JIM JONES LYRICS

“Don’t Forget About Me” - Jim Jones
album: “Hustler’s P.O.M.E.: Product Of My Environment” (2006)
(feat. Max B)

[Chorus x2: Max B & Jim]
BYRD GANG WE GET MONEY….
WE WON’T STOP, WE DESTINED TO BLOW
I’MA TAKE MY NIGGAZ AND BITCHES WHEREVER I GOOOO
SO DON’T FORGET ABOUT ME, DON’T FORGET ABOUT MEEEE….
I KNOW I KNOOOOOOW

[Verse 1:]
Now due to me (JONES!)
Me and my truancy (NINE TREY!)
Running through the streets since early puberty! (YOUNG NIGGAZ!)
What influenced me (let em know)….it was the jewelry
Tryna get cash so I can do it like the older G’s (BALLIIIING!)
The 80’s…big thick rope chains
life was all crazy getting rich off cocaine (TRUE STORY NIGGA)
…so I been caught up dog, nothing like Usher (no)…..
more like a hustler (yep)
all night with customers, tryna get my paper up (right)
Jealousy, envy….gotta watch, they’ll spray you up
But it was something bout the gun play….
rolling dice on blocks, double parked up on a one way (TRIPS NIGGA!)
And breaking law was the norm’ (yep), the club break about 4 in the morn’d
So we parking lot pimp, hit the diner for some grub
The squad type thick you know I’m rolling with the thugs

[Chorus]

[Verse 2:]
Now as I roll up my window (R-Class), blaze up the indo (that purple!)….
get tore down for my homies in the pen (miss you Zeke)
I’m ma take you the Cali with me (WESTSIDE!)….
know ya dress code, heavy sag on ya Dickies (B’S & C’S!)
You catch me out in Houston, and usually we can slow it up (slow motiooon)
And get screwed, get a deuce and we can throw it up!
ATL sharp, if you balling and you make it rain (BALLIIIING!)
“I’m in love with a stripper”, alcohol on ya brain
Fast track life, the shit is uncanny (I LOVE IT)
When it come to birds fly south to Miami (OPIUM!)
Weather like 80 (sunny), drop-top Mercedes (BALLIN)
“Sai Pa Say”, on the block in Little Haiti
Chicago is the wolves, the bears, and the gangster’s (you hear that?)
2 12′N with the OG’s, tryna get the answers
And all these O. T trips got me tired
drive the wheels til they fall off
and I just bought some new tires

[Chorus]

JIM JONES LYRICS

“Don’t Push Me Away” - Jim Jones (feat. Rell)
album: “Hustler’s P.O.M.E.: Product Of My Environment” (2006)

Now don’t push me away, cuz when the first time I met you girl you shook me in ways
You know the life of a nigga’s cookin’ up yay,
And because you knew the pitfalls and the tumbles of the game
You’ve seen the spotlight watch niggas fallin’ to the fame
And all the time you tried to tell me to stay hungry and maintain
When I was like lets go half on a baby, and if not then lets go half on a ‘cedes
Drop top coup while we pumpin’ sweet sadie
Flyin’ up Lennox, doin’ us, pushin’ 80
The late nights, the road trips got you pissed
The road trips, the late nights got us rich
The clothes that we wear, the place that we piss
Run and get shot, we ain’t what we sit
So if I don’t get a chance to tell you
Now too often girl your hand so helpful
In this cold world girl every man needs help too
So baby Im’a ride and no plans to fail you

Please, baby don’t push me away
I want you (I want your love beside me baby)
(Please) Please, baby don’t push me away
Cuz I need you (Cuz I need you)

I had enough of the shucking and jiving, duckin’ and hidin’
I’m tryin’ to get to conversation and ridin’ (Well)
Cuz I’m feelin’ your essence your presence is just enough to let me know that its destined
And since the day that I found you, there’s something about you that makes me want to lose it and pounce ya
But it’s not just your body, it’s your mind, your spirit, everything combined
And while I got a chance, take my hand and let me show you something real, that love you can feel (Yeah)

Please, baby don’t push me away
I want you (I want your love beside me baby)
(Please) Please, baby don’t push me away
Cuz I need you (Cuz I need you)

