Lyrics:
juvenile
Thin line between getting Bucks and gettin' wild
Brooklyn style, hundred thousand miles
Parquet tiles, leavin' ankles broke in a pile
Son got
Yeah
Ooh, Ooh, Uh huh
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
I wanna, Ooh
I wanna
I wanna flex on my ex (My yeah)
I wanna bury a check (A check)
Count hundreds by
feel like these walls talkin' to me (in my own mind)
I was young when my mama had me
Think I ran away from home 'bout the age of fifteen
Juvenile
and fightin'
In juvenile detention centers, incitin' riots
In the studio, two nights in off a gram of that meth
Water whippin' in my kitchen, sticks
those that wanna cramp my style
When I ask they be like huh
Like a juvenile crack a smile say a rhyme
That's straight out cold
Strong enough to grab
this gut, what the fuck
I wish moms would hurry up so I could get buck
While, Juvenile rippin' mics and shit
New York, New York ready for the likes
[Wayne]
What, wha, wha, wha, wha
What, wha, wha, wha, wha
Cash Mo-ney Millionaires
So take it there
[Juvenile]
Yellow Viper, yellow Hummer,
came from
The Feds picked a couple niggas up
Now, we duckin' them Feds now
It's hard to come by some Activis
Now we drinkin' that red now
Cocaine all
thuggin' like that
Murder, murder, kill, kill, bitch, I'm realer than real
I was taught play with a sword, bitch, you die by the steel
Stuck in my ways, I
cracked up to be
And I can't say I blame you
For throwing the towel in or buying more fame
by cashing your chips in
But with all of your talent, and so
Ain't Worried Bout It cause my mane lie
On Two A pack too fly
Selling in the street no B by
Why they call it white president
Niggas all I see is this
night stand
Formula music, girly guile
Genuine junk food for juveniles
Up and down the dial
Mercenary style
I watched the stars chuck down their
[Bahamadia]
I'm mystical; don't be deceived by the visual
Visible preference is pure; patent it back to metaphors
Greetin' 'em Illa del style wild
damn, I really miss him
Ran up my money but still ain't happy, like, what I'm missin'?
I guess they blinded by the diamonds, the fame, and the millions
a leader, take your pick
Now I'm smokin buddha philly blunt style
A frustrated and confused young juvenile
King of the project blues so I choose
To take
on any punk ass nigga or bitch
The little brown skin buddha sucker little motherfucker
I dwell in Juvenile Hell (yea yea)
I got the shit that
Yo this is flavor for the non believes
Sit back take a seat and don't forget to pass the weed
And by the way this is all the way live
was Farmer
Shorty got the death wish, I wish to die
But when I try, it just goes by
You couldn't kill me because I can't kill myself
And if I got
A frustrated and confused young juvenile
King of the project blues so I choose
To take a piece of the action
But my sober state of mind won't let it happen
to survive
I been uptown, played many games, hurt by many girls
Been all around, looking for love, but no one to trust
I been locked down with the big
pushing these bars like its my last set
24/7 I been working overtime
Ain't got that much to show for it
Still had to sell my soul for it
Just to get by
24/7
way)
Cause I got nuttin to lose, suttin to prove, I'm screamin' EASTSIDE
(EASTSIDE!!!)
While I dump on you dudes (Dip-Set!)
And what we live by (yeah),
BOP-A-LENA
WRITERS MEL TILLIS, WEBB PIERCE
RECORDED BY RONNIE SELF
Oop-scooby-dooby-lena, go-gal-go
bop-a-lena, bop-a-lena, she's my gal
Oh,
see likkle juvenile wid a nine a spray
Me see man guh prison
And nuh survive a day
Yow de youths dem need a brighter day
Right a way
Chro me cahh
.jpg/237px-Juvenile(rapper).jpg "Juvenile")
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