| Disc 1 | ||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1. |
| 3:38 | 
|
|||
|
[Un Casa + (Cam'Ron)]
Killa what's really good my nigga (Un Casa what's really good) What's really good flee Yo, what's really good I got ta get on this album I just signed ta Diplomat yesterday what's really good (I mean, I mean the album is done I mean You know you on the next joint you on my album I mean what's really good I mean you good you know) But naw but what's really good I'm in the studio now It's a beat out there its fire what's really good I need ta get on this album I can't be late man what you mean (I can't, I mean I turned the album in Cas what you really want me ta do) Naw call that nigga Dame Tell him its another joint man what's really good Dame what's really good man Call him right now what's really good what's really good (You know what I'ma put the beat up cause you did sign yesterday I'ma put you on before we even get the album started It better be fire I mean what's really good) What's really good you know I got that PIFF What's really really really really really good (Ayo Guru put something up matta fact) What's really good (Ayo, Guru you got tha beat up) Dipset (Good, ayo) Taliban bitch (I got tha beat up) Killa (You better spit too man) Casa I'm in here man (you made me go through all this shit mother fucker you better spit that shit Diplomats Jim Jones Santana Freekey Ayo Brazzy what's really good) [Un Casa] It's a shame how I rap so bananas It's Mr. Two-Gun Un Mother fuckers better cock back them hammers You might catch in the drop blowin pop wit Santana The hawk on me's not from Atlanta It's just the father to the glocks in the hamper Look in the rear view the cops in the camera I flow hot like blocks down in Tampa And leave you dead pop shot from them glammers And go down south and rock wit them bamas And come back in the Porsche color hot banana Vanilla coat seats piper made by Tropicana Speakers do the wop rims do the Macerana This is Taliban Dipset Rocafella It ain't nuthin for Two-Gun ta pop a fella Killa signed me now I got the mozerella I promised Hell Rell Un Cas gone rock forever [Un Casa + (Cam'Ron)] What's really good flee what's really good (Aiight flee I mean that, that that's what's really good I can't front) Well what's really good can I finish (I mean I mean what's really good hold up Two-Gun I'ma let you finish I mean What's really really good now) What's really good (I mean What's really good) What's really good (I mean you did your thing I'm wit you what's really good Lets finish up let's right what's really good) [Un Casa] Yo I'm living in tha equinox Niggaz eat wit glocks Enough steel it'll cease the block Add yeast to increase the rock I got knowledge that can teach my pops Watch my pockets increase ta knots Play the low so I speak ta cops Walk the beat in my bop an my beef and brocs Ice in my piece an watch Ain't too many niggaz that can reach the top Or speak this hot Peep this pop I leave you not I rhyme over beats wit the meanest drops And teens'll flock Seen my spot an seen my props Red when you seen the cops Got your wife suckin siemen cock I'ma Taliban lyrical monster They'll shout the city I conqour White Ice cinnamin Parker Al Quiada's most vividest author Hundered thou just ta glitter the charm up 45th sides prettiest monster The truck look like the city of Tonka Dame here ta say this nigga is bonkers Whoa far as tha flow I'm the realest nigga spittin it Niggaz talk hustle game but I'm really gettin it Anything I want an need nigga I'm gettin it 745 Gucci top wit tha stick in it The ice is so clear like the shit fishes swimmin in I ain't Diddy y'all but I'm strictly for the benjamins I'm tha boss I ain't dealin wit you middle men Bout ta cop a Yukon white made in cinnamin [Un Casa + (Cam'Ron)] Niggaz get ya'll fuckin car game up (Diplomats that's what's really fuckin good) |
||||||
| 2. |
| 0:57 |
|
|||
|
[Chorus: x2]
Uh-oh, it's Santana the Great, oh Uh-oh, it's Santana the Great, oh Uh-oh, it's Santana the Great, oh Bandanna his face, blam, hammer escape, oh Uh-oh, it's Santana the Great, oh Uh-oh, it's Santana the Great, oh Uh-oh, it's Santana the Great, oh Holla at your boy, oh, holla at your [Juelz Santana] Why yall know what crack sound like homie Or what the mac sound like when it's strapped on me, please back off me Before this mac that's strapped on me, gets snatched off me Cocked back used to crash your homies, oh Why yall can't fuck with me man, I guarantee man It's Santana the rap +He-man+ Why yall skeltors get your melons torched when this weapon sart letting off Santana no, don't hurt 'em, don't squirt 'em Don't let the nine burn 'em in the sternum They don't want to go to war with ya' They ain't ready to bang or go to war with ya' So leave 'em alone, don't feed 'em the chrome Why yall labels'll to stop watching me I tried to tell you before, I was ready, I was always hot property Now look, I'm Diplomat slash ROC property Stash rocks probably, fucker, you're not stopping me [Chorus: x2] [Juelz Santana] I'm so, gangsta, it's no one just like me Smooth thug, will Pretty Tony your wifey So you better keep your bitch away Cause I will get her number, call her up, make her my bitch today Why yall can't fuck with the "Great" Santana, bandanna give in clips and weight Hammers will split your face, shift your waist, to a different place Next thing you know, I'm in a different state Back next month, new whip, different plate Damn, Santana delivery the raw Delivery the four, for sure man, I did it before So if your bitch is a whore, don't fight for her Don't waste your life for her, trying to make it right for her With all that frontin' your doin', and stuntin' you're