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Jim Jones
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Shotgun Fire
作词:Jim Jones
Dip-Set, uh Jones, Capo Status Dip-Set nigga You know the streets is what it is nigga Watch ya step and watch ya moves
Shit, make 'em believe in this prophecy You can see I'm tryin' to lead my democracy To get money and rip sleeve off of my city And slow down, then try to breeze through the projects B And how I speeds in velocity We came up movin' keys of that knotty B My man caught 10, couldn't find the keys to the lobby B The boys rushed him, 2 keys of mahogany In my life you can't see me, not possibly How we swoop up in Harlem, 20 Coupes When we mobbin' 40 troops if it's problems 'Cause 1 nigga you know is a shotgun driver
Ready to dump triggers, that shotgun fire I ain't gone front nigga I shot some guys up Didn't kill 'em though, fuck 'em though And they came back to my block like riders But I'm like, 'Crouching Tiger', spin, roll, crouch and fire A fast retally, now it's cash we tally Miami, Atlanta, fuck it we smash to Cali Back on L.A. Ave, you know the Lennox strip Where they Henny sip Beef we let the semi rip
Mind on my money, my money on mind Mind on my money, my money on mind Mind on my money, my money on mind You fuck wit' Dip-Set, I will press on this .9
Mind on my money, my money on mind Mind on my money, my money on mind Mind on my money, my money on mind You fuck wit' my paper, I'll press on this .9
And yeah we world renowned and I might twirl through town And in a Dip-Set mansion is where ya girl be found How can a pearl be drowned, how can a diamond not shine Man I'm on my G mack, I scoop up dimes all the time They love my pimp juice, I let my crimps loose They get a glimpse, oo, some went and cinch douche' Scoop her feed her feed her shrimp soup Mind fuck her, brain fuck her Mouth screw her 'til it hurt, uh, shit 更多更详尽歌词 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔镜歌词网
She scream, 'Do me it hurt', I'll have her movin' that work I mean two of them chirps up in her Dooney and Bourke So ruthless it hurts, I mean I'm truly bezerk When I scoop up my cash man, I swoop up and murk Yeah, a trick and a bag bitch, two bricks and a bad bitch Shit, them bitches mackin', I'm as sick as maggot But I don't fuck wit no bitch if she ain't worth No chips or no cabbage
Mind on my money, my money on mind Mind on my money, my money on mind Mind on my money, my money on mind You fuck wit' Dip-Set, I will press on this .9
Mind on my money, my money on mind Mind on my money, my money on mind Mind on my money, my money on mind You fuck wit' my paper, I'll press on this .9
I'm so problematic And do to servin' Harlem-matics My fame and fortune still revolve wit' static Still involve wit' savage types that move drugs 365 all around set every nite I ain't the passive type On the benches where I crashed them nites Blowin' hemp, movin' slabs of white Spend days up in court How I shaved weight to snort Give that to the press or Dave Mays in the source
Yes, since success it has changed Since we, stepped up in this game And stepped up wit' our game No more chef cuttin' cain Hoes X'd up in they brain Lemme sex up in the Range So much princess cuts in my chains
Mind on my money, my money on mind Mind on my money, my money on mind Mind on my money, my money on mind You fuck wit' Dip-Set, I will press on this .9
Mind on my money, my money on mind Mind on my money, my money on mind Mind on my money, my money on mind You fuck wit' my paper, I'll press on this .9
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