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Jadakiss - Kiss tha Game Goodbye Album Lyrics



Jadakiss - Kiss tha Game Goodbye Lyrics






Intro

{Yeah, its the world famous DJ Clue Desert Storm
Fabolous, the album 'Street Dreams', I mean we all street dream
The sometime or another you know, fast cars, cash, women, livin' the life
My boy Fabolous, he's livin' the street dream, y'all}
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JAMES D'AGOSTINO, JASON PHILLIPS
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave






Jadas Got A Gun

[Antoine Stanton]
In the streets (it's real)
shit it f*ckin real out here (no doubt...)
niggas be hatin, violatin (fo sho, f*ck it)
but you need to know... owww!

[HOOK: E McCaine]
Jada's, got a, Jada's, got a GUN
Niggas, clear out, bitches, duck and RUN
Jada's, got a, Jada's, got a GUN
Niggas, clear out, bitches, duck and RUN

[Verse 1]
and I been had one so don't forget that
357 Magnum wit no kickback
Put 'em all in your six pack for a big stack
and I never keep the money where I keep the clips at
Violatin get you one in your throat
you still datin your heat, but me and my guns elope
when I die bury me with the toast
in case I run into a little bit of drama wherever I go
and I won't hesitate, make you levitate
hit you with the titanium, 38, and it's featherweight
bullets like good dope how I keep 'em coming
kill a couple niggas then everybody want 'em
who gon' shoot and who gon' brawl
if push comes to shove everybody know, you gon' fall
and I got mine on me
the automatic or the 40 cali, or even the black glock nine on me

[HOOK]

[Verse 2]
I got a gun wit 200 shots
I'm the reason you moved your family to a whole new other block
I got shit that could wake up the deaf
that'll knock down the door and break up the steps
don't even bother wearin a vest
cuz these aint the kinda slugs that's gon' get lodged in your chest
gotta nighttime scope that could see through the walls
so just to get shit crackin I'ma tear up your dog
I'ma show you what's dumbin out
and you could believe whatever I shoot it's comin off or comin out
and don't even try runnin out
cuz the 44 mag'll leave your ass by another house
this is Jadakiss, I'm sprayin everything I see in my radius
the kids stay blazin shit
which gun is my favorite
I don't know I got 'em all from the old to the latest shit

[HOOK]

[Verse 3]
guns and the sneakers made Jada
the bitches and the reefer came later with the money and the haters
but I'm a humble kid
still put the pump in your baby mother mouth make her mumble where you live
25 years no felony I'm tellin y'all
why you think I saved it, to blow a nigga melon off
as a young boy always carried a cap gun
fell in love wit it first time I clapped one
now I'm a grown man more mature and pleasant
and like hittin niggas in the jaw with the desert
and everybody got a gun, why not me
you gotta keep it on you now it's just like I.D.
and I never seen a man cry til I seen a man shot
f*ck pride, bullets is too damn hot
so if you aint got one then you gotta run
handle it, or tell the whole world that...

[HOOK x2]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: KASSEEM DEAN, ERIC MC CAINE, JASON T PHILLIPS
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group






Show Discipline

[Jadakiss]
Yoooo!!
uh, uh-huh, uh

Yo yo yo yo aiyyo
Never will it stop
Hanguns with double digit shots
I move work on other niggas blocks
Leave out the club wit a another niggas watch
Body that man and let other niggas watch
Only thing worse than a coward, is a coward with power
Gotta kill him in the shower, hour
Beats is knockin, hooks is rare
Earned my spot, nobody aint put me here
Burnt my block, I had a fiend cookin wit beer
Like the Bobby Womack of crack
Might see me in the burgandy thing, or the black on black
Matter of fact, go get ya chrome
Cause I rather be, broke together than rich alone
Clappin em' down, backin em' down (uh)
F*ck what ever happened before, I'm whats happenin' now

[Chorus: Nas (Jada)]
Now gangstas live, gangstas die
Grab ya guns, soldiers ride (show discipline nigga!)
Kill ya moms, kill ya pops, kill ya seed
Kill ya girl (Its principle nigga!)
Sell ya crack, sell ya coke
Sell ya E, sell ya smoke (you hustlin nigga!)
Grab ya nine, grab ya pound
Grab ya tec, grab ya pump (you bustin at niggaz!,wha)