Uh, now two years done passed, few cheers, few laughs
Coppin’ Vs, shoppin’ sprees gears in the bags
And who cares who’s near, cuz most of the bitches would just say you was there for the cash
And I ain’t scared of your past, I prepare for the future
The one thing I ask is just don’t tear a nigga coup up
You brang the bail when I was caged up
And back and forth the court to the lawyer now we case shut
You found the numbers in my phone, you was my face but
You know what they say the break ups to make ups
And I admit I’m getting better with the flirtin’,
You know you dead sexy when you yellin’ and you cursin’
You such a hell of a person so when I get home I’m gonnna tell you in person
Face to face, Im’a run base to base,
And then Im’a slide home safe till I make yo body shake
You tell me every night that life comes with a twist
That I’m in the spotlight and I’m runnin’ the risk
Hey you always say love don’t come with a kiss
Its hard soakin’ up game when its comin’ from a bitch
But where’s my manners, never take you for granted
Never take you advantage, most people don’t understand it
Is you happy? Look inside humor,
When you and I together what the fuck they gonna do wit us
Say ya prayer cuz we destined for glory,
And when the credits roll its Harlem’s West Side Story

My vision of the lovin’ is close,
That’s how I want us to be when we doin our thing (Well)
Kissin’ ya, lickin’ ya, touchin’ ya, rubbin’ ya, tell me how you want me to bring it
Because I know he got limits but baby I don’t, and my feelins they won’t
Let you get away from me, come stay with me
Baby, Baby, Pleeaaaassseee

Baby don’t push me away (When the sunshine)
When the sunshine turn to rain, baby I can take away your pain
(I can take away your pain)
Just call me up when you need some time, I’ll take you out, break you off like
Daddy come on
You don’t have to settle for less and baby I can give you what you want
(I can give you what you want)
Just call me up when you need some time, and you can get it from me just like
Daddy come on

Shit, so don’t push me away

JIM JONES LYRICS

“Weatherman” - Jim Jones (feat. Lil Wayne & Stack Bundles)
album: “Hustler’s P.O.M.E.: Product Of My Environment” (2006)

[Jim Jones:]
This is 9 tre news I’m Jimmy Jones here with your weather
We apologize for the drout all week but it looks like thunderstorms
all weekend. We fittin to make it rain on you motherfuckers (Ya Heard Me)

[Chorus x2: Stack Bundles]
Look Weatherman with that money I make it rain on ‘em
Weatherman with that paper I make it rain on ‘em
Weatherman with that kitty I make it rain on ‘em (YEH)
I make it rain on ‘em (YEH) I make it rain on ‘em (YESIR)

[Jim Jones:]
I’m Rick James I’m rich bitch is what I tell ‘em
Just left the bank I took 50 from the teller (CashMoney)
I’m fittin to make it rain so getchu an umbrella
We also make it snow we cocaine gram sellers (That Yayo)
Ballin gettin high throwin dolla’s from the sky (balllllin)
Big reffer cloud got in storming inside (drizzlin)
Foreign outside I’m usually foreign when I drive (Speedin)
A buck sixty feels like you soaring in the sky
Blowing money on the liqiour (Twisted)
At the strip joint blowing money on the bitches (Let it rain)
We standin on the bar throwing money like a pitcher (Get money)
But nigga I ain’t slippin got a fully-loaded trigga
And that can cause a heatwave (getchu clapped haa)
That mean you diggin you a deep grave
Nigga’s Jump yo ass have ‘em missin you for 3 days (Where he at?)
Cam says that this nigga’s a sucker (fareaal)
So that mean that this nigga’s a sucker (Ya heard that? Capo)

[Chorus x2: Jim Jones]
I’m the, Weatherman with that money I make it rain on ‘em (Ballllin)
Weathetman with that paper I bought a range on ‘em (Capo)
20 grand worth uh money I bought champagne (Do it)
I make it rain on ‘em (Do it) Make it rain on ‘em (Do it)

[Lil Wayne:]
Wezzy fuckin baby, Get ‘em a leash
Young money Dipset you betta believe
That gun got me walking like I got irregular knees
I be all over the bread like sesomi seeds
Auto-matic with the money like Reggi for 3 (laughing)
Big birds no Sesame Street, Bitch!
I’m to clean they ain’t messin with me
I’m just trying to see my decimals speak
Now these niggaz just lighter then some good shit to me (Ok)
These niggaz sweet like a taheshin treat (Ok)
They say I’m full of hot air then I release the heat
Split a nigga from his teeth to feet (Daamn)
Know what I’m talkin about
Know what I meaaan like keep the sneaks
I go dolla for dolla, week for week (Yeeah)
And Birdman said you niggaz is bitches
So that mean you niggaz is bitches, And Me?

