Jim Jones (feat. Cam'Ron, Juelz Santana) "Only One Way Up"
On My Way To Church
[Jim Jones] We set them presidents, to get them presidents Over the ones that are dead, we'll put guns to your head Put dots on your loaf like you was wonder the bread Sheek, Zeke, Hell Rell, and I got some in the Feds I contradict what ever the government says For them boys on my back wit them bugs by my bed They still thinkin' that we coppin' sellin raw Tryin' to put us through them Rico and them Rockefeller' laws I'm in LA the top down the pedals floored Wit a hot stiletto whore, suck my cock tell the law For all you faggots I see past all your cheap stares Nowadays I see my past from a beach chair I the fellin' so relaxed and refreshin' when chillin' A total change from movin crack off the steps of the buildin's Rollin wit gangs in the back of the ' jects where the killin' In Park Ave. where young Chris body found A number is all to add to task body count Watch it boy they'll show you how that shotty bounce, bounce
[Juelz] I'm the most incredible, to ever do what you cats'll never do, or be able to I'm ahead of you, cause I spit like I never ate, and if I did then I'm just never full Stop the hoe jokes, I'm not a homo, better believe I'll cock the 4-4 I ain't Mexican, but I'll stretch your man, yes I am a fuckin' vato loco I went from the pot with cocoa To the block with cocoa To gettin' locked, catchin' a charge dealin' wit the cops and cocoa Now I'm just hot like cocoa You can catch me on the block, being watched, in a drop The same color as chocolate cocoa I done walked in the street, with so much raw in my sneaks God dam, got home and had corns on my feet I see the lord when I sleep, and often he speaks He says Juelz you better than all of these creeps So I got all my shit light, got on my shit right Not a lot of thems this nice But the games funny so I gotta do shit right So to the ball drop, and the world blow up, I'm a twirl shit up Until my peeps come home, Zeke come home, better believe I'm a keep on beastin' on
[Cam'Ron] Where should I began our pompous A thousand wins accomplished Known throughout the atlas, honest been accomplished You'll be abolished Men, children, women astonished The Don is the one, jewelry way beyond it Chunky blessed on the chest Funky S when I dress Thunder storm damn Monkey wrenching' her fresh But I cope wit the rain, mad I can't float with my dame, down to the coastal wit caine Maine, my boat is a plane I land on the water, here I go boastin' again I keep toast, give a toast, inhale smoke for the pain Girls gone wild, nope They goin' insane All doped off the fame Jump rope with my chain Now thats off the chain, Ma take off your chain the 40 will off your brain, kids will be lost and claimed Cause of Walton James, now in the orphan game Whether adoption or foster its all the same Jim's the rider of riders JR's the writer of writers Juelz you know him well, hell he the fire of fire I'm the supplier, baffled thats the hustler Trife got a knife for that apple inside your jugular The Big Apple, I tackle all the customers Put it on the apple at the castle, come and fuck with us And further more, got the birds of raw, I deserve a tour Hey, hey holla' back, swallow that Thats murda' whore In a Persian turban, swervin', that Suburban mergein', curvin', herb in the air Yeah, yeah I'm hurtin y'all See I crash and cop it, mash and mop it, blast a rocket Natural born hustler, yeah crack I stocked it Now my drugs are legal, so just pass the profit Three months alone Sizzurp will smash the ' Notic We them B boys in one year a quarter billion Here come the clothin' line, I got your order children And thats more than illin' Long as the Lord is willin' I'm a pour in millions, so applaud a villain Killa