Lyrics:
Musical disc sound play
Man say, name fi matter who you are
Play by di hit bound sound
You fi gather 'round (Murder)
This cold-cold world ain’t gonna
Yardman drill this a yardman drill
Move grumpy with the pumpy
Mi fren Stumpy him jumpy
Have my food by fortnight
Cause my guns bigger dan PUBG
Gun dem big
, a-jump the a-gun.
She's not a girl who misses much.
(DR. EDISON AMOS: In these ten bill of rights,
Each one gives the people a special right.)
Uh yeah Jones, uh
Now we set them presidents, to get them presidents
Over the ones that are dead, we'll put guns to your head
Put dots on your loaf
implies inferiority
Corollary: colonizers ain't authorities
On who is and who isn't good for national security
By the way, if your love for guns exceeds
a queen
Who looks at me with certainty
You hear me b?
This is our life so let's live
I could be lemonade who is the tea
There's half of you and there's half
have been imprisoned by my father, who wishes me to
marry against my will. Please, please, please come and rescue me.
I am in the tall tower of Swamp
you blamped, word life, my throat is high
See RiggaTone with the velvet mask on
Cleaning his glass arm...
Who want to battle the Don?
I'm James
We set them presidents
To get them presidents
Over the ones that are dead
We'll put guns to your head
Put dots on your loaf like
You was wonder
but peacefully cause we think that peace is only got
by peaceful methods and that to fight the establishment
with their own weapons is no good,
because
the excuse of 'National Security'
By the lying shits who were interested only in saving their political skins.
It didn't matter a fuck to them how many died
to Po-Po's, smoke em like cocoa
Fuck rap, coke by the boatload
Fuck dat, on the run-by, gun high, one eye closed
Left holes through some guy clothes
Stop
to Po-Po's, smoke em like cocoa
Fuck rap, coke by the boatload
Fuck dat, on the run-by, gun high, one eye closed
Left holes through some guy clothes
Stop
Never jump up in-a mi face 'cause I gun
Never judge a book by di cover, dat's wrong
Dis is Fat Joe alongside di Banton
Hey, what about Pun?
Rudeboy,
hit ya motha with bricks
Cocoa why don't ya build buildings with concussion the bitch
Come and feel wit the balla who's the nicest and causin'
dogs alone tha’ jus’ not who I am
You need be bold I am My pack know who I am
They jump I jump I jump they jump I’ll slide da who I am lil bro wassup
I
mean rewind the gun-check me baby)
I rock and shock the dough is show squeeze and cheese and whether pleasin'
Coolin' breezin' at the teas and how can
Looking back
I ain't who I used to be
Don't see the friends that I used to see
Cut out the people that were using me
Looking back
I miss all
opinions but holding laryngitis
See I don’t hear ‘em, I’m a winner by law
Track em down like the subway
When they sub par
Sub-zero everytime I jump in
guys
And so you ask about the god DO
I'm top notch holdin my spot gun by my crotch
You think not I'm respected and feared around here
And so I must
to jam) oh yeah
I was at the crib, sittin' by the fireplace
Drinkin' cocoa on the bear skin rug
Door bell rang, who could it be?
Thought to myself
of a master
You never thought you'd be bodied by a bastard
A bachelor who backspin on breakbeats
Break necks of broke souls who hate me
Hate he? you can't
been after mean figures, ask my lil' nigga
Since back in the days, before he was raised
Ain't nobody puttin' fear in my heart, who need a jump start
So what the fuck you talkin' about? (Aw, shit)
Goody, goody, gumdrops
Nigga, get your hoodie and your gun cocked
Rock it 'til the drum stops
Hip
Discuss these who jump the gun by cocoa tea Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In