Pour Wax lyrics

(feat. Hell Rell)

[Jim Jones]
You`re reign on the top, short like Leprechauns
I came through in drops, Porches and heavy charms
I came from the block, the slums wit ex-con`s
And we aimin` them glocks of course ready to bomb
Now I done seen a Custy` cop four pies of the same gear
Also seen a nigga cop four rides in the same year
This concrete jungle, no trees to swing from
This weed and gettin drunk and heaters gettin dumped
Hit the highway nigga ki`s up in the trunk
Back up in the city with some skeezas in the trunk
I aint a player but I do my dirt dog
Drop top `Cedes better move when it merk off
It got me swingin to the left lane
Plus a nigga caughin `cause the haze give me chest pain
Yes motha fucka the boys is back
With my vest and I`m tucked up with my boys in back

[Chorus: Jim Jones]
You dont want it with them niggaz
While you niggaz steady bitching my niggaz gettin` richer
You mad `cause we ballin`
Bet you mad `cause we scorin
If he get out of line put his punk ass in a coffin
Nigga we a ragime, Byrdgang we the truth
Keep a foriegn sedan or swirvin` in the coupe
Oakwood in the interior, swade on the roof
Now shoot, {Bang, Bang} shoot {Bang, Bang}

[Hell Rell]
Aw man Hell Rell, he on the same bullshit agiain
Same black hoody{Yup}, same fo` fifth again
Bithes stopped likin` me but now they on my dick again
Seen me in the Ashton with my glistinin`
Yea I`m bustin off the chrome
Yea I`m `bout to off your dome
Kill the mother and the father, kids go to foster homes
Yea I like to floss the chrome, nigga leave the boss alone
See my neck and my wrist, I`m rockin` what it costs for homes
Homie they dont call me ruger for nothing
Back out on theese bitch niggaz get that ruger to dumpin`
Dont run up on me nigga you know I stay with it
G`d up from the beef and brock`s to the Oakland A`s fitted
That`s the bottom to the top, it`s in the bottom of the pot
I got it white, I got it tan, it`s either you copin` or you not
Nigga jets is pullin` off and you stuck in the current
D.I.P., B.G., fuck what you heard

[Chorus]

[Jim Jones]
We all strapped in the ride, I aint talkin` like the elderly
Yac`ed when we drive like a rollin fuckin` felony
Trapped to survive, get the bucks, sell them ki`s
It`s hard to get by that`s why we puff hell`a`weed
But if this high dont come down
I feal the world spinnin` like the sky gon` come down
I need air top of the ride gon` come down
And i swear I stay fly when I jump out
Jewled up in ice like what that dude like
Spider four thirty with the blue`ish lights
Got the coupe bright, still shoot dice
For my niggaz on the east side this is true life

[Chorus]