Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Emerica, artist - Ja Rule.
Date of issue: 31.12.2001
Song language: English
Emerica |
Extra, extra |
Extra, extra |
Hear all about it |
Ja Rule has just been elected the President… |
Of the united ghetto’s of Emerica |
And this is what he had to say at presstime |
At press time this is what Ja Rule had to say |
America… |
Welcome to Emerica |
(Don't hate me) Cuz I done made this world what it’s gon be |
Welcome to Emerica |
(Don't hate me) Cuz I done made this world what it’s done to me |
Niggas, if I could pledge my allegiance to the, United Ghettoes |
Of the Emerica, go on sell ya drugs |
Cuttin taxes for strippers and thugs |
It’s all good, room for mayor in all hood and as well I should |
I make it publicly desmist understood |
When they caught me gettin high in the back of the ho-tel |
Was you freakin them ho’s? |
Well, I just say I was gettin a lil head but so what |
Bill and Hillery stay for them stills |
That’s a down ass bitch for ya |
Wash em with some soap and water |
And return them dirty bra’s to their rightful owner |
Now that’s creep shit |
One over one, I got this broad on the one-o-one |
She’s botherin, so don’t even come up in here |
Cuz shes contious, no nonsense |
She like to choke on the dick, and the lungs on the constant |
Gettin the W1's you church girl |
Proda stant, it’s aiight ma you rollin wit the Inc |
Yeah I’m here can you tell? |
Mo' niggas livin, livin in ??? |
in Emerica |
I’m never gonna feel, Nigga I’m tellin ya |
Young Life is a compeditor |
And is into real my niggas headed up hill |
I’m lettin you know shit’s real |
I came into the game copped a deal |
Aimin to get this shit still |
It ain’t been a minute I ain’t been high |
And I haven’t handled my buisness |
How I been fuckin you bitches right |
Yeah you witnesses my life |
Imperial night, in the ghetto holdin my medal tight |
Still, in Emerica |
Remilitary is terror nigga holds his medal |
Of his never be availible |
That easy I’m a editor, restin up with the best of em |
Minds of them bitches that stress givin em hard sex |
I’m set for life, the lightin ho’s that write |
And hit the mic, not over night |
You get the gift to be the best of something like |
(Enough in Emerica) Young Life is comin home |
Motherfuckers prepare to die |
Niggas hit that crack houses hustlers and hoes |
No youngins up on the corners nigga smokin them bones |
I’m rattin away wit knots comin up, what’s no pills? |
That’s why they’ll find your ass slumped in the blacks of ville |
But still, I spot that paper Jo, Blowin my weed |
And ain’t a thing a mother need is gotta be me |
But now days these lil youngins rollin on E |
And a nigga that supplyin that is who runs the streets |
Now look, this ain’t no crack day |
I gotsa come up on the stash and get back man |
Cuz I done witness all this shit that they say them ho’s do |
Fuckin wit X, like finger fuckin that hot Glock |
While she swallow her tit |
But real, there nigga want his dick sucked? |
Bitches is why bitches turn that rehold into a intrick (It's pimp shit) |
No limp dick, just a gangsta fuck |
Why the murder put some major bust biatch |
Welcome to Emerica… |