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letra de rotations - jim jones

(feat. mel matrix)

let’s get back to music that was cracked influence
back, but you was’ so rack, so’
killers don’t strive to do it, aha!
drug dealers got stacks, so blew it!
it’s all the same to us
you can came till they came for us!
(what’s what?)
home, i can’t forget my n-gg- big sh-t
daddy, oh! he and louis bought city, now we’re big meat
i’m on show in an off show.
they gave ’em 39 show and he was called for
(go for the pill!)
you fly fellow and the sky dweller (see the world)
a king seller and a’ dweller (what you are?)
zen life for bad b-tch like she bail out
uh, i got back, i don’t need to tell her! (what’s in it?)
whoever’s seen the cookie, won a key’
so the hunger for the game is what we develop!
keep the gr-ss cut low, so you could see the jealous
snake motherf-ckers called them both’
you ‘ b-tches call them’
because they’re trying to squeeze the life from you
have you ever heard of max squeeze’or fortune
didn’t hurt your ears from the’
hot water motherf-cker when the beef boil
but we ain’t here for cooking cl-ss (let it go!)
we don’t need to woof just to push your -ss
a push show, wanna push you over
the dope that i sold i put dad and fold us!
uh, c-ke that i sold, i put dad and soda
i ain’t talking about coca-cola!
no pepsi, b-tches that love em s-xy.
i ain’t talking about coca-cola!
no pepsi, b-tches that love em s-xy.

grind hard, kept the work in the trash
the beef with’ kept the gaga off the stash
the word from uptown and the’
had that’from smoke and that coca we snorted.
he got familiar touch dough, he was bred by the shooters
i’m familiar with the stories, i got my clothes in the boosters
the strippers all mine, but i’ the bodega
the game was on fire, remain cool, i’m a player!
i sn-tch, step some goons that was down to bust for me,
stash hoes .. young and lost for me.
i’m on point, that don’t means that i’m nervous
these all black shades don’t mean i ain’t focused.
drama never over, i’mma double back with all black, v black.. double black
and we don’t show no mercy
boys split’ put the soul in the dirt, motherf-cker!

- jim jones

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