[Chorus: Lil Wayne]
I’m the Weatherman with that money I make it rain on ‘em
Weatherman with that paper I make it rain on ‘em
Still Ballin after the hundred K
I’m the weatherman with that money I make it rain on ‘em

[Chorus: Stack Bundles]
Weatherman with that money I make it rain on ‘em
Weatherman with that paper I make it rain on ‘em (Yesir)
Weatherman with that kitty I make it rain on ‘em (Yeeah)
I make it rain on ‘em (Yeeah) I make it rain on ‘em (Yeah)

[Stack Bundles:]
Look!
Nuffin changed I’m still ballin like I’m spose to be
Shot callin like I’m spose to be
I spoil her like she close to me (Yeeah)
Find something bad bag her like groceries
Lifestyles like Six Flags I’m rollercoasterlly
Pockets full of kitty, these niggaz ain’t gettin money like I was
I make it rain on em, they callin scattered showers (WHAAT)
I’m the motherfuckin Weatherman (Yeaah)
Tornado money can’t fit it in a rubberband (Naah)
Check tha news It’s goin be a cloudy forecast (And whaat)
And when I move a couple goons in that R Class (Yesir)
She want a Doughboy nigga that do numbers
A smile likle lightning and a ass like thunder (Yeeah)
I Shows out and the whores all love it (Love it)
And when it stop drizzlin the floors all flooded (Yessir)
In one night blew bezzle on charm money
Fuck it it’s nothin I’m still spendin Desert Storm money

[Chorus: Stack Bundles ’til fade]

JIM JONES LYRICS

“We Fly High” - Jim Jones
album: “Hustler’s P.O.M.E.: Product Of My Environment” (2006)

I wear a mean dark pair of shades
Aint you cant see my eyes unless my head is bent , you dig

[Chrous:]
[Jim Jones:]
We fly high, No Lie ,You know this (BALLIN!)
Foreign rides, outside, its like showbiz (We in the building)
[Girl:]
We stay fly, No Lie ,You know this (BALLIN!)
Hips and Thighs, Oh my, Stay focus

[Jim Jones:]
Ya boy gettin paper (Money), I buy big cars (Foreign)
I need fly rides to drive in my garage (Choose 1)
Stay sky high (Twisted), Fly wit the stars (Twinkle ,Twinkle)
T 4 ? Flights , 80 grand large (BALLIN!)
So we lean with it, pop with it (Bankhead)
‘Vertible jones, mean with the top listen (Flossin)
I’m sayin clean with the bottom ?(Do It)
I Hop’d out saggy jeans and my rock glistenin(BALLIN!)
But I spent bout 8 grand
Mami on stage doin the rain dance (I think she like me)
She let it hit the floor, made it pop (What Else !?)
Got my pedal to the floor screamin fuck the cops(Do It!)

[Chrous:]
[Jim Jones:]
We fly high, No Lie ,You know this (BALLIN!)
Foreign rides, outside, its like showbiz
[Girl:]
We fly high, No Lie ,You know this (BALLIN!)
Hips and Thighs, Oh my, Stay focus

Slow Down, Tonight may be gone tommorow (One Chance!)
So I speed thu life like theres no tommorow (Speedin!)
100 g’s worth of ice on the Auto? (Flossy)
And we in the street life until they call the law(BALLIN!)
I made the whip get naked (What Happen !?)
While I switch gears, Bitch lookin at the bracelet (Got Em)
Step out, show me what your all about
Flashbacks of last night of me ballin out (Harlem!)
1 a.m. we was at the club (What Happen !?)
2 a.m. Ten bottles of bub (Money ain’t a thing)
And about 3 somethin I was thinkin about grub
So I stumbled to the car, threw the drinks and the drugs (Twisted)

[Chrous:]
[Jim Jones:]
We fly high, No Lie ,You know this (BALLIN!)
Foreign rides, outside, its like showbiz
[Girl:]
We stay fly, No Lie ,You know this
Hips and Thighs, Oh my, Stay focus

Nigga could you buy that
I keep 20 in the pocket (Light Change)
Talk a buck 80 If the bentley is the topic (That grey poupon)
But of course gotta fly …? (Where?)
To the hood to roll dice on the side of the curb
But I know a G Bent’ may sound obsurd (Get Your Money Up)
Drive 80 up Lennox cause I got an urge (Speedin)
The rap game like the crack game
Lifestyles, rich and famous livin in the fast lane (BALLIN!)
So when i bleep shorty bleep back
Lou Vutton Belt where im keep all the heat strapped
I beat the trial over rucker (Lets Do It)
All guns loaded in the back motherfucker (Dipset)

