Jim Jones & Juelz Santana & Cam’ron
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Hot track from Jim Jones' album On My Way to Church, just three verses from Dipset’s best rappers close to the top of their game
[Verse 1: Jim Jones]
We set them precedents, to get them presidents
Over the ones that are dead, we will put guns to your head
Put dots on your loaf like you was wonder the bread
Zeek, Sheek, Hell Rell, and I got some in the Feds
I contradict what ever the government says
For them boys on my back wit them bugs by my bed
They still thinkin' that we coppin' sellin raw
Tryin' to put us through them Ricos and them Rockefeller laws
I'm in LA the top down the pedals floored
Wit a hot stiletto whore, suck my cock tell the law
And for you faggots I see past all your cheap stares
Nowadays I see my past from a beach chair
And the feeling's so relaxin', refreshin' and chillin'
A total change from movin' crack off the steps of the buildings
Rollin wit gangs in the back of the 'jects where the killin'
In Park Ave. where young Chris body found
A number is all to add to task body count
Watch it boy they'll show you how that shotty bounce, bounce, bounce...
[Verse 2: Juelz Santana]
I'm the most incredible, to ever do what you cats'll never do, or be able to
I'm ahead of you, cause I spit like I never ate, and if I did then I'm just never full
Stop the ho jokes, I'm not a homo, better believe I'll cock the 4-4
I ain't Mexican, but I'll stretch your man, yes I am a fuckin' vato loco
I went from the pot with cocoa
To the block with cocoa
To gettin' locked, catchin' a charge
Dealin' wit the cops and cocoa
Now I'm just hot like cocoa
You can catch me on the block, being watched, in a drop
The same color as chocolate cocoa
I done walked in the street
With so much raw in my sneaks
God dam, got home and had corns on my feet
I see the lord when I sleep, and often he speaks
He says Juelz you better than all of these creeps
So I got all my shit light, got on my shit right
Not a lot of them's this nice
But the game's funny so I gotta do shit right
So to the ball drop, and the world blow up, I'm a twirl shit up
Until my peeps come home, Zeek come home, better believe I'm a keep on beastin' on
[Verse 3: Cam'ron]
Where should I begin? I'm pompous
A thousand wins accomplished
Known throughout the atlas, honest spin a compass
You'll be abolished
Men, children, women astonished
The Don is the one. jewelry: way beyond this
Chunky blessed on the chest
Funky? Yes when I dress
Thunder storm, damn
Monkey wrench in the fresh
But I cope wit' the rain
Mad I can't float with my dames
Down to the coastal wit caine
Maine, my boat is a plane
I land on the water, here I go boastin' again
I keep toast, give a toast, inhale smoke for the pain
Girls gone wild? Nope
They goin' insane
All doped off the fame
Jump rope with my chain
Now that's off the chain, Ma take off your chain
The 40 will off your brain, kids will be lost and claimed
Cause of Walton James, now in the orphan game
Whether adoption or foster its all the same
Jim the rider of riders
JR the writer of writers
Juelz you know him well, hell he the fire of fire
I'm the supplier, baffled? That's the hustler
Trife got a knife for that apple inside your jugular
The Big Apple, I tackle all the customers
Put it on the apple at the castle, come and fuck with us
And further more, got the birds of raw, I deserve a tour
Hey, hey holla' back, swallow that
Thats murder whore
In a Persian turban, swervin', that Suburban mergin', curvin', herb in the air
Yeah, yeah I'm hurtin y'all
See I crash and cop it, mash and mop it, blast a rocket
Natural born hustler, yeah crack I stocked it
Now my drugs are legal, so just pass the profit
Three months alone Sizzurp will smash the 'Notic
We them B boys in one year a quarter billion
Here come the clothing line, I got your order children
And that's more than illin'
Long as the Lord is willin'
I'm a pour in millions, so applaud a villain
Killa
Only One Way Up was written by Jim Jones & Cam’ron & Juelz Santana.
Only One Way Up was produced by .
Jim Jones released Only One Way Up on Tue Aug 24 2004.