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Cam'ron - Come Home with Me Album Lyrics



Cam'ron - Come Home with Me Lyrics






Intro

[Voiceover]
Welcome to Purple Haze, previously written 2001

2, 0-4, 76, they wired my mom
Couple weeks prior to Ja
Must've been the year of
Murderous killas
Murderers that murder and kill for scrilla
O.G.'s wit herb that guerilla, then turn
Mathemiticians, subtraction, addition
Division - to the packs and the cracks in the kitchen
Multiplication, rocks that I slash - precision
I gave a little more, few addicts were bitchin'
But in Harlem you get smacked up for livin'
That was a given, Rock the hood
Pop the hood - Gats in the engine
Clap up your women, accurate vision
Black, I'm just livin'
I'm the bomb but bombs get wrapped up in ribbons (Shiiiit)
This the fact from the fiction, packs that I'm pitchin'
Cats in Maximum Prisons rattin and snitchin
Cuz when Feds come, Niggaz mouths run
But the outcome, gon' be 'bout guns
Cuz I don't bitch, and I don't snitch
I work hands on, f*ck wit Cam'Ron
Cause I kept the -
Grams in the boot, Damn, I would shoot
But fam I would soup, thought Cam was too cute
To stand on the stoop (What I look like?)
My Spanish recruit, outlandish wit loot
We got obsessed wit Miami, cannons, and coupes
Baskin & Robbin', I'm laughin & poppin
It's all for Bloodshed tho, I haven't forgotten
From the - night to the days, my triflin ways
I'ma bring that platinum plaque right to your grave (Dog)
You chill in the lobby, you feelin this probably
You know me well, tear in your eye, chill in your body
Take it in stride, let's bake up these pies
Harlem, no homo, hop on and take this ride
To the top of the mountain
Bout to get this shit poppin' and bouncin'
Now that I'm down, the Roc is surroundin (Feel me?)
Afford all the best, ??
Down wit the Roc, but I'm Lord of my set (Dipset)
I know you niggaz hate it
How I got Jimmy out of 5H, and my dog, Zeke situated
Santana is next..
[echo out]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: David Camron
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid




Losing Weight, Pt. 2

[ Featuring Juelz Santana ]

Aiyyo, f*ck losing weight
I'm back on these highways moving cakes
Life's based upon what I'ma do today
Cop a car, new estate
Na, f*ck it get the beef and rocks blue and grey
Baby do the date
I got ta move an eighth
F*ck the scrutiny
Y'all niggas screwin me
Killa never let the drama slide
Y'all gone hear a nigga momma die
Yell out homicide

Eighteen months please, that ain't facing time
I'm stressed anyway, need it for vacation time
I'ma do the right thing though, take shock anyway
Six months right back on the damn block anyway
But look, money from across the street
Think its sweet, think you get money across the street
Me and my peeps often meet
At 5-0 they work for us, walk the beef
Walk with heat cause talk is cheap
So dunn stay silent
Revolvers, Automatics, guns stay silent
When it comes to beef it becomes a talent
Remember me, ODB, I'm the one from falice
Digital ten, shit get critical friend
I got 800 invisible men
That mean it could be the bankman
Person at the gas station filling up your tank, fam
Lady at the front stand
Or rap poison your relish right in the center babe

Bitch is a renegades, she'll piss in your lemonade
And y'all dead now
That you can bet now
Do like a toaster put your bread down
Upset now, hate when I gotta rep clowns blow Tech rounds
In a collision, I see their ambition
But they don't know them days when I was stooped up in prison
Or all them hot summers when I was cooped up in the kitchen
When it came to grams it was 90 I fried
350 on the stove and its 90 outside
I'ma get this girl that be stuff in my bricks
Felt life cheated her, she be cuttin her wrists

Her mom died, heroin overdose stuffed her wrist
Father f*ckin her, older man f*ckin her sis
But love my music, say I do nothing but hits
She'll do anything for me, nothing but hits
Cause when she needed help I got her nothing but fixed
Needed coke, needed dope, ya I gave her a fix
So she went across the street, gave him a kiss
Stuck her toungue out, flirted, played with his dick
You know Cam, he said "yeah, don't play with his chips"
Stood back, blazed the 6, amazin and shit
Killa, Killa, Dip Set nigga

F*ck losing weight
We back on these highways moving cakes
Life's based upon what I'ma do today
I think my moms moving away
Yeah, I think I'ma cop me that new estate
Baby do the date
I got to move an eighth
F*ck the scrutiny
Y'all niggas screwin me
Juelz never let the cops get me
On the block til the shots hit me
Until the shots get me

Niggas wanna know why I'm so nice when it come to spittin that fire
Its real dog, I live in the fire
Used to being in the streets homie, in the mists of the fire
Break works put it in pots, sit it in fire
Quick to grab the 5th and just fire
Try to peel off, I'm hittin your tire
Hittin your door while your cars spinnin hittin the wall
That's just the beginning of war
I let you know you dealing with dogs
My villians will finish you off
Head in your chest brain
Dead on the van on the express way
While I got my hand in the Tech wave
Niggas like "f*ck, is he stupid?"
Cops wanna cuff me, do it

You wanna be a hero, snuff me, do it, rush me, do it
Shit, like I ain't been through the scars and bruises
Like I ain't been through the bars, seen the sargaent trooper
Look at my body, I lost so much weight
Cops raiding my spot, I done lost so much weight
I'm tellin papi front me a brick, let me owe that cake
He tellin me, he ain't got but so much weight
He been waiting for his connection to come
I'm like "at least give me a half, I'll confess and stretch it to one"
I'm on the block as usual
With that block that you chop and the rocks as usual
Watching for the cops that's moving through
Me and my soldiers know the rules
We use cakes to get by, by the dudes in blue
Keep your mouth locked, screwed and glued
Or shots from the rugger will circle round your body like hoola-hoops
Mami told me son, hold your own
And one day your gone grow to be a rolling stone
And I believed her
Juelz never let the cops get me
On the block til the shots hit me

Aiyyo, f*ck losing weight
I'm back on these highways moving cakes
Life's based upon what I'ma do today
Cop a car, new estate
Na, f*ck it get the beef and rocks blue and grey
Baby do the date
I got ta move an eighth
F*ck the scrutiny
Y'all niggas screwin me
Killa never let the drama slide
Y'all gone hear a nigga momma die
Yell out homicide

F*ck losing weight
We back on these highways moving cakes
Life's based upon what I'ma do today
I think my moms moving away
Yeah, I think I'ma cop me that new estate
Baby do the date
I got to move an eighth
F*ck the scrutiny
Y'all niggas screwin me
Juelz never let the cops get me
On the block til the shots hit me
Until the shots get me
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CAMERON GILES, DARRELL BRANCH, JOSEPH B. JEFFERSON, CHARLES B. SIMMONS, RICHARD ROEBUCK, A. JOHNSON
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Oh Boy

(feat. Juelz Santana)