doin' I'll shoot the bump while you moving and shut you from moving [Chorus] [Juelz Santana] Why yall niggas don't ride like I do Slide through in that 7-4-5 blue, right beside who? Killer Where Jones, in the pick-up truck Yeah we use that to pick up stuff, pick up bucks And my Denali is often parked, inside of my condo How much did he sign for? Oh, I bet you want to know that money Yeah I bet you I won't show that money I keep it stashed away, right next to the 4-4, money Keep a lo-pro money, this is slo-mo money I'm used to that fast crack, bag crack Re-cook bag that, give it out, half that If it still bags, have stacks No more running back to me, coming back to me I'm on the corner with a hundred packs of these Damn, oh, he got the purple [Chorus: x2] ------------- Lyrics Powered by LyricFind Written By GILES/THOMAS/GREEN/JAMES Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC |
||||||
| 3. |
| 4:19 |
|
|||
|
Uh-huh, Santana
I like that man, that bad-da-ba-ba, that's hot I like that, yeah who are you? Santana Shit is crazy man Y'all think niggaz don't cry? We do Yeah, man I gotta get my thoughts together, I be thinking a lot Light up a blunt, think of a rhyme sometimes too But it's like yo... zone out [Juelz Santana] The time is now, my grind is here shit My body is focused, my mind's in gear, let's start it I'm moving at an unstoppable pace, I managed to reach the top of the race Before it started damn, cold-hearted man Rip apart your man, for that green dollar Plain reppin' my target, stay and holla Shoot and move from where ever my targets land Damn, shit, I see ghosts when I sleep It's really, I got to wake up, just to know I was sleep Holding the heat, cold sweat all over my sheet That's why I paint the most vividest pictures My niggaz my bitches in the same position I live in No oil and hot water, just boiling hot water Cooking coke, to the oil and hot water, shit But Who Am I [ad libs] [Juelz Santana] I lived the life of a loner, with a righteous persona But still sold crack right on the corner My life consist of, a big puzzle that's mixed up Big bucks, big drugs, if I get caught, then it's big cuffs Big bailor gets up, I get out, shit what, this shit sucks I need to find another road to follow One that's new and strong, not old and hollow As I hold this bottle and smoke this reefeer Listening to some old Aaliyah, I say, damn... And a tear comes trimbling down Never seen a man cry, well you witness it now Shit, this isn't game from the heart, this pain from the heart This is for you Dame, it came from the heart, so [ad libs] [Juelz Santana] Momma, I just want you to know I'm in love with you so, if you wasn't here I'd be in love with you soul My angel, mommy I'd die faithful Just knowing somone tried to violate you I'll slide 8ths through the side of their facial Squeeze and rip apart a side of their facial I'd take a slug, eat a bullet, swallow a gun Shit, you gotta know I'm your son Damn, this type of love, could only come from a son Hold up mommy, I'm twisted I'm drunk...listen [ad libs] [Juelz Santana] Yeah, but it's more then the liquor and weed Yeah it's more then the liquor in me Shit, I gotta get it together I was falling off, with drunk words and sober thoughts So, I'm still speaking the truth And what I'm still speaking is truth, this is your younger sons speaking to you [ad libs to fade] |
||||||
| 4. |
| 5:14 |
|
|||
|
Yeah Y'all know what this is we back at it (uh huh) Come on It's that nine eleven music right here man We in the building man Welcome to ground zero everybody Juelz Santana Dipset Hell Rell [Juelz Santana] Yo, yo I speak pain, I spit power, talk courage, breathe flowers Follow me thru the debri of these towers, the rain, the sleet, the street showers Don't get caught up when the street showers When the guns rain, the clips pour, the soldiers grip fours, then begin war Come on, it's Santana the Great Tie 'em up, bandana his face, hammer his face, fucker I'm trying to get my act together, in the booth now trying to get my rap together You know, I got to fire to heat the street up Abuse the track, and beat the beat up you know? You already know what I'm about homie I'm young I'm focused I'm just coming out homie You can go by what you hear through word of mouth homie Or step out of line, Cam betting the house on me You know I ain't stopping yet You know my album ain't done, it ain't dropping yet I'm in the mist of a bidding war And we need two milli more just to move in the door, shit [Chorus] Yes the boys are back at it Come holler at us, the boys are back at it So line em up, shoot em down Do it know Welcome to ground zero Tell 'em it's ground zero Line em up, shoot em down Do it know Welcome to ground zero Tell 'em it's ground zero Yes the boys are back at it Come holler at us, the boys are back at it [Cam'Ron] Killa, yo, these girls told you I'm the man right? (right?) Well listen to lover When I beef, visions are gutter Kids clapping, kidnappings, heard her missing a brother I'm hitting your sister, you kissing your mother The shit is disguster Underground with people, lethal, trapped in the desert, surrounded by evil Yeah, I see your bitch is impressed, my kicks is all fresh This shit on my chest, by Mitchell and S. I got her opened, hoping she's not, I'd have her crack in her tits, coke in her twat Have her crack up the strip, coke up the block She'd get cracked up and hit, keep soaping your cycle mami My girls lay up in suites, a half of cake of week, and masturbate like Tweet Killa, I be popping the oozies, copping them Coogis, eyes on the drop real droopy Mair is snoopy, look at your hooptie, rocking the rubies Hop in the hoochie, popping her coochie Chill while I'm chasing