Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Coke Money Jones, artist - Slaine. Album song The Boston Project, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 15.04.2013
Record label: Suburban Noize
Song language: English
Coke Money Jones |
Ea$y Money, the track matador |
But I don’t wave capes at bulls |
To murder you lyrically I am cap-a-ble |
'sup hater, I see how your face is screwed |
How convenient — always been one to play with tools |
See, I got the hammer, my squad is nuts |
So you better bolt 'fore we wash a nigga up |
My dogs I’m in the lab with, makin' wild classics |
To pile mad chips, paper like a foul carrot |
And to get it we bang-bang with the toaster |
Bring ya man with you, aim flame, hit you both up |
Main aim is to gain fame and get mo' bucks |
Easy, Chilla, my man Slaine from the Coka |
Rap dudes ain’t fuckin' with that |
Make sure we spit that shit till the chips stack quicker |
Mama you fly but I can’t kick back with ya |
But you can hold Dick like you kidnapped Richard |
Ea$y Money Helltown, and you don’t stop |
Slaine reppin Roslindale, and you don’t quit |
Chilla Jones Dorchester, and you don’t stop |
Coke Money Jones, and we’re on our own shit |
My habits are bad, my intentions are worse |
They criticize my sentences, try to censor my verse |
Cause I’m insensitive, they thought I was pensive at first |
Like I was Asian, but I’m just more expensive to jerk |
I’m feelin caged in like a lion trapped in a zoo |
I’m not relyin on what other rappers happen to do |
I stick both of my fists in glass, fuckin wrap 'em in glue |
If I have to, leave you bleedin while we’re laughin at you |
But if there ain’t a lotta violence then I don’t feel at home |
Makin Money look Ea$y with enough Dope to Chilla Jones |
The eyes of a hawk, heart of a lion, a killer’s dome |
So many demons in my past, I ain’t never feel alone |
I got my mind made up, it’s fightin in the level |
That I took it since I put it on 'The White Man Is the Devil' |
What you’re lookin at, you’re starin at a legend, poppy |
It’s pretty obvious I got the city locked and you could never stop me |
You are wild, Slaine, nowadays I’m a vowed name |
I brainstorm, let the cloud rain |
Ha, we set the standard for lyrical |
Cause every 16 is plain nuts like planters original |
Splittin hard, not the one to be pissin off |
Listen, I got bars on lock like a prison guard |
Are we feudin with beef, yo? |
Knock at your door, pop in the four, put two in your peep hole |
You wanna battle? |
Stupid, I beast those |
Now you in front of foul lines like you shootin a free throw |
East Coast reppin, Beantown violator |
I’m on point off top like a skyscraper |
Annihilator, you can try, hater |
Just push me, the Tec wet pussies like a vibrator |
Slaine said body it, hit 'em with cocky shit |
Now watch me spit more punches than a Rocky flick |