Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Pour Wax, artist - Jim Jones.
Date of issue: 06.11.2006
Song language: English
Pour Wax |
Yeah, you pour wax on the table, uh huh, and you set it on fire |
Uh, yeah, you know |
This that dope boy shit, nigga |
Ya smell me, fuck wit ya |
Your reign on the top, short like leprechauns |
I came through in drops, Porches and heavy charms |
And I came from the block, was flawless with ex-cons |
And we aimin' them glocks, of course, ready to bomb |
Now I done seen a custy cop four pies of the same gear |
I also seen a nigga cop four rides in the same year |
The concrete jungle, no trees to swing from |
This weed and gettin' drunk and heaters gettin' dumped |
Or hit the highway, nigga, key’s up in the trunk |
Back up in the city with some skeezers in the trunk |
I ain’t a player but I do my dirt, dawg |
Drop top 'Cedes better move when it murk off |
I got it swayin' to the left lane |
Plus a nigga coughin' 'cause the haze give me chest pain |
Yes, mothafucka, the boys are back with my vest |
And I’m tucked up with my boys in back, fucka |
You don’t want it with them niggas |
While you haters steady bitchin', my niggas gettin' richer |
Bet you’re mad 'cause we ballin', bet you’re mad 'cause we scorin' |
If he get outta line, put his punk ass in the coffin |
Nigga, we the regime, Byrdgang, we the truth |
Even four in sedan, I’m swervin' in the coupe |
Oak wood in interior, suede on the roof |
Now shoot back, now shoot back |
Ah man, Hell Rell, he on the same bullshit again |
Same black hoodie, ya same fo' fifth again |
Bitches stop likin' me but now they on my dick again |
See me in that Aston with my chain glistenin' |
Yeah, I’m bustin' off the chrome, yeah, I’m 'bout to off your dome |
Kill a mother and a father, kids go to foster homes |
Yeah, I like to floss the chrome, nigga, leave the boss alone |
See my neck and my wrist, I’m rockin' with a cost for homes |
Homie, they don’t call me Ruger for nothin' |
Back out on these bitch niggas, get that Ruger to dumpin' |
So don’t run up on me, nigga, you know I stay with it |
G’d up from my beef and brocks, to the Oakland A’s, fitted |
That’s the bottom to the top, you seen the bottom of the pot |
I got it white, I got it tan, it’s either you coppin' or you not |
Nigga, jets is pullin' off and you stuck on the curb |
D I P, B G, fuck what you heard |
You don’t want it with them niggas |
While you haters steady bitchin', my niggas gettin' richer |
Bet you’re mad 'cause we ballin', bet you’re mad 'cause we scorin' |
If he get outta line, put his punk ass in the coffin |
Nigga, we the regime, Byrdgang, we the truth |
Even four in sedan, I’m swervin' in the coupe |
Oak wood in interior, suede on the roof |
Now shoot back, now shoot back |
We all strapped in the ride, I ain’t talkin' like the elderly |
Yak when we drive, like we rollin' fuckin' felony |
Trap to survive, get the buck, sellin' keys, it’s hard to get by |
That’s why we puff hella weed |
But if this high don’t come down |
I feel the walls 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, that bent that dude like |
Spyder 430 with the bluish lights |
Got the coupe, bright, but we still shoot dice |
For my niggas on the Eastside, this is true life |
You don’t want it with them niggas |
While you haters steady bitchin', my niggas gettin' richer |
Bet you’re mad 'cause we ballin', bet you’re mad 'cause we scorin' |
If he get outta line, put his punk ass in the coffin |
Nigga, we the regime, Byrdgang, we the truth |
Even four in sedan, I’m swervin' in the coupe |
Oak wood in interior, suede on the roof |
Now shoot back, now shoot back |
© SALLY RUTH ESTHER PUBLISHING; |
Pour Wax Sözleri, AkorMerkezi.com'da yayınlanmıştır. |