[Intro: Cam'ron]
Just blaze (Oh Baby) oh baby, uh, killa

[Verse 1: Cam'ron]
All the girls see the (Boy) look at his kicks (Boy)
Look at this car (Boy) all I say is (Oh Boy)
Look mami I'm no good I'm so hood
Clap at your soldiers sober then leave after it's over
Killa, I'm not your companion or your man standin
Hit me when you wanna get rammed in, I'll be scramblin
With lot's of mobsters shop for lobsters
Cops and robbers listen every block is blocka (Blocka!!!)
But she like the way I diddy bop you peeped that
Mink on maury kicks plus chanel ski hat
She wan't the (Boy) so I give her the (Boy)
Now she screamin out (Boy, Boy, Boy, Boy)
Now she playin with herself Cam dig it out lift her up
Ma it's just a f*ck girl get it out pick on up
They wan't the boy Montana with guns with bandanas
Listen to my homeboy Santana

[Verse 2: Juelz Santana]
Y'all niggas can't f*ck with the (Boy) I'm tellin ya (Boy)
Put a shell in ya (Boy) now he bleedin (Oh Boy)
Get him call his (Boy) he weezin he need his (Boy)
He screamin (Boy, Boy, Boy, Boy)
Damn shut up (Boy) he's snitchin (Oh Boy)
This niggas bitchin (Boy) he's twistin (Oh Boy)
If feds was listenin (Boy) damn, whoa, damn....
I'm in trouble need bail money, shit
Where the f*ck is my (Boy) I got trust for my (Boy)
That's why I buck for my (Boy) that's my nigga (Oh Boy)
He 'gone get his (Boy) he got love for his (Boy)
That's my (Boy, Boy, Boy, Boy)

[Verse 3: Cam'ron]
When he got caught with the (Boy) we went to court for the (Boy)
Just me and my (Boy) and we sayin (Oh Boy)
Be on the block with my (Boy) with the Roc fella (Boy)
When the cops come......squalin!!!!
Yeah this is for the sports cars, Benitas, Jimmy's
PJ's, old school, eighteenth at the sports bar
Eight or nine on the (Boy) holla at your boy
Killa...holla....listen, it's the D-I-P (Boy)
Plus the R-O-C (Boy) you'll be D-O-A (Boy)
Your moms will say (Oh Boy)
Shit, ain't no stoppin 'em guns we got alot of 'em
Matter fact guroos start poppin 'em
Then slap up his (Boy) clap up his (Boy)
Wrap up his (Boy) get them gats (Oh Boy)
Diplomats are them (Boy) for the girls and the (Boy)
Say (Boy, Boy, Boy, Boy)

[Verse 4: Juelz Santana]
Now when they see Cam and his (Boy) they say damn (Oh Boy)
Santana's that (Boy) that squeeze hammers (Oh Boy)
Canons and bandanas glammers we don't brandish
Blam at your man's canvas then scram with your man's leaded
And I'm back with my (Boy)

[Cam'ron]
Until that man is vanished away in the Grand Canyon
These kids are grand standin
niggas demand randsome over them grands scramblin (Boy, Boy, Boy, Boy)
Well f*ck it Van Dam 'em Cam a blam blam 'em
Call up his (Boy) I'm down south tannin
Mami I got the remedy Tommy's I bet the enemy
Hire me somebody but now my body your feelin like fanicky
Killa and Coppa we chill in Morocco for reela
We got what you chill it though and fill with them holla's, huh
It's the (Boy) I said it's the (Boy)
I'm the (Boy, Boy, Boy, Boy) Killa....




[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CAMERON GILES, GREG GREEN, SEON THOMAS, TYRONE FYFFE
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Live My Life (Leave Me Alone)

[ Featuring Daz Dillinger ]

Now that I'm here niggaz want to wrap the ROC up
Nah, backslash wrap the rocks up, back the block up
Cop killers, clap at coppers, blast at choppers
Pass the vodka, listen, don't ever mention Dash or Hoffa
It's a Harlem thing dog, you'll clash with Mobsters (uptown)
Remember me? Got jumped on TNT (what's beef?)
Next week, back pump TNT (what's beef?)
All my niggaz got M-16's kid
And all we do is watch MTV Cribs
Learn not to in fury the victim
Purially stick 'em, break through your security system (KILLA)
Stop frontin', you was never a menace
Never a hustla, NO, we could never do business
Business is business, money is money
Hustle is hustle, stupid is stupid
You da dumbest of dummies (Killa)

[Chorus]
Leave me alone, let me just live my live, ah
Just leave me alone, leave me alone
Let me just live my life ah
That's the sound of the police

All I do every day dog, blunt after blunt
Stunt after stunt, they all (?) after (?)
Like that I'm Shiesty, look at my shoes, like my Nikes
Know that I got a girl, like my wifey, like that I'm rude
Come here, let me pick with your chest, dick on your breast
All they say "That nigga's a mess"
You heard me fam? All worthy of this dirty man
Take it in your ass? How about 30 grams ma'?
Go upstate, come back downstate, next time around me
You might get a poundcake, (screw that bitch)
F*ck it up, she understand that I might slap her
I'll me damned if I work for some white cracker (shit)
White batter, prize in the pack, fiends love
They hug it, call it Cracker Jacks, KILLA
Where the crack is at, watch me get dem dice
Throw 'em on, let me live my life

[Chorus]
Leave me alone, let me just live my live, ah
Just leave me alone, leave me alone
Let me just live my life ah
That's the sound of the police

[Verse 3]
F*ck life as a rap star, you dealing with crack gods
Cookin' the crack hard, lead the crack jars
All of the chips, the crib with the backyard
Pull out the gat pa, a bar, and black cars
And I'm scary with the 5th, compare me to a gift
Yellow diamonds, ganerrie on my wrist, just juice
Get wet up and waive, that'll be the day, killa cam
Mess up some yeah (shit), thug niggaz be on point
And game time, cop a brick, and re-up in the same night
And to get that trife, I flick that knife, doggy dog
Let me live my life

[Chorus]
Leave me alone, let me just live my live, ah
Just leave me alone, leave me alone
Let me just live my life ah
That's the sound of the police

The block is hot, niggaz tell me to feel it
Know when I get out they gon feel it
Witness the realest
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: DELMER ARNAUD, BODIE CHANDLER, ALAN LOMAX, ERIC VICTOR BURDON, LAWRENCE PARKER, TUPAC SHAKUR, CAMERON GILES, RODNEY LEMAY, LARRY R. GATES
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Daydreaming

[Intro]
Day dreaming and I'm thinking of you [x4]

Look at my mind
Floating away

[Cam'Ron]
I know f*ckin' with a crook is whack
I lied cheated still took me back
What I do, turn around, ask you to cook me crack
Boost my work with a jerk and tell the truth it hurts
Cause you even ask me to come through to church
What I do, act second rate
I stole ten dollars out of the collection plate
But I'm ready to change
You got my heart, plus you smart
And the sex is great
And you hate rap
I like that girl
I argue with Keisha, I aint like that girl
You jumped, right out the car, to fight that girl
You be that (?) you aint have to bite that girl
And my baby got the best thighs
And my whip she aint never got to test drive
Copped here up, at five
You paid attention when no one acknowledge me
This is my public apology, Holla B