millions I'm a baller that would merk you like Jason Williams (uh Huh) Don't play with villas', vacate the building Or the eights will come and rape your children Yeah, it's a kilo to a milligram I'm still the man, word to Killa Cam (Killa Cam) [Chorus] Yes the boys are back at it Come holler at us, the boys are back at it So line em up, shoot em down Do it know Welcome to ground zero Tell 'em it's ground zero Line em up, shoot em down Do it know Welcome to ground zero Tell 'em it's ground zero Yes the boys are back at it Come holler at us, the boys are back at it [Jimmy Jones] Two of my cards and crooks slashed at two of my pawns and rooks For all the charms they took To my head of security, british the titan, clicking the fifth, and gripping it tight God dammit, not to mention my bishop and knights, I listen to Bridgette to White Makin' crucial trips through the night (highways) And Prince Juelz, I told you ever since Juelz If them faggets even flinch Juelz (bluuuuatttt) My dogs are gonna it 'em alive Forty-fours, the pleading, deleting they lives (come on) And Killa wallys leading the movement, for realla we wouldn't be in this movement Over him I might kill ya (kill ya) Be in a tomb, just facing my time Loyal on side, outside spoiler on rides, system bumping, bumping "oh boy" in the ride Oh boy I done slide, shit, he done came got his boy, he's ashamed at his boy Had to flame at a boy, over the name we employed Which is none other than Dip Set, for ya'll dumb motherfuckers (holla) [Chorus] Killa the Don, Freaky, Juelz Santana, BK, Harlem (whoo) Hell Rell, the whole Taliban, Dip Set, T. Money, Luca |
||||||
| 5. |
| 1:28 | 
|
|||
| 6. |
| 3:47 |
|
|||
| 7. |
| 0:45 |
|
|||
| 8. |
| 4:08 |
|
|||
|
[Juelz Santana]
Yo I try to be easy I try to be calm breathe easy, it don't seem easy I'm on my Ps and Qs, Ys and Zs, .45 on the side of me Plus, four guys on the side of me, with .45 on the side of them We can play now, this is a war not a playground We came here to lay or get laid down, spray or get sprayed down Wills for us anyday now, cops with their wall to wall raids down I'm ducking and weaving, running and leaving Not trying to feel the cuffs when they squeezing Or the plugger they stuck to Lumina So I'm stuck with this nina, I'm stuck with this finger Itchy as fuck, you're fucked if I leave ya chump Went to school, but ain't stay in class, hated class Only for period, yep, I could relate to math Played games, but the games was bad You know, cops and robbers, laser tag, see what I was aiming at Hop scotching on niggaz faces kept my ankles bad That ain't stop me from working I got me a worker Gotta him to work, and yeah, chopping the work up Keep him on my clock, clocking my work up, niggaz know me Taught him how to cook, livin his work up Told him it's not the pot, it's the worker, gotta mix shorty Gotta do it like this shorty Clockwise, counter-clockwise, it's all in the wrist shorty Fuck with me [Chorus] This is a movement, this is a union This is more then what you people call music I'm part of this Dip Set confusing Tecs we moving, catch up, y'all losing Y'all ain't big enough to be at the table, nope Y'all ain't big enough to eat at the table, nope This is powdeful music that I bring to the table The sequal of Able, fuck with your boy [Juelz Santana] You motherfuckers really don't know You motherfuckers really wont know I'm real fucka, I really wont fold I kill fuckas and wheelie off roads Bangie rapper, like I'm really off road The pain I feel, I really wont show man The game is real, I really don't know Cam If I'ma make it or not But my plan was to take it straight to the top Bring my fame to the block, with me Harlem's my home, so I'm making it hot with me 'Til the day I'm layed on the block, with shots in me Stay weeded, stay cheifing a blunt Stay losing some more pounds, I ain't eating enough, nope Stop fronting homes, you wont do nothing homes Killa locked this, I'm what's up and coming homes You better believe, one thing I was always taught in my household you better achieve No matter what you do, you better succeed That was embedded in me, yeah, the rest was left up to me So I, played my position, I stayed in the kitchen Base tripping on the bottom of the plate when I'm mixing Cake whipping on the bottom of the plate when I left it Eight digits when I take it, break it and flip it This is the Matrix, I take it we live in Shit, I'm seeing the sun, I'm Neo the one, believe me Hand picked like cotton, I've been sent here not to be forgotten My hands grip the dots in, I get ya poppin' Shoot shit, shit is poppin' Move bricks get it rocking, y'all know me Ya young homie from the block, y'all forgot me already? Holla back, the young Rocky is ready whoa! [Chorus] This is a movement, this is a union This is more then what you people call music I'm part of this Dip Set confusing Tecs we moving, catch up, y'all losing Y'all ain't big enough to be at the table, nope Y'all ain't big enough to eat at the table, nope This is powdeful music that I bring to the table The sequal of Able, fuck with your boy |
||||||
| 9. |
| 4:40 |
|
|||
|
