|
5:24 | ||||
from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007)
[Juelz Santana]
Yo who that [Ja] Me,it's Ja [Juelz Santana] Ja, Come in man What up Ja, what's poppin [Ja] What up Uncle Ju Ju You know Im five years old now right [Juelz Santana] Yeah I know man you gettin big tell me about it what's good [Ja] It's crazy man, you know my teacher had the nerve to ask me for your autograph [Juelz Santana] What, she asked for my autograph in the class [Ja] I had to tell her man im here to learn this aint the time or the place for that [Juelz Santana] you crazy man say word [Ja] word [Juelz Santana] you a trip lil nigga you know that, what you tell her after that [Ja] I said a dipset bitch [Juelz Santana] a a a, come on man you cant be doin it like that at five man, you got to get another decade with you at least [Ja] you know that you the only thing they talk about in my school [Juelz Santana] word [Ja] not cause you that nigga [Juelz Santana] why [Ja] but bacause im that nigga Click to learn more... CLICK ABOVE TO VISIT OUR SPONSORS you all i talk about [Juelz Santana] that's what's up that's what's up [Ja] some of the kids can hardly talk [Juelz Santana] yeah word [Ja] there fore you gotta make it happen know what im talkin bout [Juelz Santana] yeah yeah i know what you talkin about nigga i know [Ja] word uncle Ju Ju [Juelz Santana] yo man come on man you gotta stop with that uncle Ju Ju shit man know what i mean [Ja] that's what i call you, that's what ima keep callin you and let everybody else call you Juelz aight [Juelz Santana] aight [Ja] other than that I just wanna tell you I love you [Juelz Santana] aww i love you too man [Ja] wo wo wo, dont be gettin all mushy on me man, it's time to do it big, now lets go [Juelz Santana rapping] Now that I've got your attention [Repeat x5] Im what the games been missing What you about to witness is something that you haven't been witness'in Im what the games been missing |
|||||
|
5:03 | ||||
from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007)
<i>[Jim Jones]</i>
Free bail posters, tail lights on the roadster (Ferraris) Live life vulgar, the FBI posters (fuck the feds) The fast cars pack guns no holsters (fully loaded) We act dumb don't approach us (watch yourself) We hit the spot & stand on club sofas (ballin) So get the club owners (where he at) Cause we the boss type knicks game court side Big chain sporty ride G4 the lord of skies (flyin) And courts in session so you all could rise (stand up) Then pay homage to the board that lies So many niggaz on my corner died A marijuana how I mourn you guys (I mourn you) And nevermind that My cash better find that (bring my cash) We do the mask work Kick doors cash search (I know you here me) Now where the paper at, man where the yayo at (it get ugly) You make me wait the gat where your baby layin at (fuck your kid) Cause it's a cold world, (Yup) after world Emblem on the car it's no horn on the Capricorn <i>[Chorus: Max B]</i> Everybody talkin bout this byrd gang money & this shit is gettin funny to meeee Jump nigga think you a frog and I'ma hit you with one in your knee We switch up the cars, we switch up the broads Got the bitches sayin oh my darling We fucks with the stars, it's us against y'all Bucks at the bar we oh so Harlem <i>[Jim Jones]</i> A desperado, (Jones) rich like I struck the lotto (ballin) Trained to fight like Cus D'Amato I paint the night in them custom models (galotti's) Racin in the street duckin potholes (speedin) Who gives a fuck is the motto (fuck em) The new sneakers, blackberry's new beepers (text mail) And no tops on the 2 seaters (no tops) It's summertime give me Coupe fever (I'm hot) It's four inches for my shoe divas (Chris) You gon get it cause my crew G'd up We take chances, (yup) flip label advances (get it) 3 day stays at atlantis (ballin) Make way for the gangsters (byrd gang) A 1000 deaths to the cowards (fuck em) You let him die no flowers (fuck 'em twice) I use to drive 4 hours, (right) Switch with my man had a supply worth of powder (I gotta get it) You chumps want the power But when it rain man you can't duck the showers (Nope) It's Byrd gang and you don't wanna fuck with ours (let's do it) <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Jim Jones]</i> I got no manners, (kiss ass) ignorant with choppy grammar (ebonics) Where we livin at the cops can't stand us (fuck squally) And belligerent & packin hammers (loaded) And my constituents a act bananas (monkey business) Cause they get hungry from gorilla talk (you here me) I'm talkin beef not a bit of pork (no pork) If you a soldier go get your boss (where he at) We need to sit & talk (2:12 with him) before it go further Mo money mo murder ?? And we will pop at you And whoever you got with you (blatttt) My muslim niggaz too hard (hustle hard) Cop jewels new cars (stafalah) Take guns to jumar Tryna avoid a new charge (lotti)?? Now I salaam to that & drop a bomb to that (stafalah) It's war in these streets no sleep we insomniacs (no sleep nigga) You out your weight class, we'll eat you like Drake fast (eat you up) The credits all good motherfucker but I'm straight cash (Ballin) And I'm oh so Harlem 15th bang bang you don't want no problems (Eastside) |
|||||
|
4:17 | ||||
from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007) | |||||
|
4:57 | ||||
from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007)
<i>[Max B]</i>
Byrd Gang club banger Tryna holla at ya shorty One focus, one focus only I'm tryna hit that thang! Let's go <i>[Max B]</i> WE MAKE HITS IN THE STUDIO NIGHTLY, WE OUT TRYNA GET THIS MONEYYYYYYYYYYYY (Tryna Get it) WE TAKE TRIPS IN THE WINTER IN JET PLANES, IN THE CLIMATES WHERE IT'S SUNNYYYYYYY (MIA) WE GOT MAMI ON THE DANCE FLOOR GRINDIN TO THE BEAT, TIPSY OFF THE BUBBLYYYYYYY (BUBBLY) BUT AT THE END OF THE DAY, YOUR FRIEND IN THE PLAY....I'M TRYNA PIN THE TAIL ON THE DONKEYYYY! <i>[Verse 1: Jim Jones]</i> It goes Yes Yes Y'all-ing (b-boy boys), fresh to death balling (BALLLLLINNNN!)... you can play hard under pressure, I'm scoring (swish!) They playing tight D (uh huh), play the paint like a G (boxed out)... and some say they gangsta's but they ain't like me (not at all!) I came from an environment (uh huh), 'caine I was frying it (bricks)... then hit the dealer, see the Range I was buying it (it's nothing!) We don't test drive (uh huh), buy the whole whip like you should (fuck a lease!)... cheffin' up pies, a whole brick like you should Then take the proceeds, waste about 4 G's (balling)... buy bottles in the club, tryna get the older skeez (gettin twisted!) I'm tryna get the dame to breeze.... but she putting up a fight like Laila Ali (and what's ya name nigga?!) I told the lady I be... doing the turnpike, eighty in a fly V (WHAT ELSE?!) Middle name "forty on the wrist" last name "you can't afford me bitch!" get a camcorder bitch! (YEAH!) <i>[HOOK]</i> <i>[Verse 2: Juelz Santana]</i> Case is a Perryay Rose (yep!) look like Picasso painted on the bottle (haha) We throwing money we looking like Lotto (you see it) I could cover chicks with cheese like nacho's Fly out the cold (cold), land in the heat (where?) New York to Miami Beach (yeah) Bitch I live the life of a hood-star rock-star without the gui-tar got em all rubbing they push-bra (AWWWWW) Got em all shaking they tush like I'mma give em a taste of the good life (nope!) But I'll give em a taste of the good liquor a taste of that good bud, next thing you know she be tasteing of my good UHHHHHHHHHH! I get money, be quiet....you talking to the Jolly Green Giant I see it, I like it, I buy it baby I'm flyer than a pilot flying at his highest, climate <i>[HOOK]</i> <i>[Verse 3: Cam'ron]</i> WHERE MY HOOOMIIIIIIIES? UP TO NO GOOD WHERE MY HOOOMIIIIIIIES? YEP, I'M SO HOOD Uh...What up pimpin pimpin? (what up pimpin!) I'm exec already (fuck that!) See my hoes are like my plates...temporary (out of here) I ignore ya, beat it (beat it), move more strategic (strategic) The marble's mad yep, the floors are heated (in other words) Cam half pound a quarter key it (key it) better ask 'round soon they'll need a Mac round, enjoy the scenic In the ninety's Z3's, BB's now in the crib TV's watch TV (flat screens watch flat screens) Killa killa more killing and then the kitty purs (meeeeow)... fuck furs, his and hers, Bentley Spurs (that's a fact) Gun talk real talk speak Mac to Mac (mac), we like the Pistons, Bulls... you know back to back (back to back CHAMPS!) Maesarati's back to back come ride with me on 1100 not the bike....two 550's! KILLA! <i>[HOOK]</i> |
|||||
|
3:27 | ||||
from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007)
They got us fuckin' up a storm, kush up till the morn
Breezin' from the telly puffin marijuana White T and my pelly thuggin' like la Fonz Made it rain on them bitches a bucket full of ones We got them gold diggers, cold bitches That wanna party off patron liquor, car hoppers the hard stoppers Catch 'em at the party call 'em bar hoppers We live up in the sky you call 'em star watchers They chase dope boys trap stars with fast cars And executives rap stars with black cars So we could swipe it charge it to the game Trips to M.I.A. Murcielago in the lane She's got a thing for slippin' clique and goin' clubbin' at nights Ain't nothin' like the love of my life She likes the finer things and fuck with niggaz whose money is right Ain't nothin' like the love of my life She love the dick suck it till it cum She say I'm the best fuck of her life She give a nigga the energy he need Whenever he feels nothin' is right Now we in M.I. party till the noon Hammers in the ride Ferrari's go zoom All types of incidentals charges on my room From last night buggin', we mobbin' with the goons We hit the town hard, fuckin' with the ladies Bottles of viva clique, puffin' on the hazy It's all deja vu seen it all before Got her in my drop heater on the floor So I sped off from the spot, gettin' heady rock Got her in the telly she wouldn't let a nigga pop And when I woke all I seen was a note Nigga follow the trail and meet me in A T L She's got a thing for slippin' clique and goin' clubbin' at nights Ain't nothin' like the love of my life She likes the finer things and fuck with niggaz whose money is right Ain't nothin' like the love of my life She love the dick suck it till it cum She say I'm the best fuck of her life She give a nigga the energy he need Whenever he feels nothin' is right Now we pull up in the a shoppin' in Lenox mall Gotta get fly squad ready to ball We thinkin' 112 or maybe even visions Drinks at the bar like baby what you sippin' Then she told me magic city fat asses and they pretty They got me blowin' thousands throwin' stacks by the fifty Got some bitches out of strokers gotta get focus I'm tryin' to play my cards like a game of strip poker Flight up in the mornin' gotta get up on her When I leave you can tell ya friends about my performance And all the time M.O.B. on my mind The weekend was nice baby but I'm back to N.Y. She's got a thing for slippin' clique and goin' clubbin' at nights Ain't nothin' like the love of my life She likes the finer things and fuck with niggaz whose money is right Ain't nothin' like the love of my life She love the dick suck it till it cum She say I'm the best fuck of her life She give a nigga the energy he need Whenever he feels nothin' is right |
|||||
|
4:49 | ||||
from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007)
<i>[Chorus 2X: Max B & Jim]</i>
