Yung Joc
Yung Joc - Patron songtekst
Je score:
(Ohhh!) Uh-huh (Shit! What up Chino Dolla?) New Joc City (Here it is) But right now, you 'bout to witness a nigga gone off that Patron (Heh-heh, aight) I'm talkin 'bout seven shots up Y'knahmtalkinbout? (Seven shots? Woooo-ooh, shit!) (Boyz N Da Hood) The next round on you nigga, ha ha Now what I want y'all to do (What'chu want me to do nigga?) Take that shit to the motherfuckin head, to the flo' nigga Let's go I just bought a zone, J's on my feet I'm on that Patron, so get like me I just bought a zone, J's on my feet I'm on that Patron, so get like me Er-ery'body love me, boss so fly Niggaz throw the deuces ery'time I ride by Er-ery'body love me, boss so fly Niggaz throw the deuces ery'time I ride by C'mon me tell me what it do, I do it for the A When the top drop, rock the platinum Cartier Got that Microsoft so they call me Bill Gates Ice links 'round my neck lookin like I build gates I'm Mr. Amoco, yeah I got the pumps Pockets on swoll lookin like they got the mumps I'm 'bout my change, gotta get the riches From the look of thangs y'all gettin JC Penney's Pass that Patron, the lime's right thurr Rock with it, lean with it, in my Nike Urr Wink my eye at your bitch, now she wishin she could touch See the J's on my feet, and she love the diamond cuts Fresh to death, everyday like I jumped up out a caskets Ask Chino Dolla 'bout that dope boy magic Connected like apartments, keep one in the cartridge Chevy seats ostrich, name in the carpet I mix Patron and Everglow, I call it anti-freeze Take one sip her drawers fall to her knees Mister V.I.P., get it like me Ice piece on my wifebeat I call it Ice-T Kush by the seven, I call it Mike Vick She call me officer I hit her with my nightstick My swag so mean need anger management You call it what you want I'm on some ol' eleven shit These niggaz wanna hate, God dammit we can handle it Mad cause I got juice, call me Tropicana bitch Joc feel good. Joc buy the bar Catch me in the hood pimp, rollin on a 'gar I plead to the judge I'm guilty of the charge I'ma ballaholic, can't help it I'ma star You see the yellow ice, you holla oh my God Tryin to guess the price, ehh about thirty large Ery'body wanna know, how I do my thang Yeah I get money and I let my nuts hang Pull up to curb, cut it to the left My rims sittin tall 'til I dim the knee steps I just see what I want, then I go get it The apple jelly Chevy with the peanut butter in it So don't get mad, pimp keep it cool I hang with them goons and the boys keep them tools I hustle all day, that's just how I live Stack them big faces, give the strippers dollar bills Check the dictionary for a P.I.M.P. And when you look it up, potnah tell me who ya see Young J-O-C, yeah that's me Twenty-eight G's, on my feet twenty-three's I'm on that Patron, so gone that Patron So gone that Patron, so get like me So gone that Patron, so gone that Patron So gone that Patron, so get like me Get like me, get like me So gone that Patron, so get like me