My homey Cash, well he gone for five Send my prayers, do your thing, I'll be going for mine Shit, we live life to the fullest Three hundred and sixty five nights on the strike, that's a bullet Shit, and uncle Ricky got a month and some change And it feels like the garbage truck just dumping the pain All on my shoulders, I'm warning my soldiers The nights could get chilly, but the morning's much colder I've seen summers get cold And niggaz do it up until the point they done and the fold They can't succumb to the cold Those of frostbitten, up north sitting, just like some fucking lost kittens They get locked up for carrying boy Doing time underground up in Marion, boy Shit, I respect you You do your time like Gotti, and come home like that Marion boy [Chorus: Cam'Ron + Jim Jones - repeat 2X] You got weed? Smoke it, You got dice? Roll it You got guns? Shoot it, You got a ho? Stroke it You got money? Spend it, You got cars? Whip 'em You caught a bid? Do it, You got kids? Love 'em, hug 'em [Jim Jones] I gotta keep striving, I gotta keep moving, I gotta keep grinding If this was the road, and I was a trucker, then shit man, I gotta keep driving Through the lies and deception, had to ride through neglection I'm an insomniac, up all night, pops and moms was an addict, shit My puffing scums is a habit I need me a contingency plan, my pops with the syringe in his hand He was leaning and nodding Uncle Ricky your mission is like Afeni was Robin Shit, you should've seen the apartment All I ever wanted was franks and beans I was starving Crack fiends on the carpet, shit But if it wasn't for grandma I swear I'm in love with my grandma That's why I only does it for grandma That's when I roll in the street I pray she covers me from the crown of my head, to the sole of my feet [Chorus] [Cam'Ron] I figured its means as a minor, huh Look at the foods ad fibers The dude with the cubes will snipe ya More tools then snider Exclusive writer The jewels are fire I learned don't fool with rider from pop I don't need a gun, just a screwdriver Two tires, two pliers, a wrench and a few wires, shit I take it all from the buyers Bonfire, all from a lighter, call me "Macgyver" Need a rehab I'll call up Shania Bitch hungry, good, we gonna stall in papaya Take your recession special, yeah you less then special Me and Jim Jones, extra special Check it, Dre to Snoop, Gotti to Ja Dame to Jigga, Puff to Big, D n' Y Doggy you next up, get your respect up Or a vest can't protect you when I hit you in your chest, duck The big heads done pushed me You gotta be sex: dickheads is pussy, killa I bring the hammers to the gunfight One night stand, only standing for one night Doggy, cause when it come to that cash No homo, I will jump in that ass, jump and I flash Then jump in that jag, jumpsuit Jump back from the coroner, I have you jump in that bag Come with that cash [Chorus] |
||||||
| 10. |
| 4:09 |
|
|||
|
Oh, come on, fuck with your boy It's Santana, Heatmakers, where we at? Let me see you through this Killa, Jones, Freakay Yeah man, I'm back at it Today's a new day, got the boo-lay up in the suitcase Go uptown to Harlem, tell 'em that I sent ya Tell 'em it's August, I'm "Gon' Til' November" I need a couple birds, get a broad, have 'em sent up Call my bird, get my broad have her sent up (Please) Call my niggaz, call my squad, have 'em sent up (Please) I see a town I'm likin' See some niggas getting money in a town I like it I run up on them with the pound and light it Like it's my block now, all right kid? He understood me quite clear Then that thing banged out, ranged out the side of his right ear And I got back to my business, back to my bitches Back to the kitchen, that pyrex vision Pop, I let that white stuff sit in Get hard, get rock, get to the block and pitchin' Yeah I'm sorry but this is how I'm livin And this is how I'm getting, fuck how I get it Hey! [Chorus: Juelz Santana] I stood alone watching the wall, in the zone, hand on my handles Listening to gangsta music I stood at home hand on a chrome, with a zone, flippin' the channels Watching how the gangstas do it I stood alone, getting dome, from a thick chick in sandles Watching Shaft, clocking math [Juelz Santana] Now I see death around the corner Gotta stay high, will I survive in the city where the skinny niggas die? Nope, it's the city where the skinny niggas ride .45 semi on the side, twisting when they drive, yeah Lick a shot for Big Pop and 'Pac, yeah One more for Shyne locked inside, yeah Two more for Cam, for taking over the Roc Yeah, yeah, it's my year So, okay, okay, okay, y'all can't fuck with me, no way Jose or Hector Camacho Tech blows and watch yo' chest close and tacos Motherfucker I'm the best, I told y'all before I should y'all before, ey! [Chorus: Juelz Santana] I stood alone watching the wall, in the zone, hand on my handles Listening to gangsta music I stood at home hand on a chrome, with a zone, flippin' the channels Watching how the gangstas do it I stood alone, getting dome, from a thick chick in sandles Watching Shaft, clocking math [Cam'Ron] I'm on the westside of Chicago, lookin' for a bust down And make me put my two arms up, Touchdown! You stay in touch now, but when I tough down I'm like Buckshot shorty, you better "Duck Down" Yeah I must clown, I'm from Harlem, Uptown Where we flash money, take your bitch and ask you, what now? Birds flip a dozen, chicks is dicks they suckin' Swallow my kids, go and kiss they cousin Yes, they kissing cousins, toys kissing muppets Worst then that, they go home and kiss they husband That shit's disgusting Keep the chickens clucking, keep the pigeons buggin' This on my wrist is nothing To me it's just yellow hearts and pink diamonds Where I get the money for this? Don't think rhymin' You fucking with Pablo, Bravo, Mario Via Bolo ho, Ta-to [Chorus: Juelz Santana] I stood alone watching the wall, in the zone, hand on my handles Listening to gangsta music I stood at home hand on a chrome, with a zone, flippin' the channels Watching how the gangstas do it I stood alone, getting dome, from a thick chick in sandles Watching Shaft, clocking math |
||||||
| 11. |
| 5:17 |
|
|||
|
Hey Ma, What' up, Let's slide, all right, all right