[Chorus]
Hey baby lets get away lets go somewhere ah
Baby, can we
We can get the drop top or come through on the bike
We could go where you want we could do what you like tonight
Hey baby lets get away lets go somewhere ah
Baby, can we (where you wanna go)
Where Italy, what Sicily, tell me girl, Disney world

[Tiffany]
He's the kind of guy that would say he baby lets get away
Lets go some place oh
Where I don't, care
He's the kind of guy that will give it everything and trust your heart
Share all of your love, till death do you part
I wanna be what he wants, when he wants it
Whenever he needs it
When your lonesome and feeling love start I'll be there to feed it
Loving him a little bit more each day
Fears are at hold when I hear him say

[Chorus]

You helped me work when we was twelve and a half
You said Cam, what the f*ck dog, we twelve and a half
That house cost millions, twelve and a half
But I still got them (?), twelve in the stash
You can't even get mad
Say what the hell just laugh
Standin' there beautiful like what I'm gon do with you
You wanted me to go to school and just play ball
What I do, go to school with that (?)-ball
Here come the (?), here come the (?)
Yeah I dealt that, I'm a hustla though
I can't help that
You was there when I flipped my first birds
Now we gon see my son take his first words
And um, absurd, I aint wanna be no singer ma
I just wanted eight carrots on your finger ma
Since were young, you thug me I thugged you
You hug me, I hugged you
You love me, I love you

[Chorus]

I wanna be what he wants, when he wants it
Whenever he needs it
When your lonesome and feeling love start I'll be there to feed it
Loving him a little bit more each day
Fears are at hold when I hear him say

[Chorus x2]

Day dreaming and I'm thinking of you [x14]
Look at my mind
Floating away

You got me dreaming, (dreaming of you, yeah) day dreaming
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ARETHA FRANKLIN
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, SPRINGTIME MUSIC INC




Come Home With Me

(feat. Jim Jones, Juelz Santana)

[Cam'ron talking]
Aiyo, come on home wit us man Harlem World U.S.A. man
Take a walk wit us on our block man, See how we live, DIP SET!

[Cam'ron]
Yo, yo, Come on home wit me, early '90's it wasn't pearly and shiney
I was so damn grimey
'Cause I ain't have no fresh clothes
Or jewelry wit the X's O's
My house had espestoes
I'm fixin' up a 60 pack, wit a kitty cat
Mice run around the damn sticky trap
Come on home wit me, where my mother found my crack platter
Threw it away so I snapped at her, back slapped her
She picked up a bat, like McGwuier for that matter
Hit me, I was back at her
Come home where I duck the DT's
Line around the corner, but I'm gettin' the free cheese
Come on home wit me, where I stand on my post
Play wit my toast, Been here wit mayonaise and toast
And pepper, many nights I done slept wit a heefer
Any beef came it left on a stretcher KILLA!
Come on home wit me, where they rapidly flossin'
Where I begged Kim to have the abortion
Money, brown bag, extortion
Caution, where there's tragedy often
Relax in a coffin
And the bitch know I'm serious
'Cause I'm never scared ma, unless you miss ya period
So come home wit me
Where the girls wanna come home wit me
They say "Cam if you need dome hit me!"
Love to see the chrome wit me
The car a quarter mil, on the wheels I done blown 50
Dice games blown 50, Jones loan 60
Had crack stones swiftly, Took it home wit me
So come home wit me, where a nigga make star bucks
I'm about to cop a +Starbucks+
I'm the first one wit hard luck
Now I'm at the dealer buying cars...trucks
AWWWWW SHUCKS!

[Juelz Santana]
Yo come home wit me
To the streets, the slums, the ghettoes
That's come to me
Every night my girl crying "Come home to me"
No! Come home wit me
Where there's so many cops that the block is boiling
The food is spoiled, but that pot wit the rock is boiling
Same pot mommy cook wit, left the oil in
Come home wit me, where these bitches is frauds
Niggas don't listen to broads
They have you sittin' in court wit kids that ain't yours
Come home wit me, where every day the glocks go pop
Where the front door is broke, and them locks don't lock
Come home wit me, dog where the beef is seekin'
Kid's don't trick or treat, they get +tricked+ for +treating+
Come home wit me, where the pistols squeezing
Where niggas twist the cheekin, ripped to pieces are kids get even
Come home wit me, don't leave ya condoms behind
'Cause bitches leave them martians behind
Pray to God that I'm fine
Come on home wit me, come on zone wit me
Come on walk through this cold city
Where these kids need food
Niggas need God, and some bitches need rules
Come on home wit me, where niggas livin' off they last buck
Phonies off, rentings backed up
Come on home wit me, niggas strap up
Hit the streets gats up
Clap up, and get they money back up
Come on home wit me, every block got a crack in it
Every hallway gotta a nigga wit some crack in it
So don't get trapped in it

[Jim Jones]
Come on home wit me, where my parents wit um...
Leave me alone
So early I was free to just rome
Wit 7 keys to the home
11 trees to the dome
13 I ran the streets wit the chrome
Come on home wit me, where the buses don't run
And my dog stay bustin his gun
Think that gettin' caught by justices is fun
Keep a blade up in they gums
This is Harlem, where the f*ck is you from?
Uh, come on home wit me every few minutes was a knock on the door
Fiends come coppin' the raw
Clothes, kicks, socks on the floor
Mommy like "Be quiet because I really think them cops at the door!"
There's some locks on the door
Come on home wit me, grandmothers is 30
One gram on that butter is 30
Sold grams wit my cousin birdy
School, cutting it early
Don't stutter motherf*ckers you heard me
Come on home wit me, these are the facts
Steve Francis and Latifah got jacked
Mike Tyson punched Mitch Green in the face
Sauce snatched by the feds, weed was the case
And shit he still pleading his case
Come home wit me, hoes say "let's jones wit you"
But I wouldn't take them home wit you
Come home wit me, get stoned wit me
Get zoned wit me, the crome you see
Dip set come home wit me

Uh...Dip Set nigga, Jim Jones, Killa!
Freakey Zeekey, Juelz Santana




[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: GREG GREEN, SEON THOMAS, GEORGE CLINTON, J JONES, CAMERON GILES, TYRONE FYFFE, LARON JAMES
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.




Welcome To New York City

[Jay-Z] Turn the motherf*cking music up
[Cam'Ron] Just Blaze, man. You owe me nigga
[Jay-Z] Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Welcome to the Empire State.
Home of the World Trade. Birthplace of Michael Jordan.
Home of Biggie Smalls. Roc-A-Fella headquaters.
Ladies and gentlemen, Killa Cam, Young Hov is definitely in the building
Brooklyn, Harlem World
(Welcome to New York City, welcome to New York City)
Stand the f*ck up!

