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JIM JONES lyrics

Going Crazy

Original and similar lyrics
Yo Game you hear all this shit Chuck man (Jim Jones) Theys the wrong terms (The Game) Another day another dollar man (Jim Jones) Dry my tears in this 40 ounce J (The Game) Yeah man I'm a crack this jack man (Jim Jones) Fuck it man walk me through Harlem down 105th deep or somethin (The Game) Shit man take me through Compton man right I'll see the block with the gz man (Jim Jones) Let's ride (The Game) Yeah so what we tryin to say is I'm a rep the East (Jim Jones) And I'm a rep the West (The Game) And we gonna do this shit together so you know what that is? (Jim Jones) Let's go! (The Game) [Verse 1: Jim Jones] Go alive through this ride feel like B.I.G. and Pac (ready to die) Go alive up in my ride through the city blocks (all eyes on me) Eve alive watch when I drive for the wicked cops (all day) Got the call the other night they hear my nigga shot (the killed J.B.!) They hear the sigh with the steady blicka That was my guy when he ride if he got any bigga (gz up homie) Got a payment in the blood in the heavy liquor That we threw up on the floor for so many niggas (R.I.P.) It's like my rage has a venomous flare Like my hood is in the enemy square Police like watch for the cops how they roll on my set We holdin glocks and know we a threat (EASTSIDE) We on them blocks when we roll through the jets We load the lock that's the code of my set (gz UP!) Takes more to fare o coin for gz through a tone You better carry on we breeze through my zone (we ain't sellin them blocks) Don't let the game and get called on excitement We movin cain and don't get caught on indictment (that be brick money) I smoke that weed to let my thoughts contemplate (too many choices) These mean streets and sidewalks we congregated (all this in the jungle) This is my choice of existance To rep the hood and be the voice of resistance (I'm so rebellious) Cause someone gotta stand for somethin For every nigga who had them dreams and get them grams they pumpin (I wasn't one of them) [Chorus: Jim Jones] Please Lord save him I'm a G going crazy Please Lord save him He's a G going crazy [Verse 2: The Game] Life ain't easy Wish I could go to Heaven Hop the Pearly Gates just to talk to Eazy But my son need me Homie The Game need me Bein a nigga with a attitude ain't easy Go see the doctor get the operation Black wallstreet black cloud over the whole nation We lost legends that's 60 reasons separation Inhale the chronic smoke that's my meditation We on two I'm on the bus With more than an o Smoke with me is more than I want you to know It's 28 grams in the o But you can bring back two if you cook it slow That's black magic One shot one life one son one automatic Yeah nigga love is love I go slug for slug Cause death comes and smiles and hugs so [Chorus: The Game] Please Lord save us I'm a G going crazy Please Lord save us I'm a G going crazy [Verse 3: Jim Jones & The Game] What's your name gangsta? Chuck Taylor your neighborhood gangbanger A.k.a. 45 stainless What's your name gangsta? Compton status 9 trey gangsta Eastsida rida And what you claim gangsta? Westside Compton blvd And I tie my rag in a knot with Harlem Wuss yo name gangsta? East and the West connect so then I breeze through Compton no problem The Byrd Gang's gonna getcha If them gangbangas get to you first The coroners takin pictures nigga You know the G code Cock and squeeze Let that 38 revolver spin like gold deeps (yeah) I know some OGz they remember me Breezin through ridin o 50 at unknown speed I do this for all the gangs in the towers We no longer keep this thang in the silence (but) (shit) [Outro: Jim Jones & The Game] Please Lord save us I'm a G going crazy Shit man What this right here is history man What couldn't be done in the past, is now done in the present We gonna let yo head in the future Jim Jones Compton status Gz up Shout to my nigga Game Chuck Taylor Matter a fact you got something to say before I get out of here Yeah I'm in Harlem man straight the fuck out of Compton You know how we do it I'm good here I'm good in Compton Come and see me nigga We do it right Black wallstreet Byrd Gang bitch BLAH!

