Tag: Rich Porter


Busta Rhymes – Czar Lyrics (feat. M.o.p)


There ain’t no place in the world
Where Busta Rhymes ain’t the baddest motherf*cker
You understand?
Do you understand who this man is?
Do you understand how hard he brings it? (Hard he brings it)
Nobody’s followin’ this motherf*cker, nobody!

Look, bitch, it’s my city, you get smacked silly
Thought it was yours, gimme
Prepared to shut shit down, nigga, f*ck with me
Jail music for riots, gangstas buck fifty
f*ck the place up ’til I turn a hundred and sixty
Now I’m here to switch it up, motherf*ckin’ lift it up
Get you niggas drunk ’til you lay in your bed and piss it up
Now I’m back with the coke, it’ll make you all sniff it up
And skrrt, skrrt in the Wraith, watch me Tokyo Drift it up
Take this loss, all day sauce
(Take chains off (Uh), everything off (Uh))
Take it all in her mouth and make the stray cough
Cocaine boss, all day floss
Foul niggas know we on the ground and we live it up
And drown cases of Goose ’til I frown and we spit it up
Got us running through it, got a hundred, stupid
Now we ’bout to lose it, y’all don’t wanna do it
Watch the way we mix it up, hit the way we fix it up
Anyway, shawty get on her knees and now she licks it up
Red carpet swag on a nigga when they flick shit up
Rich Porter prices on the coke, you see the bricks is up

So far, shawties throw they bra
And I need the lighter to light the perfect cigar
Brand new jet (Jet), brand new car (Car)
Leader of the new shit, brand new Czar (Czar)

Light switch off (Oh), Cuban link cross (Oh)
It shine, bright up the evening, diamonds criss-cross (Oh)

If you ain’t out here to find it, time to get lost
In case you niggas ain’t know

Bitch, I get busy
Like a silverback grizzly, rolled up some more sticky
Every hood to every block, brought them all with me
So much smoke, they nicknamin’ the flow chimney
Bag full of franks, every federal known crispy
The great Bust’ Rhymes, you’re with a few dimes
Just spoke your name up, you gon’ live a long time
So when we in this bitch, most you niggas get no shine
Invalid niggas (f*ck ’em), stop beggin’ for co-signs
Now this be the douches to have ’em black and make ’em do
Shit, bending they back up until it f*ckin’ break in two
Better call a medic (Oh), you know my whole aesthetic (Oh)
Energy kinetic (Oh), you better clear the exit (Oh)
Light switch on (Oh), f*ck shit up ’til everyone in this bitch gone (Oh)
Launch grenade bombs (Oh)
Spit that venom to break up your legs and both arms (Oh)
Volcanic eruption, we tell ’em, "Remain calm"
Heavy metal like Metallica, now witness the massacre
Somebody should’ve told them niggas they shouldn’t come after ya
Feed the planet the cook up, international trafficker
Now pull up with the sprinters ’cause all of my bitches passengers

So far, shawties throw they bra
And I need the lighter to light the perfect cigar
Brand new jet (Jet), brand new car (Car)
Leader of the new shit, brand new Czar (Czar)

Light switch off (Oh), Cuban link cross (Oh)
It shine, bright up the evening, diamonds criss-cross (Oh)
If you ain’t out here to find it, time to get lost
In case you niggas ain’t know


Jim Jones – Eastside

November 2, 2016

Lyrics

Comments Off on Jim Jones – Eastside


[Intro: Dave East]
Capo I got these niggas
Harlem you know how that go
Eastside

[Verse 1: Dave East]
Revenge is only natural, time to get even
We pick and roll, when the cold time to switch seasons
Trip to Belize, 100 keys’ll leave your kids bleeding
Balmain sweatsuit, tryna hide it, the grip peaking
Came from a hole in the wall, crack in the concrete
I want Giuseppes, not no Lebron sneaks, my palm trees
Cash in my future days, thinking about my past life
Model bitch’ll blow me like a bagpipe
19 they said I was a criminal, I just didn’t get caught yet
Think I got a warrant out cause I ain’t been to court yet
30 bricks’ll have you paranoid just like raw sex
Used to do Gortex, come to Harlem, we all fresh
Capo told me these niggas is in denial
Forgot what river we left his body, think it’s the Nile
Tom Ford flight jacket, prices ain’t coming down
Cook and smoke on them trips, turnpike with a couple pounds
[Hook: Jim Jones + Dave East]
Chill, chill, chill, you making it hot
My whole block got indicted, they just raided the spot
I just woke up in the kitchen, I was scraping the pot
I got it from my plug and took it straight to the block
Chill, I heard they confiscated the trap
They said the feds was on his ass when he was making a trap
They gave the nigga 10, I hope he make it up top
They said the nigga turned Muslim, now he making salat, chill

