Jim Jones, Hell Rell - Pour Wax lyrics
[Jim Jones, Hell Rell - Pour Wax lyrics]
You're reign on the top
Short like Leprechauns
I came through in drops
Porches and heavy charms
I came from the block, the slums wit ex-con's
And we aimin' them Glocks of
Course ready to bomb
Now I done seen a Custy' cop
Four pies of the same gear
Also seen a nigga cop four
Rides in the same year
This concrete jungle, no trees to swing from
This weed and gettin drunk
And heaters gettin dumped
Hit the highway nigga ki's up in the trunk
Back up in the city with
Some skeezas in the trunk
I ain't a player but I do my dirt dog
Drop top 'Cedes better move when it merk off
It got me swingin to the left lane
Plus a nigga caughin cause the
Haze give me chest pain
Yes motha fucka the boys is back
With my vest and I'm tucked up
With my boys in back
You don't want it with them niggas
While you niggas steady bitching
My niggas gettin' richer
You mad cause we ballin'
Bet you mad cause we scorin
If he get out of line put
His punk ass in a coffin
Nigga we a ragime, Byrdgang we the truth
Keep a foriegn sedan or swirvin' in the coupe
Oakwood in the interior, swade on the roof
Now shoot, Bang, Bang shoot Bang, Bang
Aw man Hell Rell
He on the same bullshit agiain
Same black hoodyYup, same fo' fifth again
Bithes stopped likin' me but now
They on my dick again
Seen me in the Ashton with my glistinin'
Yea I'm bustin off the chrome
Yea I'm 'bout to off your dome
Kill the mother and the father
Kids go to foster homes
Yea I like to floss the chrome
Nigga leave the boss alone
See my neck and my wrist
I'm rockin' what it costs for homes
Homie they don't call me ruger for nothing
Back out on theese bitch niggas
Get that ruger to dumpin'
Don't run up on me nigga you
Know I stay with it
G'd up from the beef and brock's
To the Oakland A's fitted
That's the bottom to the top
It's in the bottom of the pot
I got it white, I got it tan
It's either you copin' or you not
Nigga jets is pullin' off and
You stuck in the current
DIP, BG, fuck what you heard
We all strapped in the ride
I ain't talkin' like the elderly
Yac'ed when we drive like
A rollin fuckin' felony
Trapped to survive, get the bucks
Sell them ki's it's hard to get by that's
Why we puff hell'a'weed
But if this high don't come down
I feal the world spinnin' like
The sky gon' come down
I need air top of the ride gon' come down
And i swear I stay fly when I jump out
Jewled up in ice like what that dude like
Spider four thirty with the blue'ish lights
Got the coupe bright, still shoot dice
For my niggas on the east
Side this is true life
Short like Leprechauns
I came through in drops
Porches and heavy charms
I came from the block, the slums wit ex-con's
And we aimin' them Glocks of
Course ready to bomb
Now I done seen a Custy' cop
Four pies of the same gear
Also seen a nigga cop four
Rides in the same year
This concrete jungle, no trees to swing from
This weed and gettin drunk
And heaters gettin dumped
Hit the highway nigga ki's up in the trunk
Back up in the city with
Some skeezas in the trunk
I ain't a player but I do my dirt dog
Drop top 'Cedes better move when it merk off
It got me swingin to the left lane
Plus a nigga caughin cause the
Haze give me chest pain
Yes motha fucka the boys is back
With my vest and I'm tucked up
With my boys in back
You don't want it with them niggas
While you niggas steady bitching
My niggas gettin' richer
You mad cause we ballin'
Bet you mad cause we scorin
If he get out of line put
His punk ass in a coffin
Nigga we a ragime, Byrdgang we the truth
Keep a foriegn sedan or swirvin' in the coupe
Oakwood in the interior, swade on the roof
Now shoot, Bang, Bang shoot Bang, Bang
Aw man Hell Rell
He on the same bullshit agiain
Same black hoodyYup, same fo' fifth again
Bithes stopped likin' me but now
They on my dick again
Seen me in the Ashton with my glistinin'
Yea I'm bustin off the chrome
Yea I'm 'bout to off your dome
Kill the mother and the father
Kids go to foster homes
Yea I like to floss the chrome
Nigga leave the boss alone
See my neck and my wrist
I'm rockin' what it costs for homes
Homie they don't call me ruger for nothing
Back out on theese bitch niggas
Get that ruger to dumpin'
Don't run up on me nigga you
Know I stay with it
G'd up from the beef and brock's
To the Oakland A's fitted
That's the bottom to the top
It's in the bottom of the pot
I got it white, I got it tan
It's either you copin' or you not
Nigga jets is pullin' off and
You stuck in the current
DIP, BG, fuck what you heard
We all strapped in the ride
I ain't talkin' like the elderly
Yac'ed when we drive like
A rollin fuckin' felony
Trapped to survive, get the bucks
Sell them ki's it's hard to get by that's
Why we puff hell'a'weed
But if this high don't come down
I feal the world spinnin' like
The sky gon' come down
I need air top of the ride gon' come down
And i swear I stay fly when I jump out
Jewled up in ice like what that dude like
Spider four thirty with the blue'ish lights
Got the coupe bright, still shoot dice
For my niggas on the east
Side this is true life