Def Wish

Compton's Most Wanted "Straight Checkn'em"
Geah. The MC Eiht's in the mutherfuckin house y'knowutumsayin? The Compton maniac, here to break your ass something off real proper, y'knowutumsayin? Damn! Suckers, I go for broke so dont choke on the smoke. Cause if I hit the chronic, Eiht starts the rap bionic. So enough with that punk shit. With your fucked up lyrics you can't shoot the gift like it should be shot. Gots no hearts, punk ass marks, dont start you'll get got. And at the end of the trail is whats left. Is a sucker mutherfucker who done simped to death. So if ya got static go and gather up your army. you'll be a short ass punk trying to harm me. I bet you sorry MC's never seen this. A sucker punk hung up by his penis. So watch out for a sucker on the gank cause while Compton's Lynchin, I'm taking money to the bank. And its the MC Eiht on your shit list. Commence to killing you off you gots your def wish. [I'll make you famous...] [Now when I go for my gun...you can start shooting] Phase 2, Its the brother who be taxing. Running over punks like my brother Bo Jackson. As your card's on freeze frame your chicken. It's the Eiht double M and I'll keep sticking. All that pay back shit is in effect. Cause I'm the type a brother who'll blast your ass, check. So if your biting my lyrics, then fool you'll pay. As you commence to say em you'll get tooth decay. So give up to the Compton psycho, Biting me Quik will mean you get the duck sick quick. Not a funny man, but still I gives surprises. Lyrics are deadly plagues, the death toll rises. So now your shit outta luck with your rhyme scheme. And now I hunt your punk ass in your bad dreams. Another victory on my list. One more punk ass fool with a def wish. Chorus Now say your prayers, because its difficult to get with this. I'll haunt your studio, become your ghost lyricist. No mistakes I make, so don't fake. Yous as sorry as fuck, so jump your ass out a cake. Dont try to bargain with the maniac mistro. On the stage I'm in a rage with a gangsta show. The Capital E, The Capital I, the Capital H, The Capital T, down MC. Mike T is the partner down with me. Suckers got static, here goes the G-A-T. So take a step up and play for the rhythm. From Compton boy, and this is what I give em. A blast from the gat just for talking that junk. Feel like handling the business might smoke the punk. I run the nine one, fool, so get hip to my ways. And don't be no hero like in the western days. At sundown, you'll press your luck and try to shoot me. Grab your davey Crocket, I'll grab my gangsta Uzi. And after all that, you'll still be R.I.P. If you fuck with me...Fool theres your def wish. Geah, y'knowutumsayin? MC Eiht stepping to the mutherfuckin 91 My DJ mike T's in the mutherfuckin house. Down with the DJ Bolo, and Unknown. Geeeaaah.

You Don't Hear Me Doe

SCARFACE "The World Is Yours"
(feat. DMG) [DMG] Call me psychotive but I'm bad, nigga yo! And I'ma do ya bad, black And when I come, I'm bustin up niggas to hear me, black Ya should of never let a nigga see if there was niggas and bitches and bitches and niggas that hated me Huh, I waited for my date to come-of-age and now I'm of-age I can't escape the fuckin front page So I guess that nigga D is up to hit again I kicks the funky shit and coke, and stupid like I'm Gilligan I'm P, supposed to hit a lick for a jack The only thing I gained is the pain of niggas comin back Nigga lookin for they shit, aggravated and pissed Niggas they can't fuck with my clique I'm here to break em off for chunk A D-E-A-T-H-L-Y, a motherfuckin punk And I be rollin with the brass Don't answer with the ziggers in your hood, he break your neck to roll a pass, nigga Don't even stop to say 'Whattup' cos I bust for the fuck And pay some quick to light a motherfucker up Next time you stop me on your block, I hope you leave the place or be the next to meet the Lord face-to-face Nigga, I ain't the one to take no bullshit Cos see a nigga like the D is game to empty out the full clip So when I come for ya, act like ya know Sittin motherfuckin smooth to the curb but you don't hear do' [Chorus:] I'ma bring ya to ya asshole (uh) Do it like the G-to-O (yeah) Bustin on that ass but still I see that you don't hear me do' (But you don't hear me do') Bring ya to ya asshole (uh) Do it like the G-to-O (yeah) Bustin on that ass but still I see that you don't hear me do' [DMG] It's time to fuck em up, here it comes, BLAST, nigga! Thump to your chest and they comin out your ass, nigga I grew apart, livin my life as a criminal Niggas G to kill but still I see that you don't hear me do' So I'ma serve it to ya fat, hit the deck, mate Hit the deck mate, call me Flipper when I checkmate D-um divertin nine, Tre-9, full Glock, Glock My Glock makin sounds and it don't stop So nigga pass the swisha quick and I'ma blaze til the motherfucker burn me off my fingertips Cos, see a nigga gotta saty high I try to smoke til I can't smoke and then I won't smoke But still I got my fingers on my shit and click, click, click, ya die, die, die, ya dead, bitch! You tried to test the wrong nigga, be a tested Straight from St.Paul but clockin G's down in Texas Some think I'm talk cos I play it cool but I ain't the average motherfucker, I do the shit that niggas won't do Huh, like pistol whip a woodie for his bank Then after that I gate and grab his bitch and do the same thang And I will pain up the asshole Collectin grips on my drips as I stroll but you don't hear me do' [Chorus] [DMG] Ain't no mistakin what I'm bringin, you motherfuckers still ain't had enough So I'ma continue to break you off for proper ass chunk May it be 9, may it be a gauge, may it be a shank Any way you come I'm in your motherfuckin shit, mate! Huh, a nigga bustin caps, smokin fires quick to bring it to your ass and keep on goin til your ass die And it ain't no runnin down dem backstreets cos I got slugs to catch em with Carl Lewis on the track meet Huh, and still you wanna test a nigga so Audi 5, nigga, hate to see ya go but you don't hear me do' [Chorus] Yeah, check it!

