Jim Jones - Pour WaxLyrics

Yeah, you pour wax on the table, uh huh, and you set it on fire Uh, yeah, you know This that dope boy shit, nigga Ya smell me, fuck wit ya Your reign on the top, short like leprechauns I came through in drops, Porches and heavy charms And I came from the block, was flawless with ex-cons And we aimin' them glocks, of course, ready to bomb Now I done seen a custy cop four pies of the same gear I also seen a nigga cop four rides in the same year The concrete jungle, no trees to swing from This weed and gettin' drunk and heaters gettin' dumped Or hit the highway, nigga, key's up in the trunk Back up in the city with some skeezers in the trunk I ain't a player but I do my dirt, dawg Drop top 'Cedes better move when it murk off I got it swayin' to the left lane Plus a nigga coughin' 'cause the haze give me chest pain Yes, mothafucka, the boys are back with my vest And I'm tucked up with my boys in back, fucka You don't want it with them niggas While you haters steady bitchin', my niggas gettin' richer Bet you're mad 'cause we ballin', bet you're mad 'cause we scorin' If he get outta line, put his punk ass in the coffin Nigga, we the regime, Byrdgang, we the truth Even four in sedan, I'm swervin' in the coupe Oak wood in interior, suede on the roof Now shoot back, now shoot back Ah man, Hell Rell, he on the same bullshit again Same black hoodie, ya same fo' fifth again Bitches stop likin' me but now they on my dick again See me in that Aston with my chain glistenin' Yeah, I'm bustin' off the chrome, yeah, I'm 'bout to off your dome Kill a mother and a father, kids go to foster homes Yeah, I like to floss the chrome, nigga, leave the boss alone See my neck and my wrist, I'm rockin' with a cost for homes Homie, they don't call me Ruger for nothin' Back out on these bitch niggas, get that Ruger to dumpin' So don't run up on me, nigga, you know I stay with it G'd up from my beef and brocks, to the Oakland A's, fitted That's the bottom to the top, you seen the bottom of the pot I got it white, I got it tan, it's either you coppin' or you not Nigga, jets is pullin' off and you stuck on the curb D I P, be G, fuck what you heard You don't want it with them niggas While you haters steady bitchin', my niggas gettin' richer Bet you're mad 'cause we ballin', bet you're mad 'cause we scorin' If he get outta line, put his punk ass in the coffin Nigga, we the regime, Byrdgang, we the truth Even four in sedan, I'm swervin' in the coupe Oak wood in interior, suede on the roof Now shoot back, now shoot back We all strapped in the ride, I ain't talkin' like the elderly Yak when we drive, like we rollin' fuckin' felony Trap to survive, get the buck, sellin' keys, it's hard to get by That's why we puff hella weed But if this high don't come down I feel the walls 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, that bent that dude like Spyder 430 with the bluish lights Got the coupe, bright, but we still shoot dice For my niggas on the Eastside, this is true life You don't want it with them niggas While you haters steady bitchin', my niggas gettin' richer Bet you're mad 'cause we ballin', bet you're mad 'cause we scorin' If he get outta line, put his punk ass in the coffin Nigga, we the regime, Byrdgang, we the truth Even four in sedan, I'm swervin' in the coupe Oak wood in interior, suede on the roof Now shoot back, now shoot back