[Nas]
We bravehearted, I had bitches tryin to posion me
Niggaz who kilt loyalty
Set me up, vested up my move accordingly
I ducked icepicks and icesticks by cops who rookies
Hard to be righteous, and when life can just stop for pussy
Niggaz killin over hoes, guns concealed in their clothes
Bodies at funerals, touch them they feel like they froze
Speech, totally calm, holdin dead rappers dome in my palm
Burnin flag, plus its on the qu'ran, its on the bible
Plus america cause that every car thats drivin
Holdin the homeless sign you focus you know its Nas then
Prince of the globe, leave no prince of the toast
Played with Ouija boards, burned frankencense wit a ghost
I've learned, to do good plus a waste of evil
And do what it takes to keep a smile on the face of my people
I was raised by the apes in this dark creepshow, but yo

[Chorus]

[Jadakiss]
yo yo yo yo yo yo
Think bout when I splatter ya mask(yea)
My niggas is happy, ya momma is sad
If ya niggas is riders, the drama will last
If ya niggas is snitch, been judgin my ass
They said I'm too famous to run
So when I empty out this clip, I'm changin the gun
The realer the beef, the longer the clip
Murder ya mans, I'm gone in the mist
Call this girl after dark so we talked the bitch
We aint care cause the whore wasnt shit
Doll, I aint takin the L or waistin a shell
I bring the heat like I'm satan itself
F*ck if you hard, f*ck if you soft, long as you lost
Dick in the dirt, shit in ya drawers
Ill make ya grandmother get on the floor
Tie you up, then beat you to a pulp, say that this is a war
If'n the four, mackin a pump, actin I dump
Throw you out the window then act like you jump

[Chorus 2x]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: NASIR JONES, IMSOMIE LEEPER, JASON T PHILLIPS, DAVID STYLES, JASON VAN LEAR
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group






Knock Yourself Out

Uh-huh, you know where I'm taking this
I'm taking it right there, they leave me no choice

She said she was a model for a year and a half
And if she took her pins out,
Then her hair would drop down to her calf
I knew her man, he was just up North
And would've got left up North, but he was the chef up North
Anyway I'm K-I-double
All I do is get dough, spit flows, try to stay out of trouble
If you ready we could move, just lose your man
Or hit the dance floor, I'll show you how to do my dance
Or I might let you play in the garden
Or sit up in that white thing and listen to the greatest of Marvin
The estate got six locations
Take so long to get to the front once I missed probation
And I hate to brag
I know ya man really wouldn't like the Baretta but he'd hate the Mag
And yeah here go a blank check, rock yourself out
But in the mean time girl, knock yourself out

Oh you modelin momma? (knock yourself out)
Wanna let ya hair down? (knock yourself out)
Oh you ready to move? (knock yourself out)
Whatchu wanna sit in the Coupe? (knock yourself out)
Wanna keep on dancin? (knock yourself out)
Wanna run in my mansion? (knock yourself out)
Sit in V.I.P.? (knock yourself out)
Bitch you just wanna be seen (knock yourself out)

Now you can knock yourself out like you boxin yourself
Or you can get real freaky start poppin yourself
And my watch got so many rocks, when you look at the time
It's sorta like you watchin yourself, uh
Front if you want, I puff a few blunts
And take a cruise in a Porsche wit the trunk in the front
She had the Jocko Bijou sandals, told her hop in
The coupe blew her mind when she couldn't find the door handles
Attitude very high maintenance, check this out ma
I'm runnin out of my patience
Don't sleep wit me? Then don't speak wit me
And never talk bad bout niggas that eat wit me

Oh you modelin momma? (knock yourself out)
Wanna let ya hair down? (knock yourself out)
Oh you ready to move? (knock yourself out)
Whatchu wanna sit in the Coupe? (knock yourself out)
Wanna keep on dancin? (knock yourself out)
Wanna run in my mansion? (knock yourself out)
Sit in V.I.P.? (knock yourself out)
Bitch you just wanna be seen (knock yourself out)

Aiyyo, honey know I'm waitin to leave
Keep dancin, cause I like how that ass shake in them capris
I'm like Big wit the murder mamis up in Belize
But I'll still f*ck a chicken head like Lil' Cease
I don't care if they model, bet they all gon' chill
First nigga to cook base on a Foreman grill
And you might win some, but you just lost one
Kiss mis-educates 'em like Lauryn Hill