And we gon' get it on tonight You smoke, I smoke, I drink, me too, well good Cuz we gon' get high tonight Got drops, got coupes, got trucks, got jeeps, all right Cuz we gon take a ride tonight So ma, what's up, let's slide, all right, all right And we gon get it on tonight Yo, now I was downtown clubbin, ladies night Seen shorty she was crazy right And I approached baby like Ma what's your age and type? She looked at me and said you's a baby right I told her, I'm 18 and live a crazy life Plus I'll tell you what the 80's like And i know what the ladies like Need a man that's polite,listens,and takes advice I could be all three, plus I could lay the pipe Come wit me, come stay the night She looked at me laughin' , like boy your game is tight I'm laughin' back like sho' ya right Get in the car And don't touch nothing, sit in the car Let's discuss something Either we lovin or I'll see you tomorrow Now we speeding up the Westside Hand creepin' up her left side, I'm ready to do it Ready to bone, ready for dome 55th exit, damn, damn, already we home Now let's get it on Hey Ma, What' up, Let's slide, all right, all right And we gon' get it on tonight You smoke, I smoke, I drink, me too, well good Cuz we gon' get high tonight Got drops, got coupes, got trucks, got jeeps, all right Cuz we gon take a ride tonight So ma, what's up, let's slide, all right, all right And we gon get it on tonight Now that I got a girl, my ex wanna holla and spit Told me to acknowledge her quick She like Cam stop frontin' On that Dave Hollister Tip Come over lets swallow and sip I'm like momma that's it I promise you dick, usually have a problem with chicks They all say I'm rotten and rich But not her, Boo be's real High heel dooby feel, plus got them Gucci nails on You a cutie still, and this my down girl too Ain't no groupie deal We left the movies with Uzies,Suzuki wheels to the Jacuzzi, I tell you my Boo be's real I mean she do be winning,lose,spendin Go to the crib she got the Gucci linen' I see Boo be grinning She looked and said Cam, I know that you be sinning Naw, I'm a changed man, look at the range man I got a whole new game plan Looked and said that's nothing but game Cam She was right, she was up in the Range man Droped her off at the L, now I'm flippin' the cell That's right I had to call up L Yo L, what up, I hit, what else, plus dome, say word |
||||||
| 12. |
| 2:03 |
|
|||
| 13. |
| 4:06 |
|
|||
|
Yea.. Killa what we gettin ready to do is seperate the men from the mice,pit from the poodles, and the villians from the heroes huh, dipset bitch you kno what that means? you amongst the diplomat community this my man Hellrell, he locked up he bout to come home hit em Rell (Hellrell) By the time this shit touch the streets ill prolly be shackeled down on the bus wit beats but imma ride anyway get high anyway, and let my vvs jewels blind your eyes anyway fucker yall wanna be gangsta's listen to me after two years of teachin, you'll get your degree i took over blocks, and put dope on it, coke on it subbed niggas out and put them under my deodorant just like my speed stick nigga i see chips quicker so hot, tommorow im droppin a remix nigga and yea your top on your six go head drop that just makin it ways more easier to get popped nigga roll the haze, lets het higher and higher but G you sellin me coke, i supplier, supplier they ask bout the flow, yea its fire, its fire yall snitch niggas, yall was hired to be wired and thats my word fam, i swore to my mother i'd get you made a phone call, now im done wit the issue now all my gorillas gon come through and get you and murk off in a double nickle the color of pickles i got a serious pimp game i rock a sick chain toe the two tone rugger and roll wit da Dip game yall the type of niggas that will run from da rubble holla if yall want birds, i can front you a couple nigga 2x Chorus: Hellrell I stack chips, this is what i do run through divas, give them to my crew send work out of town, this is what i do be wit my niggas, this is what i do Verse2 Shorty thought i had plans of spou |
||||||
| 14. |
| 5:14 |
|
|||
|
Oh, come on, fuck with your boy It's Santana, Heatmakers, where we at? Let me see you through this Killa, Jones, Freakay Yeah man, I'm back at it Today's a new day, got the boo-lay up in the suitcase Go uptown to Harlem, tell 'em that I sent ya Tell 'em it's August, I'm |
||||||
| 15. |
| 1:46 |
|
|||
| Disc 2 | ||||||
| 1. |
| 4:22 |
|
|||
|
You see man Let's get off of that lame man Let's get into what we like to do man This what we do preferably man We bring that powerful music to your table man Killa, let 'em know something [Cam'Ron] Young Guru, Just Blaze, Killa, Diplomats, huh Juelz Santana, Jim Jones, Freaky Zekey Hoffa, Dash, huh, Killa, huh Ya'll niggas dreamed it, I have seen it Body warm, heart anemic (I really mean it) Coke, a nigga steamed it, fiends I leaned 'em Beemer leaned it (I really mean it) Guns, really beaming, rarely miss, what's really good? Bikes, wheelie and creamin' (I really mean it) I'm a genius, poppadopalis, never leaning On your Zenith (I really mean it) Killa, bury more mutts, they actually all ducks Caddy more trucks, its daddy Warbucks And you Orphan Annie Ma, take off your panties Sea soft and sandy (I really mean it) Yeah, let's get lost in candy I got lost in Boston, Austin, flossin' of course Miami Reno, Nevada sip pino colada Mama I'm seen on the Prada (I really mean it) I rock more in Phoenix road to glory Seen it, you seen it (I really mean it) The game abuse it, its pain in music But this year, wrist wear remains the bluest I get lame and lose it, beef came to do it Aim and shoot it, flames 'til your brains the fluid Ya'll just kids, see what I just did, take a couple bars off Let Just {Blaze} live [Jim Jones] Yeah, now that's powerful music man