Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Na na nana na na , by - Jim Jones. Release date: 06.04.2009
Song language: English
Na na nana na na |
| Dipset, as we proceed what have we here? |
| Take that, take that, it’s 0−9 muthafucka |
| One thing to do get money muthafucka |
| I pulled off like na, na, na, na, na, na |
| They would of tried some bullshit but a nigga had the blamer |
| They only got me 'cause they caught it on a camera |
| They wanna ball but they ain’t got no stamina |
| They said damn man, you lookin' like Pac |
| I said, nah not alive, man I’m lookin' like Jones |
| Besides I put money on your skull and bones |
| And keep it low, watch what you say up on those fuckin' phones |
| Touch down and getcha ass hung the fuck up |
| Just like a bunch of clothes |
| Hey, ma we stretch work like you touch your toes |
| And in the middle of July we got that summer snow |
| I got 'em snowboarding in August and I love a pretty bitch |
| But the Porsche look gorgeous |
| Harlem is one big ski slalom, I guess the hill is like the Swiss Alps |
| We bring them whips out |
| We gettin' money like na, na, na, na, na, na |
| Waitin' at the flash throwin' money at the cameras |
| Twin turbs out speeding with the scanners |
| Breeze past the cops screamin' na, na, na, na, na, na |
| We gettin' money like na, na, na, na, na, na |
| Lookin' at my ass don’t you wish he had a camera |
| We gettin' money like na, na, na, na, na, na |
| Drop top at the light screamin' life is good |
| If there’s money on my head I hope they got a receipt |
| Cool your old ass off 'cause it’s hot on these streets |
| I got dogs and they not on a leash |
| So you hope you understand, do you copy, capesh? |
| At this point I don’t think they could take it |
| Sharks in the water they won’t make it to safety |
| And even though that we been gettin' cake |
| And now the money taste sweet like pastry, they hate me |
| Now tell me how I look |
| Would you rather live life like me or by the book? |
| Sheesh, we are what we are |
| Make the wrong move will put your faggot ass in the ER |
| Flat line if it’s red apples fallin' hit me on the bat line |
| I’m back for mine some more black flyin' |
| The flyest nigga you know that got a knack for crime, na, na |
| We gettin' money like na, na, na, na, na, na |
| Waitin' at the flash throwin' money at the cameras |
| Twin turbs out speeding with the scanners |
| Breeze past the cops screamin' na, na, na, na, na, na |
| We gettin' money like na, na, na, na, na, na |
| Lookin' at my ass don’t you wish he had a camera |
| We gettin' money like na, na, na, na, na, na |
| Drop top at the light screamin' life is good |
| And what you do nigga? |
| I cop cars out the future, pocket so fat like Raspusha |
| I think I’m gettin' used to lifestyle rich and conspicuous |
| Chicks want to get with us, the feds takin' flicks of us |
| They all know I put on for Harlem |
| Tell rich Broadway I took it up another level |
| I took 80, blew it on a Beezle |
| Bought the new Fiskar, flew it through the ghetto |
| The definition of opulence |
| The jewels drippin', we droppin' on top and poppin' shit |
| Who would think that this kid from the projects |
| Get his neck so cold you would think he’s lethargic |
| The wrist look like hypothermia set in |
| Pick a club night that the burner don’t get in |
| We pop champagne until the club let out |
| I drink and I fuck and then I piss a nigga rent out |
| We gettin' money like na, na, na, na, na, na |
| Waitin' at the flash throwin' money at the cameras |
| Twin turbs out speeding with the scanners |
| Breeze past the cops screamin' na, na, na, na, na, na |
| We gettin' money like na, na, na, na, na, na |
| Lookin' at my ass don’t you wish he had a camera |
| We gettin' money like na, na, na, na, na, na |
| Drop top at the light screamin' life is good |
| You know the rules nigga? |
| Fly high or get flew over |
| Roll with us or get rolled over, ain’t nothin' change |
| Just the decimal point muthafucka, you get the point? |
| Money, money, money, don’t make dollars, don’t make sense |
| Fuck you nigga, suck a dick too, Jones |