Oh you modelin momma? (knock yourself out)
Wanna let ya hair down? (knock yourself out)
Oh you ready to move? (knock yourself out)
Whatchu wanna sit in the Coupe? (knock yourself out)
Wanna keep on dancin? (knock yourself out)
Wanna run in my mansion? (knock yourself out)
Sit in V.I.P.? (knock yourself out)
Bitch you just wanna be seen (knock yourself out)

Oh you modelin momma? (knock yourself out)
Wanna let ya hair down? (knock yourself out)
Oh you ready to move? (knock yourself out)
Whatchu wanna sit in the Coupe? (knock yourself out)
Wanna keep on dancin? (knock yourself out)
Wanna run in my mansion? (knock yourself out)
Sit in V.I.P.? (knock yourself out)
Bitch you just wanna be seen (knock yourself out)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JASON PHILLIPS, PHARRELL WILLIAMS
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






We Gonna Make It

[Jadakiss]
Uhh, uh
F*ck.. the.. frail shit
Uhh, cause when my coke come in
they gotta use the scales that they weigh the whales wit

[Styles]
Carsons on the jeep, but Gotti made the prototype
Hoped you get the picture but you just can't photo light

[Jadakiss]
Determined niggaz make it
Kickin down the door and we burnin niggaz naked

[Styles]
The house costs a million, sittin on the beach
And the only thing I know - if it's furnished, I'ma take it

[Jadakiss]
My bathtub lift up, my walls do a 360
We got the shit that the government got
Talkin money then you rubbin the spot

[Stlyes]
Real niggaz say that they be wildin
We on the Cayman Islands; on a yacht wit our favorite albums

[Jadakiss]
A bad hoe and a plate of salmon
Smokin and drinkin, nigga is you thinkin that our fate is violent?

[Styles]
I love my nigga for the fact that he real
And nobody on the faculty squeal, what

[Jadakiss]
And if you facin capital pun, pass me a gun
And I'ma give you time to run, while I rapidly peel, uh

[Chorus 2X: Jadakiss]
We.. gon'.. make it
We gon' make it, we gon' make it

[Eve]
Uh, c'mon
E-V-E, call it a bug in your ear, you never kill
Still woulda been a threat to you bitches without a deal
Life a little liver, I went from hangin out to socializin
Mind frame change once the dough arrives
You bitches happy with a touch and a thrill, I need a lot of paper
My stimulation comes from snatchin up deals
How many times I gotta tell you, silly?
Don't no corny shit come outta Philly
And I'ma push it 'til the world feel me
I'm still as hungry as the day I began
And gettin comfortable to let you in ain't part of the plan
I need some private jets, fly to islands to watch the sun set
A country ranch with throughbreds as pets
Nothin less than the rich bitch, and watch me take it
Chickens ain't a threat to the girl, we gon' make it
Keep it crackin like you wouldn't believe, Double R
Hot shit, the hottest shit, Styles, Jada and Eve, what?

[Chorus]

[Styles]
It's about time I blow
And if I don't do my numbers dog I still got my aces
We robbin industry niggaz, hands on your jewels
And if it's money in the pocket, then DeNiro gotta take it
A dog caught a body, still runnin, that's the basics
First nigga in the hood to get his car a facelift
All my niggaz know more money, more cases
Front if you want, that's my gun in yo' faces
My reputation alone should speak for itself
I come prepared with the chrome and bust the heat for myself
I got a little brother in heaven, my niggaz on the corner
in the yard that'd love to see the God or the seven
Point 5-4-I-L might not sell, but what the F*CK
When it comes to bein' hard, I'ma legend
Double R, Styles +is the streets+
And the kids pick up shit quick, they gotta see they fathers eat
And my niggaz is all I got
So if I gotta go to war with y'all team I'm leavin all y'all shot

[Chorus]

[Styles speaking over chorus]
That's right, we gon' make it
We got no choice but to make it
We got kids to feed, we got people in jail that need packages
We brothers on the corner, we gotta make them step their game up
We gotta stop gettin arrested
We gon' make it, we gon' get this paper
I swear we will
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: DAVID STYLES, JASON T PHILLIPS, SAM JOHNSON
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, THE ROYALTY NETWORK INC.