Higher

TWISTA "Runnin' Off At Da Mouth"
[Intro: Twista + (Ludacris)] Yeah, you know it's about to go down right? (Yeeah!) Got to let them know who is this? (Ludacris!) And who else nigga? (Twista, wooo, ahhh!) Uh, uh (check it out) [Verse 1: Ludacris] Sometimes I think that I got to see a little bit of brighter days Cause I confine myself to a city near you in a solid cage And you could look to the left or the right but I'm trapped on center stage And I could rap to the beat, but I don't know how to change my ways I still hear a fool and I track them, distract them, and whack them Jack a nigga for the day to days and I yak them, attack them, and sack them Get a weapon and I crack his brain cause I'm a hustler, baller, pro And it wouldn't be right for me to be around busters, and crawlers, and hoes But I'm a pimp at night, so talk shit and I'm a lift them up off of they toes With a street sweeper regulating quarters, and ki's, and o's In a two-seater, Ludacris and Twista with bags of dro Smoking, choking, get them open, croaking It's so potent - I'm hoping to keep on floating Soaking wet and you can bet, people I'm high I'm seeing lions, and tigers and bears - oh my! And I can't hide it or keep it hidden, good riddance I'm felling good I'm weapon-concealing, stealing my neighborhood Would, could, and should break a nigga off They'll see you later, go to the doctor, hold my balls and (cough) You caused some vapors and I caught the throne, brain blown, honey I'm home Give me the microphone, and fools is like, 'leave me alone!' [Chorus: Twista] Throw it up if you get high, get blow, get drunk If you want what I'm on, come on and kick it Let's ride, smoke dro, beat the trunk All the bad ass bitches that want to party Just shake it, great players get pumped Me and my thugs, and hustlers in the party Get money fuck hoes, get crunk [Verse 2: Twista] (Look out!) I put a little bit of hash on some motherfucking purple haze I feel it all over my body, adrenaline with the Bacardi Got me up and then rippng shit in a rage In the netti cofetti with a belly, Gucci Timberland stepping on the petal up in the Cadillac truck Want to get me for the wood Better get the whole motherfucking hood to come and give you some back up We can get into it and if you want to do it I'm leaking the fluids out of the bodies that want to come at this If they all get some blood for fucking with thugs that I bury My adversaries better not want none of Twis' Represent for my city, anybody that different with me Got to get him for thinking it's a game And whether you from my city or not, talk shit I'ma kill him especially if he say my name I've been up on him - I handle my business And I'm a stick him up for the scrilla, from K-Tilla, smoking on a fat piller Murder haters that don't feel a Niggaz claiming they want to bring it, but really don't be killers Balling out so hard the size of my rims grow to a hellafied sight-scene When the dough become no bigger, I'm going to drop that 2003 on 19' [Chorus: Twista] [Verse 3: Twista] We balling out of control, I floss on, play on, pimp on A speed deamon, pedal to the metal when I'm in the zone Hang on cause here I'm gone In the motherfucking wind when I'm sippin on Henn' I got paper, you owe something And I done came a long way from letting me hold something, to roll something Find a body, then fill him up with some adrenaline And then kill him and send him to the cemetery With a flow for the whole world like a poet, Check icy cold, your Pop's so hungry, he mends a berry Shit, and when it come to shipping good Who that?, who that?, I got the sack open And the herb got the flow so strong Hot them on crack, the track is for back-to-back smoking Never come up with it unwise, and he nigga you ain't untouchable when I spark the heat Coming at you like sharks to meat the blood is softly, I can tell when a mark is hard as we Come fully loaded cause I'm hard to beat always screaming where a beat and the dro at? You know we love that cut up In the back of the club with purple in the back crying Twis' and Ludacris get fucked up [Chorus: Twista] [Outro: Twista + (Wildstyle)] Pass me the.. Let me smoke my.. (Yeeah, this a Wildstyle production Twista and Ludacris collabo, get it, get it get it, uh, yeeah)