BYRD GANG WE GET MONEY.... WE WON'T STOP, WE DESTINED TO BLOW I'MA TAKE MY NIGGAZ AND BITCHES WHEREVER I GOOOO SO DON'T FORGET ABOUT ME, DON'T FORGET ABOUT MEEEE.... I KNOW I KNOOOOOOW <i>[Verse One]</i> Now due to me (JONES!) Me and my truancy (NINE TREY!) Running through the streets since early puberty! (YOUNG NIGGAZ!) What influenced me (let em know)....it was the jewelry Tryna get cash so I can do it like the older G's (BALLIIIING!) The 80's...big thick rope chains life was all crazy getting rich off cocaine (TRUE STORY NIGGA) ...so I been caught up dog, nothing like Usher (no)..... more like a hustler (yep) all night with customers, tryna get my paper up (right) Jealousy, envy....gotta watch, they'll spray you up But it was something bout the gun play.... rolling dice on blocks, double parked up on a one way (TRIPS NIGGA!) And breaking law was the norm' (yep), the club break about 4 in the morn'd So we parking lot pimp, hit the diner for some grub The squad type thick you know I'm rolling with the thugs <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Verse Two]</i> Now as I roll up my window (R-Class), blaze up the indo (that purple!).... get tore down for my homies in the pen (miss you Zeke) I'm ma take you the Cali with me (WESTSIDE!).... know ya dress code, heavy sag on ya Dickies (B'S & C'S!) You catch me out in Houston, and usually we can slow it up (slow motiooon) And get screwed, get a deuce and we can throw it up! ATL sharp, if you balling and you make it rain (BALLIIIING!) "I'm in love with a stripper", alcohol on ya brain Fast track life, the shit is uncanny (I LOVE IT) When it come to birds fly south to Miami (OPIUM!) Weather like 80 (sunny), drop-top Mercedes (BALLIN) "Sai Pa Say", on the block in Little Haiti Chicago is the wolves, the bears, and the gangster's (you hear that?) 2 12'N with the OG's, tryna get the answers And all these O. T trips got me tired drive the wheels til they fall off and I just bought some new tires <i>[Chorus]</i> |
|||||
|
5:55 | ||||
from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007)
Yo, it definitely is a concrete jungle
And yet, there's more to life than misery We have to have unity in our community We have to work together brothers and sisters (I'm from the ghetto) Yeah this is Dr. Ben, I'm with Jim Jones (Lord knows, I was on the run confused) DipSet forever (shit) We're talking about a concrete jungle (yeah it sure is a jungle) Life or Death, you have to choose life (I done seen it all, at least I think I seen it all) <i>[Verse 1]</i> I'm with my concrete jungle, no Tarzans and Janes (no swinging from vines) Diesel by the bundles, and the hard grams of 'caine (we on our grind) D's when they come through; it's hard to get some change Smoking weed getting drunk, in the car for a flame (slow down nigga) Yeah I see the traffic, but we dipping on the shoulder (break laws) Winter start to set in, it's only getting colder (dress warm) And I miss you all my political soldiers Most are doing life for moving bricks or doing hold-ups Damn I know we caught up in the fast life Some life a fiend when they caught up on the glass pipe (we pookie out here) Me, I'm still caught up from last night Same clothes from the club, on the block getting cash right (I'm on my G though) Damn, you know this world full of misery (pray for me) Some get tore up 'til they hurl off the liquor B (gettin twisted) Somebody told me that the girls need the chivalry (fuck a bitch) That's why I cop ice 'til they ass get the shivers B <i>[Chorus]</i> Ain't nothing sweet living in this ghetto (ain't nothing sweet about it) Been there, done that, running in the streets (running wild) Now put your lighters to your head, nigga ride I'm trying to make the most of my hustler (I gotta hustle) Been there, done that, so I can live out all my dreams (live out my dreams) Now put your lighters to your head, nigga ride <i>[Verse 2]</i> For the coke I would sleep hard But the game drove me nuts, in the streets, I'm a full-fledged retard Was the city block overseer Man your life is Chuck E. Cheese, mine is a pizzeria How many pies I done flipped? I lost count How many guys I done gave shit? I lost count Holding, but I can't ignore cheating Any day your life could be the hot topic at that board meeting They discussing who'll