You need to pop something and roll something (I really mean it) Killa we did it man, I got your back forever, Dip Set (I really mean it) And them lames, we pop them sideways and drag them faggots (I really mean it) [Cam'Ron] Ok, we back in Mami listen (I really mean it) Hey yo lock my garage, rock my massage Fuck it, bucket by Osh Kosh Bgosh Golly I'm gully, look at his galoshes Gucci, gold, platinum plaque collages From collabos, ghost writing for assholes Want to use my brain, than give Killa mad dough It's all good, increase Killa cash flow Increase my fame, that's why Killa smash hoes You'll get side swiped, look at my life First movie ever, merked out Mekhi Phife And papi got jerked out of pies twice Dip Set, we working with five dice Cee-lo and craps, c-notes and stacks I send bodies with, read this note attached Ya youngin' fucked with boys in the hood Gave her a son like Ricky, from 'Boyz in the Hood' On the couch bloody, old lady sighing Wifey screaming (I really mean it) Pissy little baby crying Fuck upped man shit, there you seen it (I really mean it) Fam man, you terry cloth, that mean you very soft Gravy Mercedes, add the cranberry sauce [Jim Jones] Yeah, gangstas ride man, Flex we got you, guns up (I really mean it) And all my ladies man, the ghettos a diddy, I need you, I want you (I really mean it) Oh, pop something, roll something, get twisted, that's on Jim nigga (I really mean it) Harlem! Man we here to stay, it's nothing left to say man (I really mean it) Eastside, and as for that lame man, now see I ain't even gone say your last name Cuz that's mine, I catch you, you know what it is You faggot! I ain't gone get to hyped over you man, we gone bury you Holla! See if you bout it, bout it Cuz we is (I really mean it) NYC! |
||||||
| 2. |
| 3:22 |
|
|||
|
For lovin me girl Just wanna thank you Look at what you can do man Free I like this shit right here man Girl c'mon Let's do it like this Santana's so focused on you Come holla at a boy that's focused on you [Juelz Santana] Shorty I ain't tryin to give you the run around I'm just tryin to come get you a run around Skip through a couple towns Maybe skip through a couple rounds If your man act dumb I'ma shut him down I'm sorta a long distance brother Long checks,long chips, long dick and rubber Come roll with a pimp or gangsta Hustler by nature Trust that I'll take ya I'll show you the rules and perimeters Show you how to move with the ooze how to handle it Show you how to cut loose soon as we scramble it On the block as soon as the moon it be scramblin' And you can be my down ass bitch Yeah baby that's for sure I'm a show you how package raw How to snap it on How to take trips with the package on How to go and come back with the package gone Just stacks of cash beyond [Chorus: Juelz Freeway] And ya'll nigaz betta cuff ya girls Cuz Santana and Free is runnin up the girls (Yeah) No game just fuck your girls But who am I to corrupt the world? (Yeah) Give her pounds, give her pies, giver her cake (Yeah) Hit a city, hit a town, hit a state (Yeah) Every ghetto every hood we there Every metal in a Roc-A-Wear [Freeway] I been there every ghetto all around the world I've put that rock shit around ya girl and take down nigga I take pounds nigga, matter fact I take pounds to chicks Give 'em train tickets across the border Is you going or |
||||||
| 3. |
| 4:12 |
|
|||
|
People say my theories is backwards I tell them, sincerly, it's clearly, you hearing me backwrds I tell 'em I'm great, but still I need practice I tell them to wait, go and comeback quick, they don't understand me It's not logic, I'm not logic, I got problems I worship the late prophet, the great Muhammad Ali For the words that he spoke, that stung like a bee Soaked into me, you niggaz will see but I'm still insane, I'm Rodman, dealing my brain I'm grinding sharing my pain, fuck, where is the fame Niggaz, they still rhyming, still in the game They still dealing the cane, still cock shit in your brain, homie I still smell the rotten people that lay There in ground zero, forgotten, left in for days Probably left there to stay, left in decay Broken pieces of towers, left in their graves I pray they be saved, until then, that's just a suggestion I made Follow me homie, listen, I subjected my ways nigga Weapons that spray, at your fucking face nigga It's Santana the great, in the place niggaz, stay away nigga Cause I'm headed straight to the top, niggaz Diplomat Taliban slash ROC nigga Oh yeah, I do this for my block niggaz D train, Al Gator, pop niggaz Young drugs, young twins, Shiest bug Niggaz I love, my thugs Now, come fuck with your boy Jones, Killa, Freakay, come fuck with your boy, WHOA It's Santana again nigga, no bandanas just him nigga In the flesh, like [Cam'Ron] I seen it time, business and friendship Friendships ended, business attended, clips get extended Lawyers get called, accountants get faxed That was my man, well I wish that he meant it It's been a long time, hereing the mobsters This ain't overnight, it's years in the process Shed a tear in the process, now process is over All my niggaz get prepared for the Oscars Back to the block, sharing a lobster Morris Malone, Sam Malone, preparing the vodka, holla Hallejulah, no hum-du-allah, but respecting my Aki He held me down, when it was getting real rocky Hustling, isn't a hobby I sit in the lobby, look at my ovie, have visions of Gotti Visions of lotties, pictures of Blood, scenes of L I wanna see my son, piss in that potty Jimmy, I'm going to make sure your wrist is real rocky See my plans are for long term like Mr. Miyagi Wax on, wax off, put our wax on, take that wack off Over some nights, I had fights over the white The roads to the lows, I knows what it's like Now, career over like Mike: anyone Tyson, Jordan, Jackson, it's over This shit right here touched my soul, man My grandmother or something, 56 bless her soul Apartment 56 that is, 101, West 140th Rest In Peace Liddiah Giles, Blood Shed.. |
