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letra de spin again - j money, just bang & lil tray

[intro: j money]
(bb had to do it to ’em)
(funk or die)
hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on

[verse 1: j money]
hold on, this somethin’ i gotta dance to
where i’m from, we gotta keep sticks like some bamboo
like, hold up, wait a minute, let me count my blues
i don’t care you got a man, baby girl, you’re cute
if your man try me, guns get to blowin’ like flutes
and lil’ kid, fod step for me too
young boy from oakland, he gettin’ bands too
you gon’ make it far as me long as you stay in school
you just gotta keep your mind right and stay cool
bro walkin’ with bl!ck, so you better stay smooth
all i do is speak the truth when i’m in the booth
they say it get cold when a hot boy walk in the room
i remember bein’ in stockton, climbin’ on roofs
you don’t need to go out to the dеntist, i’ll knock out your tooth
i’m finna knock it out the park like i’m babe ruth
hе say he got money, it’s his mom’s, that’s the half truth
[interlude: j money & just bang]
like, how you gon’ flex your mama money?
like, boys really cappers for real, like
baby j, what it is, n-gga?
what’s good, brodie?
ayy, look
ooh, ayy (uh)

[verse 2: just bang]
ten thousand my mouth, i be shinin’ hard (yeah)
i got a glock on my waist, no bodyguard (nah)
i done crashed the h-llcat, this a different car (skrrt)
they think i ride around in sp-ce, all they see is stars (woo, hoo)
sh-t, yeah, that’s phil’s sh-t (brodie)
i knocked the b-tch off instagram, she a real b-tch (uh)
that lil’ piece on that chop, that’s a k!ll switch (graow)
they call me to slide through and i k!ll sh-t (bah)
ah, you old mickey mouse n-gga, you a real snitch (what?)
at icebox with big bruh getting real drip (ooh)
ooh, all this ice on my shh, you might slip (let’s get it)
ayy, drop the lo’ on what’s-his-name and get bro flipped (let’s get it)
i’m rollin’ wade on the blade with white chicks (ha)
p-ssy good, it be feelin’ like vice grips (ooh)
two rollie, four chains, it’s ice chips
i’m a dog to these hoes, i’m mike vick
[interlude: j money]
they ain’t really that cap for real, but people really tryna set you up
like, they don’t want you to be successful in life, they don’t want you to win
it’s really crazy

[verse 3: j money]
like, i don’t understand how that work
ask my bros, i’ll never snitch on paperwork
where i’m from, you don’t know if it’s guns or fireworks
where i’m from, your bros could be fakin’ and tryna lurk
if gettin’ money was a crime, you’d be innocent
creepin’ with a couple k’s, so i’m movin’ militant
you say you goin’ up, but you ain’t doin’ it
nba, makin’ plays, call me gregg popovich
i’m in the stu’ waitin’ for the beats, what you lackin’ for?
better call me fredo how i’m finna go bag ’em though
baby girl, if we talkin’, keep it on the low
they call my diamonds hard ’cause it look like the snow
big chop hold fifty for the ammo
call me varrell makin’ plays, don’t forget the joe
you say you cool, but you not, why you lyin’ then?
big dog, uncle too, and we goin’ in
you gettin’ way too close, bruh, you is not my friend
too comfortable, lil’ bro, we is not kin
you got them all, they didn’t bust, you is not him
circle gettin’ smaller, it’s closing ’cause we is not friends
when i’m gettin’ older, i’m tryna buy a lamb’
big roll in my pocket, huh, let me count up ten
big fod, we some real men
they say it’s get back gang, well, spin again
[verse 4: lil tray]
them n-ggas want that get back, tell ’em spin again
we ain’t hit n0body first time, we gon’ spin the bin
ain’t got no money for me, baby, you ain’t gettin’ in
‘member all them days road runnin’, tryna get a ten
pants hangin’ ’cause the clip that’s in the glock extend
i only hang with real shooters, i do not pretend
j bay say he get a lil’ older, he gon’ cop the benz
and he ain’t gettin’ in the whip unless he got the tints
fod gettin’ money, that ain’t nothin’ new
why them n-ggas always get to runnin’ when we comin’ through?
i don’t even want the money, it ain’t comin’ blue
swear i’m sick of all these love me n-ggas like i got the flu
she gon’ suck it while she drive, that’s what she like to do
turn your friends into haters, what this ice’ll do
you is not my b-tch, told her, “i don’t gotta lie to you”
come and get a job with fod, i can hire you

- j money just bang lil tray

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