Jim Jones - Shotgun Fire текст песни

[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
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 (LAX!)
Back on LA 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 (US)
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]