stretch you for your trees For your thievery, you living, you breathing for no fucking reason That's how it is when you make a man That's why your man's gotta learn to make himself Then you shake his hand Man, I'm into catching heavy clams And when Dezzy cans when it comes to dumping I got heavy hands Ain't gonna be right for your picking jet This is ours, the square is where we eat, this our kitchenette <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Verse 3]</i> I let my temper hit the floor I be staring through the mirror as I serenade my halls I'm fond of the juices that marinate they drawers My shorty, she bank a carrot with the four, cause If you take us out, the streets will evolve Some niggaz they live to eat, some niggaz eat to survive And my conscience keep disturbing me, fucking with my energy Niggaz that I thought was friends, really the enemy Dear Lord please grant me the serenity To accept the things that I cannot change Locked up for eight years and ain't join no gangs Been converted to true nigga, I'm as real as they come And any moment I have you staring the barrel of my gun Put my dick up in the streets, but I'm married to the slums Put the chips up in the ante and tally up the sum I'm having fun, hitting the fiends in the allies with some jums <i>[Chorus]</i> Alright, yeah but in choosing life, you got choices (oh yeah) The jungle is full of everything It's the mother and the father of creation (ain't nothing sweet about it) But listen up, you have to choose something for yourself Do something for yourself, make something of yourself That's what time it is (don't let go) Go strong, be strong, stand for something in life (all my young soldiers) Yeah, concrete jungle I can feel it, I can smell it (sometimes it gets hard) Jim Jones is spitting truth, the power (don't let 'em pull your car over) Now and forever more Making life the way it should be Ain't nothing sweet about it Make me want to scream and shout it But I know I got to hold on, and just roll on |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from DJ Artist 02 (2006) | |||||
|
2:57 | ||||
from Styles P - Super Gangster (Extraordinary Gentleman) (2007)
(feat. Max B)
Yeah L-O-X nigga It don't stop It keep goin, and goin, and goin, and goin Motherfuckers [Styles Paniro:] You heard it from the P, you oughta know it's the truth I get you kidnapped and raped and thrown off a roof You could nod your head to this like it's only a rap Cause when these bullets hit yo' ass I'm like it's only a gat I need a funeral to feel good, I'm hopin it's yours Think he religious? Heard he got shot in the cross Holiday Styles, bitch I broke most of the laws Fuck with the Porsche or flip to the boots, stick to the truth Do anything it takes just to get me this loot And missin a tooth, but both of 'em chipped, toaster is gripped You heard about the trouble, I start most of the shit When I squeeze ain't no controllin the wrist And niggas leave the room when they hear the P flowin to Swizz I'm an ignorant and negative nigga I sell crack, bust guns, pop shit, and say I'm better than niggas You think not, I'll look at your man and level a nigga If you think a rapper's better why don't you give me his name So I can run up on him, tear him up and give you his frame When it comes to the streets, I'm the nigga to call Five eight and three quarters, but I'm bigger than y'all If I left the gun home, I'm a give you the sword I'm the devil in the flesh, I can't give you the Lord It don't make no sense for you to pray for your life I got my niggas in the crib, you oughta pray for your wife [CHORUS: Jadakiss and Styles] [Jadakiss:] Uh huh, HOLIDAY [Styles:] I gotta make it to heaven for goin through hell [Jadakiss:] HOLIDAY [Styles:] And I don't care if I sell, y'all know what I sell [Jadakiss:] HOLIDAY [Styles:] I use my left hand when I'm loadin the shells [Jadakiss:] HOLIDAY [Styles:] Cause I know it ain't right, that's why