None Of YAll Betta

[Styles]
It's sorta like the Holy Trinity...
I'ma say...
I say it's like three different guns you f*ckin faggots
Get shot three different ways
Matter fact, make that six different ways
Gun in each hand bitch
None of y'all betta
[Primo scratch twice-- Jadakiss] - "Aint none of y'all betta"
If it is name it
We'll squash you, ASAP, feel it

All I know, niggas give me all my dough
Like Boston George comin through with all my blow
Right now I'm tryin to charter a jet
F*ck this hit the Panama Canal and get a harder connect
Step on your toes, mess with your hoes, shoot up your mans
Come through the block tryin to screw up your plans
Cuz I still rob niggas for coke
Understand I'm the first one they call when they gettin the dope
I'm the one who prick your finger when they give you the oath
I'm the one who made the hit when they bring you the toast
Like Pacino and DeNiro 'cept they call me Paniro
Sad Styles still spin that arrow, f*ck it
Like the boss of New York, you know how I feel
Kill a motherf*cker cuz a corpse don't talk (no doubt)
Sixteen in the joint wit one in the head
If the bullets had legs have them run in your head, bitch

[Primo scratches:]
[Jadakiss] - "aint none of y'all betta..."
[Sonja Blade] - "what y'all know about..." [Styles P] - " put in my work..."
[Sheek] - "on the block..."
[Jadakiss] - "aint none if y'all betta..." [Styles P] - "but you know it's all real..."
[Tef and Billy Danze] - "Is it real? Yeah son!"
[Jadakiss] - "aint none of y'all betta..." [Sonja Blade] - "what y'all know about..."
[Styles P] - "put in my work..." [Sheek] - "on the block..."
[Jadakiss] - "aint none of y'all betta..." [Styles P] - "bet you know it's all real..."
[Tef and Billy Danze] - "Is it real? Yeah son!"
[Jadakiss] - "aint none of y'all betta..."

[Sheek]
Let's get it poppin my nigga
Load the tech up and go shoppin my nigga
and I don't mean the mall or no Gucci store
You know what the f*ck I want, bricks of raw
and I'm too old to make less than a hundred a year
If it means wavin the hammer and leavin you there
If it means grabbin your kids out daycare
Somebody losin a seed, pay or bleed
It's Sheek Louch, I aint got no heart
I shoot broad daylight right in front of the mark
I put 28 holes through the icy car
F*ck around, like the God won't squeeze
If I don't see the badge I'm clappin the D's
LOX motherf*cker, the OX motherf*cker
The reason why you shouldn't cop drops motherf*cker
Like it's something for me to shoot your pops motherf*cker, what

[Primo scratches]

[Jadakiss]
Ayo the dopes and the rice, the cokes and the pyrex
over the stove and I'm bout to hit it with the ice
Runners love to pump the bomb
They know no fair ones, now niggas'll jump they moms
You god, minus the 12 disciples
I pop up, all you see is shells and rifles
If I don't like you, I'ma kill you not fight you
I bite a little piece of your ear off like Mike do
and everybody gon' follow me now
Down eighth and an oozie mahogany brown
Faggots want you to kill 'em in a hurry
It f*cks me up, like they aint got no money to get buried
You could flip, I'll survive m'kay, motherf*cker
In my block still doin twenty-five a day
Know you work out, chest and your back all nice
But the twelve gauge'll have your six pack on ice, what?

[Primo scratches]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: SEAN JACOBS, SEAN D JACOBS, CHRISTOPHER E MARTIN, JASON PHILLIPS, JASON T PHILLIPS, DAVID STYLES
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.






Stick Yourself

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

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Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher






Im A Gangsta

[HOOK x2: Jadakiss and Parle]
I'm a gangsta
Yeah, motherf*cker
I'm a thug
Uh, please believe
I'm a pimp girl
C'mon, let's go
and I'm a hustler, a hustler
do it, do it, do it...

[Verse 1]
Yo, I'm a gangsta, cuz I do gangsta shit
matter fact from now on call me gangsta Kiss
you already know I handle my business
slay you then your man before the first candle's finished
feel good when I walk through the hood
best part is, I don't gotta flow I just talk to the hood
and I do alotta readin, and only eat pasta
shrimp fettucini, and pine a la vaca
came here talkin slick, all that real shit
that's why I'm somethin to deal wit
even though I wanted Gore to win
I can f*ck with Bush though, cuz he gon let the raw come in
bigger the boss, bigger the picture
bullets is bisexual, cuz they hit niggas and bitches
in a Deville with dubs in the back on a cell phone riffin
I'm all of the above just listen

[HOOK]

