The headphones is on fire dis time around, Styles Blood Pressure Y'all just bear wit me Yo, last time I'ma tell these niggas, man Can't fuck around, man Jada, man Whoever Old nigga, new nigga Wha!! Yo, yo, yo...
Verse 1: Jadakiss
Who really da best rapper since B.I.G. ain't here Y'all know da answer to dat when Kiss ain't here When you see me, don't ask me nothin about us And don't definatly ask me nothin about... Fuck it You owe me one, I owe you two I woulda smacked you wit da burner, but I know you'd sue And I ain't talkin to him I'm talkin to you Matter of fact, I'm talkin to y'all Life is like walkin a yard Nigga'll stab you wit a fork in da heart And The Source got muthafuckas thinkin they hot Like my dope Got fiends thinkin they shot When you thinkin of da best, nigga Think of The Lox I'll cut ya fuckin hand off if ya pinky ring's hot Then come thru ya block in a sticky green drop Hop out Let off fifty-three shots Wouldn't care if I hit fifty-three cops Guliani might as well be merkin niggas Cuz the time that he givin out is hurtin niggas And all these record label's jerkin niggas And you never was a thug, you's a workin nigga And you heard that shit right there? I started that Don't make me put somethin up in ya Starter hat No matter who you are, or where you from Screw all of dat I'm not tryin to hear dat, son
Now, who da fuck y'all want? (Jadakiss!!) And who da fuck y'all need? (Jadakiss!!) And who da fuck gon' bleed? All y'all hataz, cuz none of y'all niggas (can't fuck wit Jada!!)
Verse 2: Jadakiss
Don't you be dat clown nigga in da back of da whip That's gon' get the second half of da clip And all I'm sayin, it'll be da other nigga in the front of the da whip Runnin his lip, wit a gun on his hip Feel me dawg? Everybody walk da walk 'til they run into Kiss Then, they get stabbed, or hung, or stung wit da fifth How you think ya man hard when son on my dick? Cuz I can get his ass body, plus front him a brick Got a chick named Super-head She give super-head Just moved in the buildin, even gave the super head I cop big guns that spit super lead So, play Superman, end up super dead Call ne Kiss, or da kid from The Lox That'll twist ya moms out and do a bid wit ya pops We was in jail, you probably won't get no mail And if you pumped on my block, you won't get no sales When ya CEO know you can't fuck wit I I make a million by June I'm sayin fuck July And I beg you to try me while I'm holdin da Tommy I'ma have ya body all over da lobby I already helped y'all I'm about to melt y'all Tell the truth, dawg I ain't never felt y'all This album, we gon' bubble like Seltzer If it ain't Double R, who da hell else is hard?!
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