Lyrics:
I'm sick with them tools
Shit, that's why I'm kicked out of school
Fuck J's by da locker, come and holla, uhh
Out on my own, movin out with
everything
A friend of mine told me he saw you the other day
Said you was still lookin' good
Heh, made me feel kinda good, you know
Told me, told me that
old skools
Sure to be a night, making my own rules
Boy I see you out, wearing them J’s
There ain’t no doubt, these are new days
All about them Vans,
the good intensions
No pension
No sick pay
Do anything for a quick payday
New rims and some new J's
New nails, she got new braids
Diabetes drinking Kool Aid
the good intensions
No pension
No sick pay
Do anything for a quick payday
New rims and some new J's
New nails, she got new braids
Diabetes drinking Kool Aid
Gucci link looking like a CD on it
Ask my nigga Pharrell
Pull the cool J's out, and pass you niggas the L's, huh
It's just one of them days you
ain't a sticker butter head, we up the score by like six
We smokin' good gas, nigga on the corner that we shoot at
That's a new pack, and it's
Shit, tired of gettin shot at
Tired of gettin chased by the police and arrested
Niggaz need a spot where WE can kick it
A spot where WE belong,
kush gon' get burnt up
Shit, the next day I'm at LAX
Uncle Tre' pulled up in a Camaro SS
Black on black, sitting on 23s
Bumping Rich Boy like, "Bitch
Now I'm the Fresh Prince, and if you got good sense
You'll keep your distance, because my sole intent
Is to rock and shock the spot and give my
I'm gung ho
They sayin', "Girl, you ain't Jamaican, accents got to go"
And I say, "Hell no, hell no"
I got Jamaica in my lungs, it's that good hydro
Game is back
[Chorus]
[Verse 2]
Public Enemy and N.W.A is on my boom box, had to say
Today was a good day, had the hood buzzin'
Ice Cube my
xtra-large
Let 'em have it
Went out the house I think it was a Sunday
Nigga was runnin' with drop top drop havin' a fun-day
Kickin' it with my niggas
Glocks on his waste
Bitch we serve in the night and we serve in the day got a j on the way
Whip the dope up Betty Crocker boy we whip the dope like it's
shooting guns fantasizing
fascinated by gold rope chains
looking back at my hood days
but things aint changed
[chorus]
[Millenium Thug]
In my hood niggaz
is reminisce like Mary J
I want to get with you
So come and get with me
We'll be K-I-S-S-I-N-G
And all that good stuff
Calling you bluff, now look
pas de répit
Faut de la caille pour tailler d'ici
Donne moi le coffre fais pas l'imbécile
Plus rien à perdre, j'ai connu la merde
Voilà ce que te
""What If I Told You I Love You""
(M. Finney, J. Stringfellow)
Put that needle on that record man
It's something good for the soul
Something you all
blood-related, but my brother nigga
If he say he fuckin', then he fuckin', nigga
Good by myself, nigga, I don't need nobody
Hit it through the body, but I don't
Like Isabelle Adjani,
She glides by upon,
A bank of violets,
with those eyes,
That see it all,
And then she smiles...
Like a bee with honeyed thighs,
convention
Back in the day - I blazed my hay and dreamed about recognition
But I done made it, they hate it
I love it, becuz of DJ Paul and Juicy J - I got
was so enticed
By niggas like slick money and ice
We figure prison it should come with the light
Along with losin' your life
And there were no way
kicking dust in my brand new J’s
And my PJ go
Ooooooooooooooooooooo
(what’s it like, eh what's it like, eh what's it like though)
Flying pass em like
Better and better by the day and I love the way it taste
Like CoJo say they got nothing on you now
I don't want no caviar
I don't want no steak
I don't
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