[Verse 2]
Yo, I'm a thug so I blow on weed
get money like it grow on trees
have all these hoes roll on E
some of my niggas even stole on D's
work 12 hour shifts, just gimme the word
I get 12 cowards hit, never givin a f*ck
18's on the Coupe, deuce O's on the truck
tell P hold the hammer while I handle the dice
shoot him in his bandanna he aint gamblin right
I need a 360 Medina, charcoal gray
treat my guns like my dogs, let 'em bark all day
in a three floor condo with the spiral stairs
made it past the front desk, then the rifle's here
I'm the motherf*ckin big shot, I get down
wit a 17, 16, 10 and a six shot
f*ck with Kiss get your wig rocked
and if you're smart you'll bounce when my motherf*ckin shit drop

[HOOK]

[Verse 3]
Yo, I'm a pimp girl
catch me at the bar with a bottle of Cuervo
mami's rubbin my webo
and this is what got me the ass
honey said her drink was hot so I put my watch in her glass
then she aint even wanna get breakfast
she just wanna hop right up in the truck and get reckless
top from the club all the way to the exit
ask me her name, couldn't tell you if I guessed it
my bitches don't know nothing, don't say nothing
and they pay for everything, I don't pay nothing
I'm a white tee pimp, fresh headband
dirty denim, Timbaland, or a Nike pimp
I like to eat shrimp, and I don't keep a broad long enough to love 'em
now dog that's some deep shit
cuz I don't believe in hoes explorin
no matter how bad you are you gone in the mornin

[HOOK]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ANTHONY FIELDS, SHANDEL GREENE, JASON PHILLIPS, JASON T PHILLIPS
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., BEHIND THE ROPES ENTERTAINMENT






Nasty Girl

C'mon

I need a good girl
I need a good girl
I need a good girl

[Verse I]
Eyes all chinky
She be coming through in the new Cadillac Escalade on twinkies
Ma got a perfect face, brilliant ass
Her hands and her feet look like a mill in cash
I love when I call and she still in class
Instead of down in Bloomingdales stealing bags
And you know ya man Jada shoot through the hood
She look so good that the chickenheads can't hate her
Ever seen a dime? she a hell-a one
Still make her hop out and cop me a dutch, a vanilla one
Taught her how to murda the highway
Put her up on mean shoes like Roberto Cavale`
Even though she look real ill in the Gucci
Now you might catch her in Amilio Puchi
Since she a good girl that attend college
I don't let her give me brain I just let her give me knowledge

[Hook 2X: Carl Thomas]
She's a good, good, good, good girl
Such a real fine lady and a lucky girl
I don't want no nasty girl
I don't want no nasty girl

[Verse II]
I'ma show you the kiss of life sorta like Sade
G-class 5, the seats go sideways
Wit the see-through roof, OOF!
Rims so big they leave dents in the highway
My good girl ride wit me
She take over the wheel everytime I pull over to piss
She shake it up in the club when I'm over them hips
Waking up to the turkey bacon over the grits
Orange juice and the newspaper over the clips
Later on she gon hook up spaghetti
She ain't worried 'bout Herm S shit she got it already
She said she knew about the game cause her father was heavy
Then she asked could she borrow the Chevy
I could zoom in the jag
She going shopping need room for the bags
I sped off in the joint like it's Raspy's world
Cause (I don't want no nasty girl)

[Hook]

[Verse III]
She's a good girl, I love her for that
She got mad dough, I love her for that
Her moms is cool, I think her lil' brother a rat
Everything else is straight though other than that
She dont play no games, I love her for that
Or hang wit no dames, I love her for that
I told her roll for dolo, leave the chicks
Attitude, reflex leadership
And the sex is incredible, I love her for that
How she fit me in her schedule, I love her for that
And she like making love by the lake for hours
Or just chillin' on the block, on a crate for hours
This Jadakiss, and Timbaland
This is Raspy's world
And I don't want no nasty girl

[Hook]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: PAUL LAWRENCE JONES, TIMOTHY Z MOSLEY, JASON PHILLIPS, JASON T PHILLIPS
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group






Put Ya Hands Up

Turn the f*ckin beat on!
Ha!! Yeah, we back! (?)
I had to switch back to Dom Perignon in rap baby!
Cock-and-run to stay in the business
Son of a bitch! Double R, look at me now motherf..
Two-thousand-and-one, "Kiss the Game Goodbye" - let's get it on!

