Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Ol Thang Back , by - Juelz Santana. Release date: 31.01.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Ol Thang Back |
| Listen, you might learn some |
| Jahlil Beats, holla at me |
| Jadakiss where you been, where you at |
| This rap is wack |
| I want that old thing back |
| I want that old thing back |
| Some niggas tell a lot, some niggas sell a lot |
| Some niggas used to be mad nice, then fell a lot |
| Albums still trash I don’t care who the hell you got |
| Portraying the role of a G, we can tell you not |
| Sorry to bother you, I’m only doing what a father do |
| Your production is horrible, you’ll forever be a nerd |
| And your metaphors are better off, never being heard |
| I came in grinding, Puff made me shining |
| Put 'em both together, a protege of the 90's |
| Grew up, put that bullshit behind me |
| Started making niggas demises untimely |
| Looking for me, come to the hood you can find me |
| Gucci belt right on the waist where the 9 be |
| .38 right in the garbage, where the packs at |
| M1 right in the trunk, where the jacks at |
| Whoever is in arm length will get backslapped |
| Cause I ain’t playing with these rap cats |
| This is the flow you can’t learn |
| The dutch you can’t burn |
| Nigga, I’ve got stripes you can’t earn |
| Method Man, where you been where you at |
| These rap niggas is wack, I want that old thang back |
| Yeah, I want that old thang back |
| Yeah, I want that old thang back |
| You got the M. E, the M.E., the M.E., the M., M., M., |
| The M.E.T.H.O.D. |
| Man |
| You need a dopefiend track |
| Let me shoot up and lean back |
| With this needle stuck in my arm, never tuck in my charm |
| Most my team sling crack |
| If I hit every corner with G packs |
| Might cause the man DC to relapse |
| I’m a Hip hop junkies, who needs rap? |
| MC’s wack, Killerbees is back in the booth |
| Mind your beeswax |
| And fuck a style that you got |
| We blow a cap at any Energizer bunny right where his battery at |
| Look, the bastard child of Clarence Thomas and Reagonomics |
| On every 1st and 15th make sure you pay me homage |
| Might break a promise but never breaking the code |
| Got the floor safe, coke in the pot, fiend at the stove |
| Meth, rock a W on my clothes |
| I’m a straight rider, straight to the W with these hoes |
| I’m straight fire, these motherfuckers is froze |
| Like a skinny supermodel that like to powder her nose |
| Redman, where you been where you at |
| These rap niggas is wack, I want that old thang back |
| I want that old thang back |
| I want that old thang back |
| Dope boy, I’m like Rick James, I got that old thang |
| I got a gold chain, with gold frames |
| Doc doing the runnerman on Soul Train |
| With a chinese girl, the chicken get Lo Mein |
| Propane for the raw, I put her on the streets |
| My thoughts, the blue magic put on the beats |
| Game time, Doc rocket like Dominique |
| Straight vegetarian nigga and ignore the beef |
| Yeah, Kyrie keep the blow smoking |
| Slide in the club, cool like the floor frozen |
| Check out the wild thang got a Tone Lōco |
| Big ass and high heels with the toes open |
| That’s me, 90's MC |
| Fuck a Grammy awards, underground is tax free |
| Look in the mirror I feel fantastic |
| The mirror said 'you are, you conceited bastard' |
| Santana, where you been where you |
| These rap niggas is wack, I want that old thang back |
| I want that old thang back |
| Tell 'em I want that old thang back |
| I came to bring the pain |
| Put niggas to shame, simple and plain |
| They gon' remember my name |
| And it’s all for respect not fame |
| So don’t play with me |
| You could give 'em rope, they still can’t hang with me |
| Pass the baton, they still can’t race with me |
| So far ahead of these niggas they still chasing me |
| I wouldn’t be surprised if niggas ghostwriters got ghostwriters |
| Nothing cease to amaze you |
| Labels used to care, even though they was raping me |
| Now it’s 360 deals, modern day slavery |
| Fuck you, who payin' me, I’m the one recording |
| We’ll sue you for extortion or fame over fortune |
| The game done changed, the sound done changed |
| All these niggas sound the same |
| The word loyalty don’t even sound the same |
| Good thing I keep the pound, when it bang it always sound the same |
| I aim at the game, the real shall remain |
| Neck full of water like I drowned my chain |
| Flier than a nigga jumping out the plane |
| Higher than you niggas, you can find the strain |
| Better than you niggas that’s without me saying |
| Treat the money like the work, we don’t count, we weigh it |
| For this amount we aim it, blaze it, flame it |
| big as a shower head, you don’t want me spraying |
| Enough with the mumble jumble |
| Santana back though, can I get a drum roll? |
| Whole lotta kush and it’s stuffed in a fronto |
| Fiends still say my work taste like gumbo |
| Yeah, bring that old thang back |
| I was told to whip it up and bring the whole thang back |
| When I was pumping coke, you was jumping rope |
| I was runnin' out of bags, you was playing tag |
| While you was hop scotching, I was drop shopping |
| At the dealer paying cash for them paper tags |
| While you was pop locking, I was Glock popping |
| Getting to the cash, brown paper bags |
| Blowing money fast and it never last |
| Yeah, they make it fast, barely make it back |
| Haters gonna suffer, I’m okay with that |
| All this garbage, time to throw away the trash |