||||||
| 4. |
| 4:38 |
|
|||
|
Tito, crack that dutch Roll that purple up Niggaz slacking in their macking Simpin' in their pimpin' Glad I got you baby You the only one I can count on man You may crutch man, yo [Verse 1] We leaves spots milt, you get your top tilt Mop filled, my block leaves cops killed, duck shots still You not built, you had zirconia's, those was zirconia's I kept it spot built, I can ensemble linen Grinin' on rock, silk, I'm hitting bitches like switches I'm a top Wilt, that's Chamberlain, mama became a friend Said she had the lamest men, wanted to learn the game I win I had to game her then, you rearrange your friends Then you change that Benz, we need a Range with Rims She bought a gravy Rover, it had a pastry odor Yes she made the quota, cause I'm like Ray Liotta Fiends in a caskets, leaning them bastards But the meanest of fabrics, when I'm with Athena Onassis Or Ms. Trina, the queen of the asses Causes when it come to purple, I've seen it in masses [Cam - talking] Whoo! Tino, you almost finished? (This ain't purple neither Tito) This blunt almost out right here (I don't know what this is) I love you man (I'm not smoking this) Only thing I count on is you (Tito I want him, I don't want him) Tito just got the blunt, (Don't fuck with nothing else but you) I'm reloaded now, (God damn) (Tito roll me up another blunt, something ain't right with this) [Verse 2] And I'm a naissance child, gaming her stupid now Plus, I'm stupid foul, pulled a coup to trial I come through Canal, and let the luger style In the DA mouth shit, here's a root canal Right on center street, put 'em on front street Next day the fron |
||||||
| 5. |
| 4:56 |
|
|||
| 6. |
| 4:57 |
|
|||
|
[Chorus: x2]
Uh-oh, it's Santana the Great, oh Uh-oh, it's Santana the Great, oh Uh-oh, it's Santana the Great, oh Bandanna his face, blam, hammer escape, oh Uh-oh, it's Santana the Great, oh Uh-oh, it's Santana the Great, oh Uh-oh, it's Santana the Great, oh Holla at your boy, oh, holla at your [Juelz Santana] Why yall know what crack sound like homie Or what the mac sound like when it's strapped on me, please back off me Before this mac that's strapped on me, gets snatched off me Cocked back used to crash your homies, oh Why yall can't fuck with me man, I guarantee man It's Santana the rap +He-man+ Why yall skeltors get your melons torched when this weapon sart letting off Santana no, don't hurt 'em, don't squirt 'em Don't let the nine burn 'em in the sternum They don't want to go to war with ya' They ain't ready to bang or go to war with ya' So leave 'em alone, don't feed 'em the chrome Why yall labels'll to stop watching me I tried to tell you before, I was ready, I was always hot property Now look, I'm Diplomat slash ROC property Stash rocks probably, fucker, you're not stopping me [Chorus: x2] [Juelz Santana] I'm so, gangsta, it's no one just like me Smooth thug, will Pretty Tony your wifey So you better keep your bitch away Cause I will get her number, call her up, make her my bitch today Why yall can't fuck with the "Great" Santana, bandanna give in clips and weight Hammers will split your face, shift your waist, to a different place Next thing you know, I'm in a different state Back next month, new whip, different plate Damn, Santana delivery the raw Delivery the four, for sure man, I did it before So if your bitch is a whore, don't fight for her Don't waste your life for her, trying to make it right for her With all that frontin' your doin', and stuntin' you're doin' I'll shoot the bump while you moving and shut you from moving [Chorus] [Juelz Santana] Why yall niggas don't ride like I do Slide through in that 7-4-5 blue, right beside who? Killer Where Jones, in the pick-up truck Yeah we use that to pick up stuff, pick up bucks And my Denali is often parked, inside of my condo How much did he sign for? Oh, I bet you want to know that money Yeah I bet you I won't show that money I keep it stashed away, right next to the 4-4, money Keep a lo-pro money, this is slo-mo money I'm used to that fast crack, bag crack Re-cook bag that, give it out, half that If it still bags, have stacks No more running back to me, coming back to me I'm on the corner with a hundred packs of these Damn, oh, he got the purple [Chorus: x2] ------------- Lyrics Powered by LyricFind Written By GILES/THOMAS/GREEN/JAMES Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC |
||||||
| 7. |
| 5:12 |
|
|||
| 8. |
| 6:02 |
|
|||
| 9. |
| 4:41 |
|
|||
|
I feel like dropping something man Yo they tried to box me in the corner for the longest No key, locked me in this corner for the longest but Common man they can't fuck with me, Juelz Santana Uh, some how I managed to creep from under the rock Linking up with Cam and linking up with the Roc now Shit I told you, I won't fail you niggas man Yo this is powerful music I bring to this table The sequels are able the way I sling cane 'cause Let the music talk to them Yo, y'all know I'm fast in focus in case you haven't noticed Squeeze and blast them open as soon as the magnum open Yeah I told you man Uh, Cam gone make me a star, I'm a make him a million Jones is here I'm invading the building and Yeah Diplomat For the last time we got this man But I'm still on the corner grinding for them big stacks Big coat, big gat, don't ever forget that (Verse 2:Jim Jones) Yes I'm, yes uh, oh yeah nigga Yo, even my gold link can be number one on your charts If it happens so be it we come with the art Everyone in my part, they still moving All them chums in the front of the Yo I do this shit sick, stuffed and congested They don't give a fuck if you're sick you still get cuffed and arrested My justice is wretched You get knocked down please grab your crutches keep stepping Cause the game we done held back too long The pain we done felt that too long Cocaine we done dealt that too long And my pops it don't help that you gone, myself to move on Its scary and I'm gonna need help Streets flaunting me, dogs and marijuana don't help Fiends, junkies in the corner don't help Knee deep in my grave on these bloc |