[Jay-Z]
I'm a B.K. brawler
Marcy projects hallway loiterer
Pure coke copper, get your order up
I bring em to Baltimore in the Ford Explorer
It's gonna cost you more if I gotta get em to Florida
Rucker game attender
With the bent pole on the sidewalk with the tin plates on the fender
I ain't hard to find you catch me frontin center
At the Knick game, big chain and all my splender
Next to Spike and the pen left to write
I own Madison Square, catch me at the fight
But damn once again if you pan left at the ice
If you the man that write checks with the hand that don't write
I go off the head when I'm rambling on the mic
And I go off the feds when I'm srambling at night
And if its off the set I brought hammers to the fight
But we from New York City, right Cam?
([Cam:] Ya damn right)

[Chorus: Juelz Santana]
It's the home of 9-11, the place of the lost towers
We still banging, we never lost power, tell em
Welcome to New York City, welcome to New York City
Y'all f*ckin with BK's banger and Harlem's own gangster
Now that's danger theres nothing left to shape up
Welcome to New York City, welcome to New York City

[Cam'Ron]
Yo, theres a war going on outside no man is safe from
It don't matter if you three feet or eight-one
You'll get eight from me, nine and straight blown
Wig split, melon cracked, all that on day one
Carry eight guns, two in the trunk
Two in the waist, two in the ankle, two to just spank you
You can jam with them jammers, blam with them blammers
It's hot here, ask Mase he ran to Atlanta
You think we know what life do, make wanna mold the cycle
Drinkers they so delightful, blinging with so much ice
In front of sparks, body cops Dilano
Block away watch by Gotti and Girvano
It's la costra nostra, someone close approach ya
They'll toast ya gopher, bread loaf with shofer
Old coke they raise up and snort, blayze up ya fort
Jay puff shine, cases was caught
Midnight pick fights, they love a victim
Watch him fore he watch you, Killa

[Chorus: Juelz Santana]
It's the home of 9-11, the place of the lost towers
We still banging, we never lost power, tell em
Welcome to New York City, welcome to New York City
Y'all f*ckin with BK's banger and Harlem's own gangster
Now that's danger theres nothing left to shape up
Welcome to New York City, welcome to New York City

[Cam'Ron]
I'm from 101, west to Hunt 40th, this shit is live
Fifth-floor, 56, you know the zip, district five
You're on 22nd, you from two-one
Thats on Lennox, 7th ave was news one

[Jay-Z]
Coverage I synethestry
Got rise from defending me
Cause New York'll miss me if I'm locked in the penitentary
The judge said "Is this that thug, from the kit kat club?"
But I got enough chips stacked up to make a bitch to pack up

[Cam'Ron]
Killa, I pinch that button, I grip that snub to hit that thug
Lay up in a pitch black tug,
You lookin at rich black thugs to get that love
And we won't stop til I get back blood
Holla at em Hov

[Jay-Z]
I'm from Flushing, Marcy, Notia, Myrtle and Park
Niggas'll drive by in the day, murder you in the dark
Thats why the Johnny gun I'm holding
Wet niggas up like the johnny-pump is open
Homie, I play hard

[Chorus: Juelz Santana]
It's the home of 9-11, the place of the lost towers
We still banging, we never lost power, tell em
Welcome to New York City, welcome to New York City
Y'all f*ckin with BK's banger and Harlem's own gangster
Now that's danger theres nothing left to shape up
Welcome to New York City, welcome to New York City

[Cam'Ron]
Yall niggas man, yall can't f*ck around man
It's the ROC bitch, Killa, my nigga Jigga, Sigel, Beans
Diplomats man, holla, Dash
Get the f*ck off our dicks
I own this shit right now man, I ain't going nowhere

Welcome to New York City!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CAMERON GILES, SHAWN CARTER, JUSTIN SMITH
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.




Hey Ma

[Cam'Ron (woman):]
Hey ma (whassup?) Let's slide (all right)
All right - and we gon' get it on tonight
You smoke? (I smoke) I drink (me too)
Well good - cause we gon' get high tonight
Got drops (got coups) got trucks (got jeeps)
All right - cause we gon' take a ride tonight
So ma (whassup?) Let's slide (all right)
All right - and we gon' get it on tonight

[Cam'Ron:]
Now that I got a girl my ex wanna holla and shit
Told me to acknowledge her quick
She said Cam stop frontin, on that Dave Hollister shit
Come over let me swallow the dick
I'm like momma is sick I promise you dick
Usually I have a problem with chicks
They all say I'm rotten and rich
But not her, booby's real, high heel dooby feel
Plus she got them Gucci nails, uh
You a cutie still
And this my down ho too, ain't no groupie deal
We left the movies with uzis, Suzuki wheels
To the jacuzzi, a coochie and booty feel (right)
Stuck her tongue in my butt
Then I woke up she like we f*ckin' or what? (uh)
Get the f*ck in the truck we can f*ck in the truck
Well f*ck it up nah it's nuttin' but nut now
I'm up in her guts
And after I'm done I had to nut in the cup (uh)
Now I'm breakin the dutch lightin a L flipped up the
cell had to call up L
Yo L (what up) I f*ck (what else) got head (say word)
And we got it on tonight

[chorus]

[Juelz Santana:]
Yo now I was downtown clubbin ladies night
Seen shorty she was crazy right
And I approach baby like "Ma, what's your age and
type?"
She looked at me and said "Youse a baby right?"
I told her "I'm 18 and live a crazy life
Plus I'll tell you what the 80's like
And I know what ladies like
Need a man that's polite, listens and takes advice
I could be all three, plus I can lay the pipe
Come with me come stay the night"
She looked at me laughin; like boy your game is tight
I'm laughin back like sho' you right get in the car
And don't touch nuttin, sit in the car
Let's discuss somethin either we f*ckin' or I'll see
you tommorow
Now we speedin up the Westside
Hand creepin up her left side, I'm ready to do it
Ready to bone, ready for dome
55th exit, damn, damn, already we home
Now let's get it on

[chorus]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Laron L. James, Lionel B. Jr. Richie, Cameron Giles, Darryl Pittman
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Spirit Music Group




On Fire Tonight

[Cam'ron] Wake yo a** up
You know I'm looking for a ho
[Zeek] Word?
[Cam'ron] I found a ho
[Zeek] And?
[Cam'ron] And the ho ... ended up being a ho
[Zeek] Chu doing?
[Cam'ron] My man zeek always told me a hoes gon b a ho
Let a hoe fly
Let the birds f****n' fly
Let em fly right zeek?
[Zeek] They f*****g fly away...
[Verse:]
I need a girl who can sing like Celina
A** like Trina
Tits like Janet
Get beat like Tina
Have u seen her?
I mean, caked like Oprah
chauffeur...
Keep the toast in the toaster
Tell me have you seen her?
I did...
Yeah I found one
A little brown one
Then she down son
Cuz she pushed the beamer
I should have knew something was up from the jump
When I passed ma the blunt
The b***h was a steamer
I aint kiddin i had weed to blow
I aint feed the ho
We took a trip to Argentina
I dont know why i died
But pours i went fours inside the wh*re
I found she wasnt cleaner
Dirty b***h burnt me
That concerned me
Now I'm thirsty
I'm looking for a looking meaner
I'm gonna kill her when I see her
So tell me, have u seen her?
Tell me, have u seen her?