[Jadakiss]
It's the J-A-D-A I got beef with the feds and the D-A
I got footage in the game press replay
I got bitches in the club all over me ma take it e-asy
And y'all scared I can tell
and I'ma get Buckss like Milwaukee cause like +Sam+ I +Can-sell+
I'm that nigga y'all know that
Bang you in tha yard then slide off on the early go back
In the streets I flash the cannon like Kodak
And I spray threes so say cheese
Already told you I'm lookin for enemies
Double R so of course it's better
I love cornrows and Farrah Fawcett feathers
It's a message in a glass bottle read the letter
Money in the bank membership Visa sweaters
And we ride or d-i-e together

[Chorus 1]
Uh uh come on put ya hands up
Nah, f*ck that put ya hands down
(ahh) Come on put ya hands up
Nah, f*ck that put ya hands down

[Jadakiss]
Y'all know I got the master flow, fast or slow
Y'all wanna know who the best is aks ya hoe
The honies don't lie they love it
And they cop for real trust me dogg the thugs will dub it
'Kiss hit you with consecutive hot shit
Therefore nobody never gon' spit like I spit
Get money just to walk through off the books
So when you mention my name shit is off the hook
Shirts is off, titties is out
And you know I'm there the hardest niggas in the city is out
I'm in the club ice over the thermal waitin for you to try me
When the lights get low I'ma burn you
Start with straight shots and then pop bottles
Flirt with the hood rats then pop models
Gotta slay two or more, ma that's our motto
And y'all might get down with the team if y'all swallow

[Chorus 2 (longer and diferent fill in)]

[Jadakiss]
(Muahh) Kiss the game goodbye, the game is mine
You thought wrong change ya mind
I'm the nigga that'll pop the king and scoop the queen
and take over the town with a ruthless team
New S-Type wagon, future green
Gun heavy pants saggin I'm used to cream
Who you know can make a million dollar bail on cash
Never did a day and got the jails on smash, K-I double
I move the perico quick, and just let manteca bubble
'Kiss been a boss, y'all just start workin
Now put ya hands up 'til ya arms start hurtin
Don't put 'em down 'til I tell you
Whoever wanna be hard headed then find out what the shells do
Now you can put 'em down if you want
But soon as the hook come back put 'em up

[Chorus 3 (then fade)]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: WAYNE G. BROWN, SHANDEL GREEN, DENNIS LUSSIER, JASON PHILLIPS, JASON T PHILLIPS, DEKE RICHARDS
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, DELLA MUSIC PUBLISHING, LLC






Jay Jerkin'

(Jadakiss)
Yo its jay-da-kiss
An another one
Uh huh
Just bring it to em'
Eh yo what up ma?
(Latin woman)
Hey ya poppy, give it to me baby
(jerking noises)
(Jay)
(door opens)
(gangsta) nigga what the f*ck you doing!
(Jada)na yo what up, no it ain't like that homie
(gangsta)what the f*ck you mean it ain't like that?
(gunshots)
(Jada)that's what the f*ck I mean nig
Yo yo yo yo
Emcee's catch cold feet when I hold heat
Creep to a low beat and kay slay like street sweep
Albums of 2000 poundin' motherf*ckers like no more public housin'
Jada levelin' niggas to the groundin'
Buckin' in your spouse'n
Bringin' drama like osama and breakin' up thousands
F*ck the game
The game wants us
We clip so hard souls of our enemy's taunt us
To pull more triggers f*ck it
I grab my gunz and buck it
Like nas you gotta love it when I touch it
On the mic Jada flow toughest
Remember that
(girls singing)
Jada Jada Jada kiss
Where have you been and what is this?
How many times have I told ya I'm not ya bitch
If you like flirting with death, then here, go slit your wrists
(Jadakiss)
Bitch, f*ck you.
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ALAN MAMAN, JASON PHILLIPS, JASON T PHILLIPS
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Royalty Network






On My Way

[Jadakiss]
Aiyyo Swizz check it out
I'm shoot over to Cali, yknahmsayin? Check this movie out
Then I'ma check honey out
Then I'ma fly back to N.Y., see what's goin on in the projects
Then I'ma shoot down to Atlanta
See how it's goin down in the Dirty Dirty
Then I'ma shoot over to New Orleans, Detroit, Chicago, Seattle, Miami..

