Jim Jones - To Whom It May Concern (Ft. B.E.N.N.Y. the Butcher, Cam'ron, Conway & Guordan Banks)

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Jim Jones - To Whom It May Concern (Ft. B.E.N.N.Y. the Butcher, Cam'ron, Conway & Guordan Banks)

Jim Jones

To Whom It May Concern

Featuring(s) : B.E.N.N.Y. the Butcher, Cam'ron, Conway & Guordan Banks

  Contributeurs : 0

Paroles - lyrics: To Whom It May Concern

[Intro: Jim Jones]
Heatmakerz
Crack Music
Uh, tuh

[Verse 1: Jim Jones]
To whom it may concern
They gettin' money now, they want you to wait your turn
We all went out of town, only a few may return
Get your money rest of the week ’cause on Tuesday they return
For this bread, I'm on my lawyer's head ’til my new case is adjourned
Keep water on my neck for them blue faces I burned, uh
Yeah, and I be dripped up in the latest threads
I used to sell that co-co like Jamaican bread
You can't sit up at the table, you ain't breakin' bread
All gold Rollie but the face is red
All my niggas got snatched up, 'bout to face the feds
In cold sweats is how I wake in bed
You know I never wrote a rap still
You don't make these niggas sick, they never know you that ill
I just caught a case but they better know I pack still
Damn Miami, Club 11 with the MAC spilled
You know death before, shit
Death before they dishonor me
Shit, I pump raw in the poorest economies
I even flew the raw through economy
Shit, a couple boys tried to Harmon me, I
Still pray to the Lord, Deuteronomy
Shit, I'm with, uh, when the...
Shit I'm with, uh, with my savage on

[Chorus: Guordon Banks]
Stand tall and face all your fears
Hold your head and wipe all your tears
Many nights, will be nobody there
You gotta promise yourself you never give up
You gotta jump (You gotta jump)
You gotta jump (You gotta jump)
You gotta jump
Tell me what do you have left to lose?

[Verse 2: Benny the Butcher]
Yeah, I wrote lines about pretty women and crimes I really committed
Spendin’ my 30s gettin’ rich, I spent half my 20s in prison
Better late than never, dudes that was up, them niggas finished
And after sellin' smack, I saw a hundred racks independent
They hit both back when I had two spots on the same street
It wasn’t addin' up, the plug got knocked in the same week
I would've opened up two more spots if I stayed free
If you can't give ’em to me five at a time then I can't eat
Heard he shot his best friend for a bird, check it
A knock with his third weapon
Could pray for him, but he don't deserve heaven
I was used to fiends on the curb beggin'
Them ounces I serve reckless
This rap shit'll be my confirmed blessing, let's go

[Verse 3: Cam'ron]
My crib on the West Coast, we should start
What's in it? Cathedral ceilings, museum art
A couple girls doin' couples' yoga in leotards
I opened up the locks to the door 'cause the keys was off (That's a fact)
You know me?
Know where me and my mom was livin' at (40th)
In a warzone, nigga, where all the hits was at
Nigga pull the trigger right after they give your nigga dap (What up?)
I been gone so long, it feel like y'all niggas forgettin' that (True)
Ninety-ten on the bundle, what kind of shit is that? (Is that?)
Got the birds, I wasn't settling for chicken scraps (Nah)
Flippin' bricks way before the raps
You can get with this or you can get with that
The real black sheep, kill 'em

[Chorus: Guordon Banks]
Stand tall and face all your fears
Hold your head and wipe all your tears
Many nights, will be nobody there
You gotta promise yourself you never give up
You gotta jump (You gotta jump)
You gotta jump (You gotta jump)
You gotta jump
Tell me what do you have left to lose?

[Verse 4: Conway]
Yeah, we in the trenches with the addicts and the hookers
When I ain't know how to whip it, passed the spatula to my cooker
Gave the ratchet to my lookers, we robbin' drug dealers
Wavin' sticks, empty clips, we bring the malice to the pushers
The havoc to the trappers, got a package, then we took it
Tell them rappers we got fully automatics if you push us (We got them sticks, nigga)
And if you static, I'ma patch in with the Butcher
Far as rap, we made it hard for a faggot to overlook us
Yeah, went to my old block and parked the Masi' on it
Stick on the backseat case anybody want it (What's the problem, nigga?)
Two thousand on my feet, that's just how I be on it
We don't respect your gun if ain't no body on it, huh
You see Conway performin', know a shotty on him
I still get a brick and do karate on it
These niggas hatin' but that's not important
I just hop in foreign (Yeah)
Watches got forty pointers like I was Jordan, Machine

[Chorus: Guordon Banks]
Stand tall and face all your fears
Hold your head and wipe all your tears
Many nights, will be nobody there
You gotta promise yourself you never give up
You gotta jump (You gotta jump)
You gotta jump (You gotta jump)
You gotta jump
Tell me what do you have left to lose?

Bilal
Bilal
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