[chorus]
It's the girls with the pretty face
And the pretty rides
Pretty thighs
But what about the insides?
And that b***h is a liar and dike, I took the condom off and now it's on fire tonight...
It's the girls with the pretty face
And the pretty rides Pretty thighs, but what about the insides?
And that b***h is a liar and dike, I took the condom off and now it's on fire tonight...

[Verse:]
It's like treat her like a prostitute
Don't treat no girlie good don't show her yo loot
Girl i see u riding wanna roll in the coo
See you with ice cream
Want to go for a scoop
I don't get mad
Tell her to blow on my flute
Before the i.e. you got it thrown on your crew
Droopy, sad, i read it, whooee I'm glad u done it
Sue me, what chu mad I said it?
From front back side to side
Never let a broke a** female ride
I learned that down south from n***as in Texas
Before I drink up I big up big guesses
Imagine me get up against this
Get her a Lexis
You're figuring ... reckless
Baby I'm sexist
So back up, let me strap up before you give
Cam that clap up I'm gon have to clack up
[Zeek speaking]
And why that nigga still going broke?
This is for my n***as out there that DO use a condom
For the first night...
Then go brawl all the other times
Where the psychological sense in that playa?
You need to wash your face, get your mind right
Girls up here is burning
B***h burnt the braids off my n***a the other week....
Yeah, yeah, I know what to do
I'm gonna get the p***y ATM started
Before anything happens your gotta swipe your p***y across this board
Let you know what's going on
What type of temperature you running
Cuz I can't stand n***as running out here to the clinic sitting down talking bout 'I aint
nuttin Zeek, I'm over here gettin condoms'
N***a, I seen you break the door down running to the nurse talking bout help me, help ME
You damn right imma help you
Imma hang your stupid a** right in front of the damn clinic

[Chorus in background]
The hell you gon come running 'my girls got a venereal disease Huh! her p***y lighting up like a light bulb...'
Talking about a light bulb...
Sh**
A light bulb?
Tell you what, engineer, venereal decease is going on down there
It's crazy...
Ladies is crazy
I'm gonna write a book on how stupid n***as is

[Chorus]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: EUGENE RECORD, BARBARA ACKLIN, TYRONE FYFFE, CAMERON GILES, JAMES MTUME
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.




Stop Calling

(feat. Freaky Zeekey, McGruff)

(Yo, pass me that phone)
[Cam:] Hello?
[Guy:] Yo, yo, can I speak to Cam?
[Cam:] F*ck is this B? State ya name
[Guy:] Yo, yo, hello yo, you don't know me
O nothing like that, though dog
But Yaknawhamsayin'? I keep it gully though
Ad shit like that though dog
But I'm tryin', KnawhaImean?
[Cam:] Hold up, hold up, hold up calm down man.
You keep it gully and all this? What's going on
what's your name fam?
[Guy:] Doggie, doggie, you don't know me doggie.
Nggaz, niggaz just stay the f*ck from my girl and shit
You know what I'm sayin? My nigga gutter told me and shit dog
I'm tryin' find out, though wat's poppin' and shit man, word up
Y'all niggaz f*ck with my girl yall niggaz better tell me
Tell me or something B, word up
[Cam:] Tell Mya, and tell you? Calm, you're not even talking right dog
I mean who's your girl?
[Guy:] Yo doggie, yo doggie you playin' games?
You playin' games doggie?
When I catch you doggie, it ain't gonna be so f*cking funny doggie
Y'all niggaz think it's all sweet, right?
You running around f*cking niggaz girls like that shit's to do
you think that shit's to do? That shit ain't gully doggie
I'ma catch you, word up [screaming, phone clicks]
[Cam:] Niggaz is f*cking crazy

[guy talks over beat]

[Cam'ron]
Well, I'ma tell you straight up, homeboy cause it's a cold world
Your wife, I call her "Oh girl" her head makes my toes curl
And she awfully thick, help me get off these bricks
Coffee kick, but after I bust, I be like "Get the f*ck off me bitch"
If she front, bruise her in the ribs
But you hugged her, you loved her, moved her in the crib
Hit by cupid, stupid, why'd you do it? Why be bother?
Why you holla? Three babies, three baby fathers
Get wise kid, open your eyelids, cause that last abortion?
That was my kid, that's right, but that I ain't followin'
If she get pregnant again, it'd be from swallowin'
But once in a while I dive in it, that car you bought?
I be drivin' it, head while I'm drivin it
Said you like to lay up dog, and play footies
But she need a nigga with timbs, gats and straight hoodies

[Guy] I got timbs, dog

[Cam'ron]
Well..she said you gotta get drunk, and I could f*ck her better sober
You get 20 grams, and think you f*cking Erick Sosa
Better choke her, she the female Bill Clinton
Lie, Cheat and Smoke, you got her still sittin'
Then she bouncin' in, so you wanna pounce her in
She gas you up, "I love you, I swear to God we'll go to counseling"
I ain't cherish ya cutie, inherit the booty
Havin' her want to kill you like American Beauty Killa
Cause you a motherf*cking rest haven
I Put a gun to her head, paint a picture like Wes Craven
Ya chest achin', cause I'm very blunt, ya stunt, wanna cherry pump
Any extra kid, an extra check every month
She givin' Jimmy head, Jeulz in her guts
Dog, you feel in love wit a slut, What

[Chorus]
[Guy:] Aiyyo, what's up with my girl that's my world?
[Cam:] She a slut ho
[Guy:] That's my life, that's my wife I love her
[Cam:] Uh-oh, oh no, oh God
[Guy:] Aiyyo, what's up with my girl that's my world
[Cam:] She a slut ho
[Guy:] That's my live, that's my wife, I love her
[Cam:] Uh-oh, Oh no, Oh God, she a slut, she a freak

[Cam talking]
Aiyoo, you gonna call back right?
Matter fact I ain't even do ya bitch dirty, for real
I'ma let you holla at my man Gruff, he did her dirty for real
Yo, Gruff, tell us more about his f*cking ho

