Lirik Lagu End Of The Road - Jim Jones
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feat.Bun-B, T.I.
(T.I. talking)Jim Jones what it is homieKilla Cam, Freekz Zeeky, Juelz whats happ'ninHey 'a aye... yea yea yea 'a ayeT.I.P. nigga y 'a y yeeah. Aye a ayeI'm up in Harlem to put it down wit my muthafuckin folksDipset bitch. A town to muthafuckin NYnigga you already know what it is. BankheadC-rod, Grand Hustle, Diplomatsyou dont like it kill yaself nigga. Lets go
(verse 1 T.I.)Late night straight white fa ya base pipeNo mo quarter O's get ya weight rightCrack rock black glock kept it waist height (hey)It hit ya mug you dont imagine what ya face likeAmerican pie I'm tellin you guysyou want beef wit us well who the fucks preparin you guysWe sparin you guys get buried aliveWhat you rushin fa, act like you in a hurry to dieSome I let 'em fly 'fore I let that rideI paralize ya like Supermans horseback ride niggaWalk up on ya car and scorch dat rideFlat tires, glass shattered wit a corpse insideA town break down straight pounds of dro'Still deal if you want 10 birds or moPimp Squad, Dipset I know ya heard beforeIf we called you a bitch you deserved it hoe. Aye
(verse 2 Jim Jones)I cop bricks of the crack (dat yayo)And take it to my block, strip or my trap, my block strip is so trappedCops quick wit a strap, and you'll be scared shitlessHow they where the big fifth and load up flares and biscuitsI'll take ya bitch from you, bring her back wit smeared lipstick (She Mine)You can compare ballistics, but it's mere physics (Pimpin)I'm 2-3's on drops, I used to play hoopties on blocksplottin man like who he gon popIn this tragic city, now I'm Bankheadin4 tens headin down in ATL's Magic CityYes the stash is pretty, and the mag hold 50We take ova towns, then send the Rovers 'roundLookin fa hoes to pound, ya local hoochie spotLookin fa hoochies hot, to get they coochie poppedI love the titty bars, I love my
(T.I. talking)Jim Jones what it is homieKilla Cam, Freekz Zeeky, Juelz whats happ'ninHey 'a aye... yea yea yea 'a ayeT.I.P. nigga y 'a y yeeah. Aye a ayeI'm up in Harlem to put it down wit my muthafuckin folksDipset bitch. A town to muthafuckin NYnigga you already know what it is. BankheadC-rod, Grand Hustle, Diplomatsyou dont like it kill yaself nigga. Lets go
(verse 1 T.I.)Late night straight white fa ya base pipeNo mo quarter O's get ya weight rightCrack rock black glock kept it waist height (hey)It hit ya mug you dont imagine what ya face likeAmerican pie I'm tellin you guysyou want beef wit us well who the fucks preparin you guysWe sparin you guys get buried aliveWhat you rushin fa, act like you in a hurry to dieSome I let 'em fly 'fore I let that rideI paralize ya like Supermans horseback ride niggaWalk up on ya car and scorch dat rideFlat tires, glass shattered wit a corpse insideA town break down straight pounds of dro'Still deal if you want 10 birds or moPimp Squad, Dipset I know ya heard beforeIf we called you a bitch you deserved it hoe. Aye
(verse 2 Jim Jones)I cop bricks of the crack (dat yayo)And take it to my block, strip or my trap, my block strip is so trappedCops quick wit a strap, and you'll be scared shitlessHow they where the big fifth and load up flares and biscuitsI'll take ya bitch from you, bring her back wit smeared lipstick (She Mine)You can compare ballistics, but it's mere physics (Pimpin)I'm 2-3's on drops, I used to play hoopties on blocksplottin man like who he gon popIn this tragic city, now I'm Bankheadin4 tens headin down in ATL's Magic CityYes the stash is pretty, and the mag hold 50We take ova towns, then send the Rovers 'roundLookin fa hoes to pound, ya local hoochie spotLookin fa hoochies hot, to get they coochie poppedI love the titty bars, I love my
