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letra de jim jones & axel leon freestyle on flex | freestyle #043 - jim jones

[verse 1: jim jones]
they try to cut me out and wish death on me
couple bounds is bounds, n-ggas try to drop checks on me
that didn’t clear, thought i wouldn’t emerge
if this was a movie, half of you n-ggas were in the purge
broad day, i done see n-ggas get put on the curb
i know old plugs that didn’t sold good in the ‘burbs
come down you see i get love like lord though
rucker park nights, must have robbed ford autos
i loved the 911 until they came with the four door
i used to sell coke when the king was that bordeaux
but just like vegas you got to bet on yourself
i love checkers but i like chess better myself
four moves ahead, sometimes i’m ahead of myself
i’m not god by then just tryin’ to better myself
cuz i done seen n-ggas turn paper planes into ‘jects
cuz this is more deeper than having a chain on my neck
it was more like having a meeting about cocaine with the connect
and they had two thousand birds but they just came with a check
cuz there was a time when i sold coke on the side
and i watched all the friends that was closest to me die
so i felt like the game had completely broken my pride
so i brought bottles of champagne just to soak in the ride
and if you speak to me now i feel like i’m emotionally tied
and when they talk about the dips they say that’s a broken up pie
so what good is that if you can’t sell it whole?
i got secrets in my body that i can’t tell a soul
i still post up in my hood the left hand work the gold
my right hand on the dice and five grand on the rolls
i ain’t speak to the weatherman but there’s a chance it could snow
i still run around in my pants since the kick
[verse 2: axel leon]
spanish hoes love me, i’m a noodle now
i got the juice, b-tches call me young jugo now
growing up i got stepped on, i ain’t lose potency
got cut twice, but i’m still puro, wow
they say you got better, duele ta duro now
i’ve been nice, i could call twelve, then two more rounds (remix!)
they see me movin’, they call me young u-haul now
always hoppin’ out the coupe, i’m young two-door now
we stayin’ on avenues, started trapping with nickels
to remain capital like the back of the nickel
hamburgers, no pickles, n-gga cuttin’ the loot
jail n-ggas bottle pickles and they p-ss in the juice
trap freeze in the cold watching these in the snow
that’s that new york sh-t like chopped cheese on a roll
put a hole through you skinny f-cks
and display your intestines like a jimmy truck
armor armed onto his legs and f-ckin skinned knees up
(tell ’em!)
if mickey was raised how i was he f-ckin’ minnie up anytime she was goofy
too deep, me and my guns like f-ckin’ two piece
you’ll get a piece, too, leave your brain and your cool girl
(dog noises) who let the dogs out?
apartment full of guns i’m bringing the loft out
black granite floors white walker done bring the floors out
you got your foot in the door i blew the doors down
then i threw the doors out (right!)
my b-tch louie she threw all the michael kors out
she gettin’ sh-t, all this sh-t she couldn’t afford now
payment down, no down payments, she put it all down
they know how wall street city hall now
she what you once reserved, i’m reserving the call now
i’m serious, silly, a phone call now
alien flow, i’m ’bout to phone home now
these n-ggas take from the land, think they don’t own now
these n-ggas duel like noreaga capone now
duo, we harmonize when alone now
dogs from the ghetto in harmony, bone bone now (woof!)
look, uh, you want it done right? you got to do it, i’m next
you want the city to hear it, you got to do it for flex
i swear i know i got to do it myself, i don’t got to
all i’ve got to do it for help
i get it, it’s always about who talk, never about who did it
it got to be automatic, never about who wit it
you got him, i got his back too
if he pop with his homie, the other n-gga get smacked too
look, i sell crack sippin’ remy martin
drunk out my mind, they don’t test, they know the max, pay it faster than papoose
i’m on my bullsh-t, i swear to god, son
hardest working, me, jaquae, fred the godson
we shook the state with that mirror mirror
it’s looking good like the reflection on shakira mirror
capone said they don’t know of you
you’ll be ballin’ when the streets get ahold of you
look, he passed the ball to me and i ran to the top
he told me i don’t got to be greedy to run with the roc
he said keep it low, that’s when i gave him a high five
don’t act surprised when you see me sippin’ malta with tata
don’t quote me though, just get it real n-gga, y’all with the opie dope
rappers hit me off the cans, don’t smoke me though
you got your foot in the door, i got my arm and my foot and no hokey poke
tell me the best f-ckin’ rhyme, tell me the most you wrote
man, like whatever, man, i got like eight more minutes
this whatever man?

- jim jones

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