[McGruff]
Aiyoo, me and Cam caught her, on camcorder
Dogged her, kicked her out the O
Tell you about ya ho, she's a bitch
Came right between her lips
You thinking I'm frontin', she got a birth mark between her tits
And money, please stop calling niggaz phones harassin'
She come home, don't wanna f*ck, we boned her back in
You's a creep, and all do is use your freak
And when we done, we send her home for you to keep
You want beef? Punk faggot, we got stupid heat
Aiyoo, you acting like you gonna die over pussy
I ain't gonna front, I was hazed up, high in the pussy
Yo, she greet me on GP, you buyin' the pussy
Breathin hard on the other line, diein' to push me
Crime crime, sip fine wine, puff lime, lime
Laughing at the bitch on Primetime
Me and Killa for reala, all of the sudden you wanna be a Gorilla
Nigga please, I'm quick to put three in a nigga
You ain't nothing but a sucka for love
She got you thinking it's love
Hit her on the sink or in the tub
A little head crack, while a nigga drinkin' a bub
You be surprised what ya bitch could do
She did shit to us, she never did to you
That ho mad psychical, cheesy bitch

[Freaky Zeekey Talking]
Yo, give me the motherf*cking phone nigga
This stupid ass nigga coming around here
Dailing my number, how the f*ck he get the...
Listen nigga, ya BITCH ain't shit anyway
Her pussy no quality, and how the f*ck you gonna take
This motherf*cking ho to the Hotel?
She ain't nothin' but backseat, backshots
You talking about "Oh I wanna soak ya feet baby
I had a long day, I wanna make you feel right"
She just got finished soaking my dick in her mouth nigga
You put time in this ho, "Oh let me take her out Benihama's
Oh let me get some Lotion and ??"
Motherf*cker, I don't even know ya ho
She f*cked me off my man deal
F*ck is wrong with you nigga?
You runnin' around tryin get her some shit
I left my dick in this bitch
All my niggaz got ya ho, you taking 'bout
She tellin' me, you talkin' about
"It just slide right in right now"
You know why? Because big dicks up in her nigga
F*ck you think? It just ease in for you
And yo' bitch ain't shit, nigga
I done brought her to my house, f*cked her
"Oh, put it in my ass, no, no, no, no not ya dick, ya whole fist"
I turned around, my pop's dick in her mouth
What's goin' on with this bitch?




[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CAMERON GILES, TYRONE FYFFE
Copyright: Lyrics © Downtown Music Publishing




I Just Wanna

(feat. Juelz Santana)

[Chorus - (singing in the back)]

[Cam'Ron]
Killa, What we want uh I want ya'll to get the f*ck off my dick
for a minute ya know, Dip set, freaky, jones, santana, uh Harlem

[Verse 1: Cam'Ron]
Yo, Yo, Ayo
I just wanna come through ice in the crown
I just want the coke price to go down
I just wanna get a couple months, dog
Not like for these pounds
I just wanna have this orgy and these dikes to be down
Want dro when I'm chiefin
Want doe for some reason
Want hoes to stop coming over knowing they bleeding
I want head from east nava
I wanna get the benz at least dropper
Painted peach-cobbler
Want a girl who don't need prada
She could be a damn reeboker
Long as she freak proper
I'm only asking for Halle, Janet, Toni Braxton
Come over show ya homie action
I want em now I want em wild I wanna bone they back in
I wanna whip I wanna drop I wanna chrome reaction
You should know I'd give a kidney to ya'll
I want my women to shine I want my niggaz to ball
I want it all

[Chorus]

[Juelz]
Come on, Juelz, Dip Set killa killa, ya'll know what the f*ck I want

[Verse 2: Juelz Santana]
Yo, Yo
Yo, I just wanna get money
I just wanna get hoes
I just wanna smoke weed and o's
I just wanna get a million get low
I just wanna do a album , shit 4
I just wanna live rich not po
I just wanna be happy not stress
I just want my girl to know right now I'm not happy I'm stress
I just want the struggle to stop
But on this beat I don't wanna talk I just want the muzzle to pop
I don't want a job I just wanna hustle the Roc
I just love the way that coke fluff in the pot
I just want the coupe to be pretty
I just wanna cruise through the city
Baby, I just want ya ass to be fat
I just wanna play tag from the back
I just wanna go half on the sack
I just want my dick to fit in ya mouth
I just wanna sit in the house
I just wanna make music for my niggaz to bounce, come on

[Chorus]

[Cam and Juelz Talking]

[Verse 3]
[Cam'Ron]
I just want you to know you'll get slapped in ya face
I just wanna know what happened to mase
I just want him to know,
Rock dem jewels flash that chrome
Its all good you can come back home
If you want
[Juelz]
Ayo, I just want this paper to be straight
I just want this cake to hurry up and bake
So I can send it upstate
I just want my money back in a week
I just wanna get the f*ck out this studio and back in the streets
[Cam]
I just wanna f*ckin stop being aggie as hell
I just want head from Pattie Labelle
I just want when I'm stress when I'm vex
Want L to pass me the L
You don't want L to pass me the shells
It will get ugly
[Juelz]
I just want my moms to let me smoke weed in my home
I just want my nigga T to come home
I just want the v to be chorme
I just want these hoes to leave me alone
Come on, I want it all nigga

[Chorus till fade]




[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Cameron Giles, D. Hamilton, Laron L. James, Michael D'Angelo Archer, Raphael Saadiq, Tyrone Fyffe
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Memory Lane Music Group (Domestic)




Dead Or Alive

[Chorus x5]
Bring 'em Dead or Alive
Ah-oh no, bring 'em Dead or Alive

[Cam'Ron talking over the chorus]
Uh.. killa.. Dip Set.. Santana.. Freaky.. Jim Jones

[Verse 1]
Yo, yo, yo, the way I been treated in this industry? Not nicely
Little faggot motherf*cker like [Mike Lightly]
Tried to get someone to pop my chain
Getting robbed dog, is not my game
My nigga hopped out the van real quick, cocked that thang
Reversed the situation, popped his chain
Be happy we ain't pop his brain
Aiyoo, I treat that show money, Mike..
Like it's coke money, aight?
So you better have it, consequence could be a casket
I'm beyond forensic, a menace wit' a matic
I'ma leave 'em in the streets just splattered
Beat and battered, f*ck cops, police don't matter
Bring 'em to me

[Chorus x5]
Bring 'em Dead or Alive
Ah-oh no, bring 'em Dead or Alive

[Jim Jones talking over chorus]
Triple noooooo, Come on, Bs Up, Dip Set, uh

[Verse 2]
Yo, aiyyo I pop to my name
With not a dollar, not a cent, not a rock to my name
Yo I'ma keep it funky dog to hop my chain
For a block and cocaine, now it's back to my block and cocaine
You know, re-in up, and fillin' up them pots with cocaine
Then you chop it up, and bottle up and top the cocaine
Got watch for the cops and dey chains
For them diplomatic affairs, automatic'll flare
I whips everything from automatics to gears
Yeah, you know sticks I clutch 'em
Shots with 6 I bust em, cop kicks to scuff 'em
F*ck 'em, hop out the 6 and crush 'em
Hop in the 6 and dust 'em, BOOM