||||||
| 10. |
| 5:21 |
|
|||
| 11. |
| 6:04 |
|
|||
|
We built this city
We built this city We built this city We built this city on rock We built this city (on these blocks we hustle) We built this city on rock (on rock) We built this city (turn bricks to whips) We built this city on rock and roll (on rock) We built this city (in the midst of the struggle) We built this city on rock (on rock) We built this city (from bottom to top) We built this city (through the agony and pain, diplomatic will reign) [Jimmy Jones] Ay yo, my dipset Taliban We on these streets like the wars on them streets of Afghanistan Better yet of Pakistan To America, Harlem's our cater Any problems I spray her that can startle the mayor But in this 50-block radius let's get the rock and shave the shit or get the glock and blaze the shit Bitches get the cock and savor it They say Jim Jones the capo my favorite Cause some of this shit my city wasn't built up over Drugs and money, some shit you get killed up over Slumped on your wheel, straight tilt it over Trust me dogs, I seen it in peril Niggaz wasted and painted and seen on the mural (That's Harlem) In this apple of mine is rhyme Clap up your shines, pop shots that will crack up your minds And cop rocks and cook that crack up to dimes New York City, the capital of crime [Chorus: repeat 2X] [Juelz Santana] Now once again it's Santana the Great I built this city on hammers and weight Gasoline, rope, bandanas and tape Lots of fiends, lots of coke being handed away You know, the usual Shut em down, set up show, how we usually do Cut em down, hit the block man, we movin through Diplomats is the strongest force On and off the court we ballers more than sports We built this city from ground zero To spittin the pound zero, brown pistol At ya get down kicka Yeah this is from the ground up nigga So get your weight and your pounds up nigga Cause when it's beef my homies mound up quicker Fit the pound much quicker, lay you down much quicker You never been approached by Golden Eagles Vultures that will scope and feed you, no court just leave you Shit you know [Chorus: repeat 2X] [Hell Rell] It's like what I wouldn't do for a buck My enemies can't rest in peace Jones, you see they funerals up New gangstas in the city bitch, ring the alarm All y'all hoes bow down, kiss the ring of a don It's about to get real big playa, humongous Stacked money so long til it grew fungus We was gon' let you live til you threw punches Now we got to get critical and we got to get rid of you And we the most talked about, the most popular We live by the codes, we the Dipset mafia You never know who's watchin ya You never know who's plottin to pop at ya We focused like a pair of binoculars I'm bout to get gritty M-5 CLK's garage look like Alphabet City And I'm a hustler, I put cracks in communities Cops can't touch me, got Diplomatic Immunity Now try I'm guaranteed a million shipped in scam If not, back to the block, ship some grams [Cam'Ron] If not, get with Cam I got clips to lift a van, flip a van Shit, they can kick the can This cat think he sling Cause he got a pinky ring Rinky-dink diamonds, they don't even make your pinky bling (We built this city) And now I'm about to kill this city (We built this city) Cradle to 50, yeah I'm acting real seditty (We built this city) Cause I collect mils and fifties For real it's pretty and y'all gonna feel the pity (We built this city on rock) Dipset Bitch [Chorus: repeat 8X] |
||||||
| 12. |
| 2:03 |
|
|||
|
[Marvin Gaye]
I've been really tryin' baby Tryin' to hold back these feelings for so long And if you feel like I feel baby Come on Ohhh come on Woo Let's get on [Little Kid's Voice] Let's get it on nigga [Cam'Ron] Ah man Lets get it on man Santana you on your own man Lets do it man Dipset We got these bastards Man let's do it [Juelz Santana] Uh, you nigga's dealin' with a G from the block Yeah it's me from the block Quick to tell a nigga' (Let's get it on) But I don't really like to beef on the block That bring heat to the block I got ta' eat on the block nigga' (Let's get it on) Yeah you dealin' with a pimp from the hood Keep a chick from the hood Quick to tell her aye (Let's get it on) Come on Let's go I'm tryin' to do it so aye (Let's get it on) I'm one hell of a guy Fly fella' can fly Like Scarface one hell of a high (Let's get it on) One hell of a ride That I ride, 23's look like the pellas' [propellers] on side (Let's get it on) Who stuntin' like me? Who frontin' like me? Who did it, who get it, who done it like me? You? (Let's get it on) Who wishin', who frontin', who want it from me? You? Come get it, you want it, it's nothing to me You? (Let's get it on) Yup, already know how I feel When it comes to pumpin' that steel It's like (Let's get it on) You know with these ride boys toke time up with the cowboy ropes So (Let's get it on) Uh, let's get it on y'all Uh, it's love (Let's get it on) Hey ma, back that ass up Lookin' back almost crashed up So (Let's get it on) That's love right there Hit em' one more time [Let's get it on, on, on] ? Fades till end |
||||||
|