On, Eve, The L.O.X.---Ryde Or Die

DMX "Flesh Of My Flesh, Blood Of My Blood"
[Sheek] Yo if gon' sleep on somethin, might as well be a bed And if you gon' crack a nigga, might as well be a head Cause if you targettin the L.O.X. You might as as well target a box That you gon' sleep in for years, all covered wit rocks Cause I think not, I pop shots, I double what y'all got Ya hotshots aint got blocks, ya punta muchacha From the days in school, now a motherfucker rule And I could drop my chain in court, yeah, keeps ya cool That's how ice be, I'm priceless, the iciest And I dont gotta wear fatigues to blow out your chest My bullets thump when I'm laced in some fly shit, punk The baby nine be on the daily, aint no poppin a trunk But if I pop the trunk, its to hand you a rag So you can wipe down the windows on the side of my Jag Must I brag? My shit paid for, yours tagged And every bitch you grabbed, Sheek bend em back [Jadakiss] Ayo I hope you aint tongue-kissin your spouse Cause I be fuckin her in the mouth Type of nigga buck at your house Too slick, means she be suckin my dick And before you know it, I'ma have her stuffin my bricks Jada, if I kiss you now, you'll die later I been nice since niggaz was watchin movies on Beta Ready to clap, everybody givin me gats Cause believe it or not, we be the ones settin the traps You listen to y'all shit, then listen to our shit Ain't nuttin y'all faggots could do but gossip That's the reason now y'all niggaz ain't got shit Cause everytime I turn around y'all on the L.O.X. dick Niggaz thats narrow, I just smack em wit the barrel Give it to em at the light, like Kane's cousin Harold Chorus: repeat 4X The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders [Styles] Fuck you and your son, y'all low wit the scum Show me the money, I'll show you a gun, motherfucker SP'll spin the corner while you parle' with dun I clap you, I clap him, and thats rule number one Suckin my dick, and I dont give a fuck what you spit Who you are, where you from, and who the fuck you can get Cause I sell records, plus I got a jail record Y'all niggaz ain't sayin shit until y'all bare weapons And even when you dead, you can still fuckin get it A nigga that'll smack ya, fuck around and clap ya Styles P., your favorite rapper's favorite rapper [Eve] Aint no surprise niggaz, only fuck wit recognized niggaz Babygirl want the world, gave ya pies niggaz No tops, take em in all shape and size niggaz No lie, prefer them ready do or die niggaz What? What you want? cutey starin at me like Damn, where you from? You be comin at me like Can I get some? Lick your lips for this brown sugar Suck mine like a thumb, if you want, til I come, uh -Chorus- [Drag-On] I be the D-R, A-G, dash O-N, slash often Comma, burnin niggas often They call me Drag-On, I'm hot scorchin Keep the block roastin Light a dutch wit the flames comin, toastin In my eyes you could see what summer's holdin Realizin, every guy I'll fry or dead rowdy I burn to a degree of 130, and my gun dirty Cause it got one bury, so you better run, hurry Or catch one early You wrong, tryin to touch me, what type of shit you on? You better through your boots on and your unflammable suits on Cause I'm comin through wit a Yukon Black tinted wit gats in it Catch you while you smokin, send your casket, throw the sack in it But only half of it, cause y'all like half-ass dude And we are one whole, and y'all niggaz is one slash two My gun blast you, tryna out the flames, what're you, firemen? You'll catch a hell of a backdraft cause my fire retirin, aight then [DMX] Its my, survival instinct that keeps my head above the water Everyday I show another how a I love a slaughter Flood your daughter, full of more holes than spurges Taxin businessmen for stocks over lunches Wit these, I shoot the breeze, and extort Enough keys from the Cuban, to build a fuckin fort Caught up in somethin that I cant control Tryna get a hold of a bankroll, let's role Catch bodies like a cold, and I stay slick so face it Make me chase it, I take your life and erase it Waste it, in the fuckin streets cause it ain't worth shit The undertaker take your ass under the earth quick, I Love money, but the scrambles hot So i snatch up my man and the gamblin spot Twenty grand is got, one niggaz shot, one nigga less What used to be his chest is now a mess under his fuckin vest