[Chorus: Swizz Beatz]
I'm on my way to Cali to see my bitch (say what?)
I'm on my way to New York to see my bitch (that's right)
Down in Atlanta done seen my bitch - now
I don't know, what you've been told
But I'm on my way to Philly to see my bitch (say what?)
I'm on my way to Texas to see my bitch (that's right)
Down in Miami done seen my bitch - now
I don't know, what you've been told

[Jadakiss]
But I'm on my way to Cali to see my bitch
and do a movie but first I gotta read my script
After that I get it poppin at the La Mentage
I'm gettin skull in the Ferrari, bottom garage
Then it's back to N.Y. to my project bitch
She like to do it anywhere, a real hardhead bitch
And she enjoy riffin when I'm gone
but love when I say I'll be there in a minute, listen for the horn
(beep beep beep) I'm down in Atlanta to see my bitch
She go to college, she model, and she got chips
Rock La Perla lingerie
Tattoo on her ass that say that this belong's to Ja'
Now I don't know, what you've been told
But 'Kiss be blowin they mind and spendin they dough
And I'm goin on a lil' trip, I'll be back
Anybody lookin for me, just tell 'em that I'm

[Chorus]

[Jadakiss]
I'm on my way to New Orleans, for one whole month
to see my shorty in Magnolia, she got gold fronts
We don't kiss; matter fact I only hit that once
but she chill and she like to smoke big fat blunts
Then I'm swingin through Detroit to see my boo
You think you got every color mink? She got two
And she just slapped a hundred on the toy
Honey was a gangstress for real, gettin money off the board
Then I'm hittin Chi-Town, soon as it die down
Lay up in my chick's house, break a couple pies down
Nobody can do this but 'Kiss, freeze..
.. music please (ahhh-hahhh!)
Ahh, where was I? Oh yes
Off to the Valley so I gotta go West
My chick got the gold Benz and the gray Lex
I hit her with a shirt on cause she got fake breasts, c'mon

[Chorus]

[Jadakiss]
That I'm on my way to Philly to see my bitch (yesss)
She talkin shit on the celly like she that bitch (yesss)
And this how you know it's definitely real
When you drop the CL-6, then you knock Stephanie Mills
When I get there, she gon' show me more than some brotherly love
Top piece 'til I cum in her mug
I'm tryin to leave and she givin me hell
Told her bend over; I'ma crack that ass like the Liberty Bell
[BONG!] Now I'm on my way to Texas to see my bitch
I oughta be there by breakfast if I leave by six
And ain't nuttin stoppin Ja'
I'ma get the puss, catch the Rockets game, then be on my way
Now I'm down in Miami to see my bitch
She got her own beauty salon, and she strip
I'm proud of the girl, backside's out of this world
The bitch perform; besides that, her lips was warm, c'mon

[Chorus - 2X]

[ad libs to fade]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: KASSEEM DEAN, JASON PHILLIPS, JASON T PHILLIPS
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.






Cruisin

"I wanna.." [scratch] uhh
"I wanna.."

[sung] Cruisin baby (c'mon)
[Snoop] Cruise with me, cruise with me
[sung] Come ride with me (ride with me)
[Snoop] Ride, ride
[sung] Cruisin baby - come smoke with me
(smoke with me)
[sung] Cruisin baby (c'mon)
[sung] Roll down these streets (bounce)
[Snoop] Bounce (yeah)

[Jadakiss]
Yo, yo
"I wanna.." take a trip to the Beverly Center
and scoop a mean model broad up dawg and get head in the renter
Gotta take her home, clean her up before I can finish
Cause ain't no pussy worth gettin burnt while I'm up in it
Then I made her roll up while I was runnin a bath
And she said she do X, I gave her one and a half
Let her get her roll on and made her jump in the bath
I left her standin there sayin.. haha
"I wanna.." come through in the orange M5
And I got them things in the trunk and they goin for ten-five
It could and it will get ugly, but so what?
No matter how it go down, the hood'll still love me
Never cut broads, I let everybody hit 'em
My bullets is like chicken pox, everybody get 'em
You know Ja' blow pud-dy, lookin for somethin to slay
Mixin the 'gnac with Ocean Spray, c'mon

"I wanna.."
[sung] Cruisin baby - come ride with me
[Snoop] Ride with me, ride with me, ride with me
[sung] Cruisin baby - come smoke with me
[Snoop] Smoke with me, smoke with me, smoke with me
[sung] Cruisin baby - roll down these streets
[Snoop] Roll with me, roll with me, roll with me
[sung] with me..