I'm blowin a L [Styles Paniro:] Yo... I do it all for my niggas, even ride with a bomb Get shot, die in his arm, and give him my last It's a million dollar bail, I'm a get it in cash I sell crack like it's '88, I live in the past You know the P carry the gun, live in the Maz' Tell niggas show me the money and gimme the stash I like Malibu and pineapple, fifties of hash Hundreds of 'dro, wear my clothes a week in a row Sleep on the floor, catch me right next to the dog I'm Holiday Styles, and that's what the weaponry for And I probably won't blow for the fact that I'm hard But I'm good with ten million in the back of the car Either that or get life and lift the rack in the yard Gettin jewels from the old timers, stashin the cards But jail ain't part of the plans I keep weight on the scale cause I feel I get further with grams In my last few bars, I run through niggas like my last few cars And crash 'em up, the boy mighta went platinum but don't gas him up I get his length and his width and get his casket cut I don't deal with the snakes and fakes But I deal with the comas and wakes, I don't make mistakes Double R now bitch you oughta know I'm a ghost Blow up your face, blow up the coke, and blow up the smoke [CHORUS] |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from I Love Vocal Dance (2006) | |||||
|
4:05 | ||||
from The Eye of the Hustler (2009) | |||||
|
3:23 | ||||
from Marchesini, Farina - Majestade Real [single] (2010) | |||||
|
6:53 | ||||
from Marchesini, Farina - Majestade Real [single] (2010) | |||||
|
4:46 | ||||
from Marchesini, Farina - Majestade Real [single] (2010) | |||||
|
7:02 | ||||
from Marchesini, Farina - Majestade Real [single] (2010) | |||||
|
6:54 | ||||
from Max B, Masar - The Wavyest (2009) | |||||
|
9:14 | ||||
from Max B, Masar - The Wavyest (2009) | |||||
|
0:30 | ||||
from Max B, Masar - The Wavyest (2009) | |||||
|
1:52 | ||||
from Max B, Masar - The Wavyest (2009) | |||||
|
2:43 | ||||
from Max B, Masar - The Wavyest (2009) | |||||
|
1:49 | ||||
from Max B, Masar - The Wavyest (2009) | |||||
|
5:09 | ||||
from Max B, Masar - The Wavyest (2009) | |||||
|
4:19 | ||||
from Max B, Masar - The Wavyest (2009) | |||||
|
3:25 | ||||
from Max B, Masar - The Wavyest (2009) | |||||
|
4:07 | ||||
from Max B, Masar - The Wavyest (2009) | |||||
|
2:47 | ||||
from Max B, Masar - The Wavyest (2009) | |||||
|
0:46 | ||||
from Max B, Masar - The Wavyest (2009) | |||||
|
3:50 | ||||
from Max B, Masar - The Wavyest (2009) | |||||
|
3:12 | ||||
from Max B, Masar - The Wavyest (2009) | |||||
|
3:21 | ||||
from Max B, Masar - The Wavyest (2009) | |||||
|
1:52 | ||||
from Max B, Masar - The Wavyest (2009) | |||||
|
2:22 | ||||
from Max B, Masar - The Wavyest (2009) | |||||
|
3:44 | ||||
from Max B, Masar - The Wavyest (2009) | |||||
|
1:15 | ||||
from Max B, Masar - The Wavyest (2009) | |||||
|
2:38 | ||||
from Max B, Masar - The Wavyest (2009) | |||||
|
2:51 | ||||
from Max B, Masar - The Wavyest (2009) | |||||
|
4:27 | ||||
from Max B, Masar - The Wavyest (2009) | |||||
|
1:11 | ||||
from Max B, Masar - The Wavyest (2009) | |||||
|
2:03 | ||||
from Max B, Masar - The Wavyest (2009) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Gangster Doodles - Gangster Music Vol. 1 (2019) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from T-Shyne - The Immaculate (2018) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Purple City - Shiest Bubz: Summer Grind (2006) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Purple City - The Purple Album (2009) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Purple City - Shiest Bubz: Summer Grind (2006) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Purple City - The Purple Album (2009) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Purple City, Moe Sticky - Purple City Byrdgang: Hatin' from the Sideline (2005) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Eto - Pyrex Dialect (Explicit Ver.) (2009) |