Can't Nobody Hold Me Down (Original Club Mix)

PUFF DADDY "Forever"
(feat. Mase) [Puff] Ahe he [Mase] Yo turn me up in the headphones [Puff] Like that [Mase] Yeah [Puff] Bad Boy... we ain't gon' stop [Verse One: Mase] Now with Sean on the hot track, melt like it's hot wax Put it out, all the stores, bet you could shop that (that's right) Leave a nigga with a hot hat, fronting like Bad Boy ain't got tracks (nigga stop that) There's no guy slicker than this young fly nigga Nickel-nine nigga, floss you die quicker (uh-huh) This fed time outta town pie flipper Turn Cristal into a Crooked I sipper Everbody want to be fast, see the cash Fuck around they weak staff, get a heat rash Anything in Bad Boy way we smash (we smash) Hundred G stash, push a bulletproof E-Class (ehehe) I'm through with bein a player and a baller Just want me one bad bitch so I can spoil her Mase wanna be the one you respect, even when you're vexed Rock Versace silks over spilled brunette Got green never seen so you suck my jewels Clutch my uz', anything I touch I bruise Puff make his own laws, nigga fuck your rules (that's right) Goodfellas, you know you can't touch us dudes [Chorus: Puff, Mase] [Puff] Don't push us, cause we're close to the, edge [Puff] We're tryin, not to lose our heads, a-hah hah hah hah [Mase] I get the feelin sometime that make me wonder Why you wanna take us under [Puff] Why you wanna take us under [repeat 2X] [Mase] Can't nobody take my pride [Puff] Uh uh, uh uh [Mase] Can't nobody hold me down... ohh no I got to keep on movin [Verse Two: Mase] Broken glass everywhere [glass shatters] if it ain't about the money, Puff, I just don't care (that's right) I'm that Goodfella fly guy, sometimes wiseguys Spend time in H-A-W-A-I-I (Mase can you please stop smoking lah lah) Puff why try I'm a thug, I'ma die high I be out in Jersey, puffin Hershey Brothers ain't worthy to rock my derby Though I'm never drugged, I'm the venom in the club, G Though I know the thug be wantin to slug me (uh-huh) Could it be I move as smoove as Bugsy (yeah) Or be at the bar with too much bubbly (c'mon) Yo I think it must be the girls want to lust me Or is it simply the girls just love me Brothers wanna: rock the Rolls, rock my clothes Rock my ice, pull out Glocks, stop my life (uhh) I'm like, 'Damn, how these niggaz got they trust Used to be my man, how you gonna plot on my wife' Do you think you snake me, cause they hate me Or he got his Ph.D; Player Hater's Degree (Ahaha!) [Chorus] [Verse Three: Mase] Quit that! (uh-huh) You a big cat (yeah) Where your chicks at (yeah) Where your whips at (where dey at) Wherever you get stacks, I'ma fix that Everything that's big dreams, I did that (that's right) Don't knock me cause you're boring I'm record sales soaring (*whistling*) straight touring Simply a lot of men be wantin to hear me cause their words just don't offend me (uh-uh, uh-uh) We spend cheese, in the West Indies Then come home to plenty cream Bentleys (ahehe) You name it, I could claim it Young, black, and famous, with money hanging out the anus And when you need a hit, who you go and get (who) Bet against us Not a sure bet We make hits that'll rearrange your whole set (that's right) and got a Benz that I ain't even drove yet [Chorus] [Mase] Can't nobody take my pride [Puff] Uh-uh, uh-uh [Mase] Can't nobody hold me down... ohh no [Puff] I got to keep on movin (keep it movin) [repeat to fade]

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