[Verse 2: Jim Jones]
It’s a queen B in the Supreme J’s
Cross (?) where the fiends play
Uptown, Rucker park, I seen Kareem play
I’m talking Big’s verse one is where I seen Jay
The Lord knows he put me where Rich Porter at
I sold drugs from as far as where Florida at
And when the coke was bad I still brought it back
I had the fiends losing weight just like a (?)
L’s copped the white Spur that I just bought in black
I took the rental down south, I never brought it back
I’m calling plays in the field like a quarterback
The feds setting up a blitz but I sold the trap
In Harlem in foreigns I still ride blunted
The (?) was that I lost, that was 500
I stayed fresh, I keep the hammer between
The belt with the jacket, Alexander McQueen
I’m hopping out the back but they handle is mean
I used to dribble but I still gotta handle this mean
Shit, give me a stove, show me a pot, let me work
Bitch I’m not a preacher but Lord knows this is church

[Hook: Jim Jones + Dave East]
Chill, chill, chill, you making it hot
My whole block got indicted, they just raided the spot
I just woke up in the kitchen, I was scraping the pot
I got it from my plug and took it straight to the block
Chill, I heard they confiscated the trap
They said the feds was on his ass when he was making a trap
They gave the nigga 10, I hope he make it up top
They said the nigga turned Muslim, now he making salat, chill

[Outro]
Step 5. We admit it to our higher power, to ourselves, and to another human being, the exact nature of our wrongs

Crack, crack, everywhere you go, crack, you don’t hear no dope hardly. You don’t hear no coke anymore hardly the only thing you hear, crack-crack


Jim Jones – Eastside Lyrics

November 1, 2016

Lyrics

Comments Off on Jim Jones – Eastside Lyrics


[Intro: Dave East]
Capo I got these niggas
Harlem you know how that go
Eastside

[Verse 1: Dave East]
Revenge is only natural, time to get even
We pick and roll, when the cold time to switch seasons
Trip to Belize, 100 keys’ll leave your kids bleeding
Balmain sweatsuit, tryna hide it, the grip peaking
Came from a hole in the wall, crack in the concrete
I want Giuseppes, not no Lebron sneaks, my palm trees
Cash in my future days, thinking about my past life
Model bitch’ll blow me like a bagpipe
19 they said I was a criminal, I just didn’t get caught yet
Think I got a warrant out cause I ain’t been to court yet
30 bricks’ll have you paranoid just like raw sex
Used to do Gortex, come to Harlem, we all fresh
Capo told me these niggas is in denial
Forgot what river we left his body, think it’s the Nile
Tom Ford flight jacket, prices ain’t coming down
Cook and smoke on them trips, turnpike with a couple pounds
[Hook: Jim Jones + Dave East]
Chill, chill, chill, you making it hot
My whole block got indicted, they just raided the spot
I just woke up in the kitchen, I was scraping the pot
I got it from my plug and took it straight to the block
Chill, I heard they confiscated the trap
They said the feds was on his ass when he was making a trap
They gave the nigga 10, I hope he make it up top
They said the nigga turned Muslim, now he making salat, chill

[Verse 2: Jim Jones]
It’s a queen B in the Supreme J’s
Cross (?) where the fiends play
Uptown, Rucker park, I seen Kareem play
I’m talking Big’s verse one is where I seen Jay
The Lord knows he put me where Rich Porter at
I sold drugs from as far as where Florida at
And when the coke was bad I still brought it back
I had the fiends losing weight just like a (?)
L’s copped the white Spur that I just bought in black
I took the rental down south, I never brought it back
I’m calling plays in the field like a quarterback
The feds setting up a blitz but I sold the trap
In Harlem in foreigns I still ride blunted
The (?) was that I lost, that was 500
I stayed fresh, I keep the hammer between
The belt with the jacket, Alexander McQueen
I’m hopping out the back but they handle is mean
I used to dribble but I still gotta handle this mean
Shit, give me a stove, show me a pot, let me work
Bitch I’m not a preacher but Lord knows this is church

[Hook: Jim Jones + Dave East]
Chill, chill, chill, you making it hot
My whole block got indicted, they just raided the spot
I just woke up in the kitchen, I was scraping the pot
I got it from my plug and took it straight to the block
Chill, I heard they confiscated the trap
They said the feds was on his ass when he was making a trap
They gave the nigga 10, I hope he make it up top
They said the nigga turned Muslim, now he making salat, chill

[Outro]
Step 5. We admit it to our higher power, to ourselves, and to another human being, the exact nature of our wrongs

Crack, crack, everywhere you go, crack, you don’t hear no dope hardly. You don’t hear no coke anymore hardly the only thing you hear, crack-crack