Pour Wax - Jim Jones feat Hell Rell
[Jim Jones]
You're reign on the top, short like Leprechauns
I came through in drops, Porches and heavy charms
I came from the block, the slums wit ex-con's
And we aimin' them glocks of course ready to bomb
Now I done seen a Custy' cop four pies of the same gear
Also seen a n_gga cop four rides in the same year
This concrete jungle, no trees to swing from
This weed and gettin drunk and heaters gettin dumped
Hit the highway n_gga ki's up in the trunk
Back up in the city with some skeezas in the trunk
I aint a player but I do my dirt dog
Drop top 'Cedes better move when it merk off
It got me swingin to the left lane
Plus a n_gga caughin 'cause the haze give me chest pain
Yes motha f_cka the boys is back
With my vest and I'm tucked up with my boys in back
[Chorus: Jim Jones]
You dont want it with them n_ggaz
While you n_ggaz steady b_tching my n_ggaz gettin' richer
You mad 'cause we ballin'
Bet you mad 'cause we scorin
If he get out of line put his punk ass in a coffin
N_gga we a ragime, Byrdgang we the truth
Keep a foriegn sedan or swirvin' in the coupe
Oakwood in the interior, swade on the roof
Now shoot, {Bang, Bang} shoot {Bang, Bang}
[Hell Rell]
Aw man Hell Rell, he on the same bullsh_t agiain
Same black hoody{Yup}, same fo' fifth again
Bithes stopped likin' me but now they on my d_ck again
Seen me in the Ashton with my glistinin'
Yea I'm bustin off the chrome
Yea I'm 'bout to off your dome
Kill the mother and the father, kids go to foster homes
Yea I like to floss the chrome, n_gga leave the boss alone
See my neck and my wrist, I'm rockin' what it costs for homes
Homie they dont call me ruger for nothing
Back out on theese b_tch n_ggaz get that ruger to dumpin'
Dont run up on me n_gga you know I stay with it
G'd up from the beef and brock's to the Oakland A's fitted
That's the bottom to the top, it's in the bottom of the pot
I got it white, I got it tan, it's either you copin' or you not
N_gga jets is pullin' off and you stuck in the current
D.I.P., B.G., f_ck what you heard
[Chorus]
[Jim Jones]
We all strapped in the ride, I aint talkin' like the elderly
Yac'ed when we drive like a rollin f_ckin' felony
Trapped to survive, get the bucks, sell them ki's
It's hard to get by that's why we puff hell'a'weed
But if this high dont come down
I feal the world spinnin' like the sky gon' come down
I need air top of the ride gon' come down
And i swear I stay fly when I jump out
Jewled up in ice like what that dude like
Spider four thirty with the blue'ish lights
Got the coupe bright, still shoot dice
For my n_ggaz on the east side this is true life
[Chorus]
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