..Killa, Jones, Jones, Let's Go
|
|
[Cam'Ron]
|
Clowns don't come around, pound pounds i pump in town
|
Do like House of Pain, Kriss Kross, jump around
|
Jumpin' down, stuntin style, over those I polly
|
Then merk-o from squalie, ducati and Roberto Cavali mami
|
We feelin' them scoobies, you stealin' them gucci's booby
|
Get it right, its Emilio Pucci, hoochie (hoochie)
|
Write for sci-fi, i'll be pipin' five pies, the cat went like the nine lives
|
Ten halves, five pies, ten cars, five drives, ten bars, fi-fi
|
That's fifty-five thou, sha-na-na, bye bye
|
My fitted's touched tailored, joined by Chuck Taylors
|
On the yacht with glocks, we sum thug sailors
|
You drinkin' old gold, rockin that old gold
|
We in rose gold, at the Rose Bowl
|
Send you a bowl of roses, we dun sold souls
|
Slow toes, im so cold, my dough folds
|
Killa!
|
|
[Chorus: Jim]
|
So get your parachute, and row your boat nigga
|
Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high
|
We fly high, like bo! Bo! bo!
|
Now your row your boat nigga, and get your parachute
|
Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high
|
Bo! Bo! and fly high like Bo! Bo!
|
|
[Jim]
|
So on this road to success, I grew up in the boat o'y'all
|
Gettin closed by the jets
|
I learned my code from the set, I took my oath to the death
|
I risked the quarter to bing, I bet this forty a ring
|
Cams from the 40th wing, the westside of harlem
|
And rat roach infested, them black po's in vests's
|
They stack most impressive, ride through Tana's town
|
Thats where them grams be found, breeze through the broadway side
|
And where they always reside, and so much raw yay, You know all them boys be outside
|
With them sirens and guns, all the noise be outside, And yes we scour the slums
|
You know our toys be outside, co-co boy to ride, Five-hundred thou on the block
|
the ones when we ride on the block, pumpin them bow's for the rocks
|
Look i came up from that, cookin' that came from crack
|
New boys shinin' man, New York's ryder man, look how I got'em Damn!
|
|
|
[Chorus: Jim]
|
So get your parachute, and row your boat nigga
|
Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high
|
We fly high, like bo! Bo! bo!
|
Now your row your boat nigga, and get your parachute
|
Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high
|
Bo! Bo! and fly high like Bo! Bo!
|
|
|
[Juelz Santana]
|
I'm a, boy shotta, born poppa, y'all liars, y'all notta
|
I squeeze more fire, call coppers
|
Hear that, pumper squeeze, yeah that, pumper be
|
Shoved in your mouth for talkin' all the fuck-a-ree
|
We move with the toon boy, we shoot'em and move boy
|
Yes you could say we are the Rudest of rude boys
|
Move that, do that, juke that girl, who dat who dat who dat girl
|
I wanna meet her, i wanna see her, i wanna skeet skeet
|
I wanna juice that girl
|
Grippin good, pimpin good, livin' good, shit is good, test me, lets see
|
I wish a nigga would (aye)
|
Y'all kids is a waste, when i spark clips is a waste
|
When alcoholics spit in your face, quick get a tatse
|
Nigga i ride, how i drive, how i fly, high sky, ha ha ha im hot
|
So high, so fly, float by, oh why, oh my, and i dont know why
|
Whoaa...
|
|
|
[Chorus: Jim]
|
So get your parachute, and row your boat nigga
|
Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high
|
We fly high, like bo! Bo! bo!
|
Now your row your boat nigga, and get your parachute
|
Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high
|
Bo! Bo! and fly high like Bo! Bo!
|
|
-----------------
|
Jamaican Joint [Feat. Cam'Ron and Juelz]
|
| The Diplomats |