[Chorus x5]
Bring 'em Dead or Alive
Ah-oh no, bring 'em Dead or Alive

[Verse 3: Cam'Ron]
Yo.. aiyyoo, these niggaz talkin' shit?
They about to get hit with f*ckin' clips
You better let 'em know
I got girls that'll buy my a quarter
Supply me wit' water, beef come? Drive me to borders
Kamikazes wit' they hommies..body your daughter
Turn your whole crew into +Dodgers+ like +Tommy Lasorda+

[Verse 4: Jimmy Jones]
Yeah, come on
So you faggots have that money in order
Jim'll come through in wolves and let the hungry extort ya'
Now how is that for the drama suspense?
Any beef, our piranhas get sent
Kidnap your momma for rent
Hot shots from the beretta'll a fly
I'm breakin' bread with my guys, we want 'em dead or alive
Dip Set BOOM

[Chorus x5]
Bring 'em Dead or Alive
Ah-oh no, bring 'em Dead or Alive
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: TYLER JAMES, GERALD EATON, BRIAN WEST
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., SPIRIT /GLOBAL TALENT MUSIC




The Roc (Just Fire)

[ Featuring Memphis Bleek, Beanie Sigel ]

I wanna welcome you to Extravaganza
Something incredible that's about to take place
World renowned, Roc-A-Fella, holla

Yeah, yeah, niggas
Just Blaze in this shit, ya heard? (It's your main man)
I'm back niggas, holla (yo, yo)

My break I'm fresh off it
I never change, I'm stuck in these ways
Nike Airs, sweats and Taurus (uh)
But I'm-a do it for my enemies
They wanna end my chill, wanna see what that villa be
Now what that sound like?
Plus they know what a clip get down like
Turn bags from bladders, legs to wheels, pain and pills
'Cause you f*ckin' wit' a nigga that'll jump out, wave the steel
I live this way, it's real dawg, no joke
Blow smoke in your bitch face, piss on your wheels
Slap your custies, clap your worker, dead the strip
Stick your connect, yap your bitch
So let it be known, I'm back for my grizzly
The Sergeant, the Cap, the MAC holds sixty
For rookies and vets, I'll bang 'til it click (click)
So run and tell your duela the Ruger come wit' two clips, dawg
M-easy, won't leave, my hood need me
Pop fa' sheezy, who don't believe me?
We all criminals but live like a Diplomat
We get low, when the dough low, get it back

Here is something you can't understand
How I could just kill a man for Killa Cam
Me and my Roc killa fam, top billers man (man)
We run the spot, drop ceilings, fam (fam)
Hit the wall, drop ceiling fans (uh)
Listen boy, man I show you how to fill a van
Up with killers, man, and line the trunk
Keep a stash box for the nine and the pump
The coach walk you through and he grind you up
What you want the dope or the weed?
How you want it packaged? In the cap or the bag?
How you want me packin'? Wit' the MAC or the Mag?
Yeah, that Bent get back, but listen scrap, act real fast
And keep a wack that'll gag your back
Block style from your swagger, your swacks
It's the Broad Street Bully bitch
Bully niggas on the broadest streets
I house niggas on the narrowest block
Know my rules when the barrel get hot
When the gun blows and the shots fall and the smoke clear
Man, I be hearin' you were murdered (you ain't here)
Nobody hit up in the cross 'cause I'm observin' (you ain't here)
Nobody be missin' your loss 'cause you deserved it
South Philly niggas kill at will
I keep my MAC-milli chilly chill (uh), on the really-real
'Fore I make you niggas feel this steel (Killa, Killa)

Go 'head stupid niggas go f*ck wit' them chicks (go 'head)
I'm the third little piggy, I'ma f*ck wit' them bricks (bricks)
Better yet the bakery, I got pies and cakes (cakes)
Nigga think doublin' is turnin' five to eight
I turn eight to twenty, twenty to a hunnid, hunnid to a thousand
That to a hunnid thousand (thousand), in front of housin' (housin')
Closed 'em all down, dawg, no one's allowed in (allowed in)
I'm coppin' everything I'm done wit' browsin' (gimme that)
It's the top don, Glock palm, dot com
Get your shit rocked mon like Haseem Rahman (Rahman)
And I'm extra scary CEOs all the frontin' ain't necessary (why?)
I f*ck your secretaries
All for information it ain't necessary
They in love like the 14th of February
Play 'em like April 1st, right before I slide off (off)
It could be March 2nd, sound like July 4th (bah)
Halloween or Memorial Day
At your memorial, be one year from today (today)
All y'all think it's peace and peachy
I leave you Reesy Piecy, all my bitches rock
Christian Dior, BCBG (uh)
'Round phony niggas get the heeby jeebies
Hungry hoes say, "Killa, feed me, feed me"
Calm down ma, easy, easy (easy)
Talk greasy, please me, get my man Weezy
Still rock Ellesses, to squeeze appease me
He ain't no tease but measly
Not Doggy's Angels, Killa, please believe me, uh

You now rollin' with them thugs from the R-O-C
Niggas wanna despise the team, Roc-A-Fella
When the shit gets down you know who's doin' the poppin'
Killa, Sigel
M Bleek
F*ck those who disagree, my bullets you get 'em free
Roc in this muh, muh-muhf*cka
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Cameron Giles, Dwight Grant, Justin Smith, Malik Cox
Copyright: Lyrics © Reservoir Media Management, Inc., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Boy Boy

[Cam:] What up boy, boy?
[Guy:] Ain't nothin' boy, boy, it's good in the hood
[Cam:] What's poppin' boy, boy?
[Guy:] A lot of these cats fakin' jacks boy, boy
My man Smit' over hear, he's got somethin' on his mind
[Cam:] 'Sup Smitty?
[Guy:] This kid Smitty is acting a little silly right
now, boy, boy
He don't understand this is real in the hood boy, boy
[Cam:] Why you ain't smack boy, boy?
[Guy:] Well he got somethin' on his mind, you know what I'm sayin'?
I'm tryin' show a little love to him boy, boy, he need to understand
I'm tryin' let 'em live boy, boy, this is real ya' understand?
You need to stop playin' with me like that boy, boy
[Cam:] Yeah, I'm a holla at nigga, boy, boy

[Verse 1]
Cops bagged me one night, looking for the blow
Wen't from Bronxhouse to bookings, bookings to the show
From the show to the crib, to the kitchen cookin' Os
Kitchen to the car, to the street lookin' for Hos
Lookin' for hos, to straight up baggin' one
From my game in her brain, ain't no wagon, hun (Ain't no wagon bitch)
From the wagon, garage to the house
Dinnin' room, kitchen, kitchen to the couch
Couch to the bedroom, my dick's in her mouth
Bedroom to front door, this bitch getting out (See ya')
Front door, to "You know where the Jacuzzi is?"
Dress cooley, but usually the Coogi kid, bouchie kid
Tell ya boo-bee, a doo-bee did
She a houchie groupie Cooley is
Who am I? Come on, can't be for-reala
Went from Cam to Killa, killa to scrilla, Gorilla
From killa to Sky-Scrappers, from sky-scrappers
High papers, that's my nature
Do five you now, y'all die later
Come to your wake, look at you; "Hi hater"
From the wake to lot, another boogie
From the lot to the hill, to cop somethin' ugly (Ugly)
From the hill to that state Dakota
From Dakota to the corna, get that bakin' soda, KILLA

