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Jim Jones - Shotgun Fire lyrics
[Intro / Chorus] Dip-Set, uh (Jones) Money on mind (Capo Status) Mind on my money (Dip-set nigga) My money on mind (You know the streets is what it is nigga) Mind on my money (Watch ya step and watch ya moves) My money on mind Mind on my money My money on mind [Verse 1] Shit, make 'em believe in this prophecy (movement) You can see I'm tryin to lead my democracy (Dip-Set) To get money and rip sleeve off of my city (New York) And slow down, then try to breeze thru the projects B (Taft) And how I speeds in velocity (160) We came up movin keys of that knotty B (that Yae-Yo) My man caught 10, couldn't find the keys to the lobby B The boys rushed him, 2 keys of mahogany (Damn!) In my life you can't see me not possibly (Nooo!) How we swoop up in Harlem, 20 Coupes when we mobbin' 40 troops if it's problems (What Nowww!) Cause 1 nigga you know is a shotgun driver (jus 1 nigga) Ready to dump triggers, that shotgun fire (blakka!) I ain't gone front nigga I shot some guys up (didn't kill 'em though, fuck 'em though) And they came back to my block like riders (Yop!) But I'm like "Crouching Tiger", spin, roll, crouch and fire (Boom, Yea!) A fast retally (Uh Huh!) Now it's cash we tally Miami, Atlanta, fuck it we smash to Cali (L.A.X.!) Back on L.A. Ave, you know the Lennox strip Where they Henny sip Beef we let the semi rip [Chorus] Mind on my money, my money on mind Mind on my money, my money on mind Mind on my money, my money on mind You fuck wit Dip-Set, I will press on this .9 Mind on my money, my money on mind Mind on my money, my money on mind Mind on my money, my money on mind You fuck wit my paper, I'll press on this .9 [Verse 2] And yeah we world renowned (U.S.) And I might twirl thru town (uh huh) And in a Dip-Set mansion is where ya girl be found (hollaaa!) How can a pearl be drowned (yea) How can a diamond not shine (uh huh) Man I'm on my G mack I scoop up dimes all the time (bad bitches) They love my pimp juice (yeah) I let my crimps loose They get a glimpse, ooooooo Some went and cinch douche' Scoop her feed her feed her shrimp soup (that's right) Mind fuck her, brain fuck her mouth screw her 'til it hurt, uh, (then what?) shit She scream "Do me it hurt" (uh huh) Ill have her movin' that work I mean 2 of them chirps Up in her Dooney and Bourke (gettin' money) So ruthless it hurts I mean I'm truely bezerk When I scoop up my cash man, I swoop up and murk (errrrrrrrr!) Yea, a trick and a bag bitch (uh huh) 2 bricks and a bad bitch Shit, them bitches mackin' (they love me) I'm as sick as maggot (rite) But I don't fuck wit no bitch if she ain't worth no chips or no cabbage [Chorus] [Verse 3] I'm so problematic (yeah) And do to servin' Harlem-matics (damn) My fame and fortune still revolve wit' static (that beef) Still involve wit' savage types that move drugs 365 all around set every nite (perrico) I ain't the passive type (nope) On the benches where I crashed them nites (movin') Blowin' hemp, movin' slabs of white (hustlin') Spend days up in court How I shaved weight to snort Give that to the press or Dave Mays in the source (suttin to read about) Yes, since success it has changed Since we, stepped up in this game and stepped up wit' our game (ballin') No more chef cuttin' cain Hoes X'd up in they brain Lemme sex up in the Range So much princess cuts in my chains (Bling!) [Chorus] |
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