand Keep everybody puffing man [Verse 2: Joell Ortiz] I got it all colors What kind of smoke are you trying to do? Looking for something sweet and smooth? Right this way: I'll show you them blues The best part about this, go ahead and toss it on that scale That this only a.7, this bud is puffy as hell Want something a little stronger? I got something that'll hurt you Follow me over here – see that right there? Yeah, that's that purple The bud's a little tighter And I"m sure you're smelling fumes It tastes just like it smells and that high? It packs a peww, now this fella right here He's both fluffy and he's right His nickname is "Albino", he's a rhino and he's white I'd leave him in a jar so they could see him and get hyped Cause he's drenched in THC Looks like a tree with Christmas lights And last but not least: he's plain green But he can push! Grand-daddy of them all Look at his swoosh, they call his "Kush" Now it costs a little more – but my oh my will this one go And so there you have it bro Last thing left it get this dough Who I is? [Hook] [Verse 3: Joell Ortiz] You can dabble with the other stuff And made a lot of paper But a couple guys I knew got hit with numbers like the Raiders Real stand-up dudes, they ain't even mention a player So I switched hustles – cash ain't as fast But it's much safer I'm in and out of state Without even half of the risk A weed case is like a bracelet Little slap on the wrist But enough about getting locked Cause ain't nobody getting caught Everybody getting guaped The whole world smoking pot, baby! [Hook]

Was it funny? Share it with friends!