[Chorus:]
Yo, where you from dog? Harlem boy, boy
Oh this nigga getting' money? Holla boy, boy
Oh this cat over front? F*ck boy, boy
He keep that shit up..f*cking drop boy, boy
Oh you got that hydro? You lyin' boy, boy
If you need that dope, though? We got boy, boy
But watch your back: from the cops' boy, boy
Cause they paper? They wanna stop boy, boy

[Verse 2]
Aiyoo, I heard you out there shorty..slingin' boy, boy
Oh MY god, oh boy, boy
Be careful of the motherf*ckin' boys, boy
Me though? I run THEM boys, boy
Lloyd, Floyd, Roy, Soy, Black Bridicks
Bitches too, joy toy, what
Cat like you? Call you a Gladiator
Give her oral, and you happy, Glad-he-ate-her (Stupid)
Put ? on the pussy, she a masturbator
Put my dick in her mouth, that's what fascinate her
I'm a legendary now, past the player, past the player
Got the rock? Pass that player
I'm like Betty Crocker with cake, that's in layers
I had city issues before, ask the mayor (Ask him)
He said "Cam'ron, please stop this crack behavior"
(Shut the f*ck up, man)
He ain't know '96, I had a knack for Gators
I come through, laugh at haters, bitches too
Wanna act, setback, relax a player
Cause all these hos jelly you hard
When your purlieus are hard
And the Chanel, Sklies to Scarfs
I stick to their stomachs, their belly's will barf
And I take them to the telly where their belly will force
"Why f*cking me like that? Calm down that's my uterus
my serfix, my ovaries" Relax, I'm doin' this
Welcome to exclusiveness
You about to take a week off, the ultimate freak off
Hit Jimmy, Jeulz, Sean, and Zek off
Wait a minute ma', wipe that cum on your cheek OFF
I hate me a filthy ho, but I like me a silly ho
That way you really blow
Havin' to f*ck cats, she don't really know
Then take all her money; you don't feel me, though
You don't understand my pimp-ery
You love them you got sympathy, f*ck that, I'm into me

[Chorus]
Yo, where you from dog? Harlem boy, boy
Oh this nigga getting' money? Holla boy, boy
Oh this cat over front? F*ck boy, boy
He keep that shit up..f*cking drop boy, boy
Oh you got that hydro? You lyin' boy, boy
If you need that dope, though? We got boy, boy
But watch your back: from the cops boy, boy
Cause they paper? They wanna stop boy, boy
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CAMERON GILES, GREG GREEN, SEON THOMAS, TYRONE FYFFE
Copyright: Lyrics © MEMORY LANE MUSIC GROUP




Tomorrow

[singer harmonizing]

[Cam'ron over singer]
Uhh, Killa, yo ..
You got to wonder man, what is all this shit really worth,
y'knahmean? Uhh, uhh, you ain't got ya man here to share
it wit, yo, f*cked up man, yo ..

[Cam'ron]
I been on both sides of burglries, guns out and choked up
Man, this shit'll get you choked up
I'da been shot at, got at, backedstabbed, coked up
Almost doped up, but had no guts
So I pimp all these hoe sluts
When they period come it get slow but so what?
I got big plans to blow up
I'ma love this year, but blood ain't here
We would puff grass, plus hash, cut class
to f*ck ass, dough, we had enough cash
Little cats, he would see our dreams
Eighteen wit the three-eighteen, that's blood y'all
(blood y'all) He had hot gear, rock yeah
Now that he's not here I feel that it's not fair
F*ck see 'em at the crossroads, wanna see 'em drive across roads
Poor, stole, then floss mo', had to tell a few niggaz
"My man was a hell of a nigga," (?) wit the triggers
Whatever ethnic problem dawg, better check it
Little Cam, it's just bloodshed resurrected
Death to (?), "logic" I said
Four months, got 'em some head, right in the bed
Listen dawg, I'm beyond dead
This ain't even me spittin, this Derek Wright and Armstead

[Chorus]
For my fam, keep it up, those that fell, pick them up
They been here, that's whassup, tomorrow's my promise
To my streets, hold it down, all these hoes, hold your ground
Let's act brave, get it now, tomorrow's my promise

[Cam'ron]
Yo .. yo, I never had fights in rings
I just had fights for rings, ice and bling
I done spent nights in bings
Now I realized Christ the King, ain't no righteous thing
but how I get the right to sing?
And the streets be talkin like Donahue
Clowns, they belong on Comic View
that's why the feds onto you
When they form they assembly's
you stuck on the block like the ave. got parenthesis
Course everybody gotta war story (shit)
I swear to God I hear more and more stories (damn)
I'm in Jersey, the crib, four stories
Add a fifth one incase the fourth one bore me (Killa!)
I done ran through the NBC's, CBS's, 3GS's, VVS's
Baggetteses, princess cuts, diamond layers
and I never said "I'ma player"
But I been down wit messy action
Similar to Jessie Jackson, the threat would happen
Ma kept resistin, I had to bounce wit my shit man
I'm scared of commitment
I'm a hustler, work in the closet, work in the kitchen
Outside, workin and pitchin, work on the block
Even put the work on the glock
Work on the toilet, I'ma work-a-holic

[Chorus x2 w/ Cam'ron adlibs]

[singer sings until fade]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CAM'RON GILES, ELDRA DEBARGE, ELDRA P DE BARGE, ERIC ROBERSON, M. DUVERT
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Back to: Cam'ron


Come Home with Me is the third studio album by American rapper Cam'ron, released on May 14, 2002, by his own label Diplomats Records, Jay-Z's Roc-A-Fella Records and distributed by Def Jam Recordings. There are featured guest appearances from Jimmy Jones, Juelz Santana, Freekey Zekey, DJ Kay Slay, Daz Dillinger, Tiffany, Jay-Z, McGruff, Memphis Bleek, and Beanie Sigel. To date, it is his most commercially successful album; it peaked at #2 on the Billboard 200 with first-week sales of 226,000 copies, and eventually sold one million copies in the United States, being certified Platinum by the RIAA.

Its two singles were "Oh Boy" (featuring Juelz Santana) and "Hey Ma" (featuring Juelz Santana, Freekey Zekey, and Toya). "Oh Boy" held the number one spot on the Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Singles for five straight weeks, the number one spot on the Hot Rap Tracks and peaked at number four on the Billboard Hot 100. The second hit was "Hey Ma", which reached number three on the Hot 100 and number eight on the UK Singles Chart, becoming his biggest hit. "Daydreaming" was a later single released in 2003 but failed to duplicate the success from his earlier singles.
Performed By: Cam'ron
Genre(s): Hip hop
Released: May 14th, 2002
Year: 2002

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