[Chrous:]
[Jim Jones:]
We fly high, No Lie ,You know this (BALLIN!)
Foreign rides, outside, its like showbiz (We in the building) 2x
[Girl:]
We stay fly, No Lie ,You know this (BALLIN!)
Hips and Thighs, Oh my, Stay focus

You niggas need to stay focus
When your dealin with a motherfuckin G
You know my name, Jones, One Eye, Capo Status
Only above motherfucka
This Dipset ByrdGang We Born To Fly
Ya’ll know the rules fall back or fall back
Someone tell my bitch summer I’m lookin for her
Ya dig, Another day another dollar
Fast life fucker

JIM JONES LYRICS

“Pin The Tail” - Jim Jones (feat. Cam’ron, Juelz Santana & Max B)
album: “Hustler’s P.O.M.E.: Product Of My Environment” (2006)

[Max B:]
Birdgang Club Banger
Tryin’ to holla at you shorty
One focus, one focus only
Tryin’ to hit that thang
Let’s Go

We make hits in the studio nightly,
We out trying to get this money
We take trips in the winter in jet planes to climates where it’s sunny
We got mami on the dance floor, grindin’ to the beat
Tipsy off the bubbly
But at the end of the day, we feelin’ to play
I’m tryin’ to pin the tail on the donkey

[Jim Jones:]
It goes yes, yes yo, fresh to death balla (ballin)
You can play hard, cuz under pressure I’m stone (swish)
We playin’ tight D, I’m in the paint like a G
Some say they gangstas but they ain’t like me
Came from an environment, came I was firin’ (bricks)
Then hit the dealers see the range I was buyin’ (it was nothing)
Don’t test drive like a whole whip like you should
Shoving up pies, a whole whip that you should
Then take the proceeds, waist about four G’s
Bottles in the club tryin’ to get the home and skeez (Get twisted)
I’m tryin’ to get the dame to breeze, but she putting up a fight like Layla Ali
(Well what’s your name nigga)
I told the lady I’ll be doin’ the turnpike 80 in the fly V
Middle name 40 on the wrist, last name you can’t afford me bitch
Get a camcorder bitch (Yeah)

[Max B:]
We make hits in the studio nightly,
We out trying to get this money
We take trips in the winter in jet planes to climates where it’s sunny
We got mami on the dance floor, grindin’ to the beat
Tipsy off the bubbly
But at the end of the day, we feelin’ to play
I’m tryin’ to pin the tail on the donkey

[Juelz Santana:]
Cases of purée, rosé
Look like Picasso painted on the bottles
We throwin’ money, we lookin’ like lotto’s
I could cover chicks with cheese like nachos
Fly out the cove, land in the heat where
New York to Miami bitch
Bitch, I’m in the life of a hood star, rock star without the guitar
Got em’ all rubbin’ they bitch bra
Got em’ all shakin’ their tush like
Im’a givin’ em’ a taste of the good life
But I give em’ a taste of the good liquor
A taste of the good bud
Next thing you know she’ll be tastin’ my good ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh
I get money be quiet, you talkin’ to the jolly green giant
I see it, I like it, I buy it
Baby I’m flyer then a pilot flyin’ at his highest, climb it

[Max B:]
We make hits in the studio nightly,
We out trying to get this money
We take trips in the winter in jet planes to climates where it’s sunny
We got mami on the dance floor, grindin’ to the beat
Tipsy off the bubbly
But at the end of the day, we feelin’ to play
I’m tryin’ to pin the tail on the donkey

[Cam’ron:]
Where my homies? Up to no good
Where my homies? Yup I’m so hood
What up pimpin’, pimpin’, I’m exempt already
See my hoes are like my plates, temporary
Act nil you beat it, move on strategic
The marbles man, yup the floors are heated
Cam half pound a quart a kid
Better ask round I’m sorta needed mack rounds you’re deceited
In the 90’s, Z3, BB’s, now in the crib the TVs watch TVs
Killen Killen, mo killen and then a kitty purrs
Fuck furs, his and hers, Bentley spurs
Gun talk, real talk, speak mack to mack
We like the Pistons, Bulls, you know back to back
Mazirattis back to back, come ride wit me
On 11 hundred, not the pipe, two five fifties

[Max B:]
We make hits in the studio nightly,
We out trying to get this money
We take trips in the winter in jet planes to climates where it’s sunny
We got mami on the dance floor, grindin’ to the beat
Tipsy off the bubbly
But at the end of the day, we feelin’ to play
I’m tryin’ to pin the tail on the donkey