[Snoop Dogg]
"I wanna.." bust a bitch upside her motherf*ckin head
for talkin shit to a pimp
Limp on 'em, flip on 'em, dip on 'em
Crip on 'em, and put this motherf*ckin dick on 'em
This sorta fish called a bitch oughta hush up
Rolled a fat blunt and smoked this motherf*ckin dope up
Cause you know what? (Whattup?)
Shit a nigga know you're so tough, but bitch I wanna go f*ck
"I wanna.." take you upstairs, and do dat dere
Hell motherf*ckin yeah
See I'm a real player and I won't waste your time
I've been a starter, I ain't never sat the f*ckin pine
Stay on the frontline, it's all by de-sign
Nigga done the crizzime, ain't never dropped a dizzime
Everything is fizzine, rollin up a dizzime
D-O-double-G I got bitches waitin in lizzine

"I wanna.."
[sung] Cruisin baby - come ride with me
[Snoop] Ride with me, ride with me, ride with me
[sung] Cruisin baby - come smoke with me
[Snoop] Smoke with me, smoke with me, smoke with me
[sung] Cruisin baby - roll down these streets
[Snoop] Roll with me, roll with me, roll with me
[sung] with me..

[Jadakiss]
Uh-huh, yeah.. yeah..
"I wanna.." do the club thing like in and out in an hour
And then I'm back home bangin shorty out in the shower
Check it I'm chasin the Henny with Coronas
She got in her mind that, she gon' get some Fendi if I bone her
(eh-eh) Backshot was murder from the rear
And she gave me mean top, while I blew the purple in her hair
Oh yeah, after I nutted I was a goner
And still got honey thinkin that
"I wanna.." automatic start on the Aston Martin
Can't beat 'Kiss cause you ain't got half the heart an'
get you hit on the inside for half a carton
Couple of suits - dawg, we f*ckin with loot
I got enough dough to chill in court
But I know dudes with twenty-five in and they still ain't short
But never mind that, we can't lose
Pour another drink, roll another dutch up
We gon' cruise, let's go

"I wanna.."
[sung] Cruisin baby - come ride with me
[Snoop] Yeah, cruise, cruise.. gangsta, gangsta..
[sung] Cruisin baby - come smoke with me
[Snoop] Yea yea, yea yea.. yea yea, gangsta, gangsta..
[sung] Cruisin baby - roll down these streets
[Snoop] Cruise.. lay low.. hold it down y'all
[sung] with me..
[Snoop] Hold it hold it hold it down, hold it down y'all
"I wanna.."
[Snoop] Yea yea, hold it down

.. "I wanna.."
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CALVIN BROADUS, JASON T PHILLIPS, MICHAEL A. GOMEZ, R MADRID
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC






Kiss Is Spittin

[Jadakiss]
Uhh.. uh, uh, uh-uh-uh
Uh, uh, uh-uh-uh
Uh, uh, uh-uh-uh
Uh (uh) uh (uh) uh-uh-uh
Uh (uh) uh (uh) uh-uh-uh
Uh (uh) uh (uh) uh-uh-uh
Yo, yo, yo, yo
Hey yo I got land cars and jewelry, and artillery
And I got every hood feelin me
It's nuttin like when a thug get at you and spit thug literature
Your fanbase wanna get rid of you
Still in the hood doin it
I don't know why I'm doin this, we don't eve move a lot of units
But ain't no threats, don't stress me dog
You gotta let me hear somethin to impress me dog
When I spit I put rappers in line, then smack 'em around
I got 'em all home practicin now
You know 'Kiss be, icey hard and crispy
The truck's manual but the Coupe is 6-B
Listen I ain't never spit nonsense
I'm from the street with a mean vocabulary contents
Whoever you send I'll send back
Y'all all been wack; 'Kiss is makin a strong impact
C'mon

[Chorus: Nate Dogg]
(When 'Kiss, is spittin) They don't love you no more
(When 'Kiss, is spittin) Things will never be the same a-gain
(When 'Kiss, is spittin) Why they hatin on you
[Jada] It's just like that, ha! (When 'Kiss, is spittin)

[Jadakiss]
Uh, uh, yo, yo
Sinnin or not, I'm grinnin a lot, spendin a knot
Dirty denim and a cinnamon fox
Bitches'll follow, gangsters'll ride, gentlemen watch
Buy the bar, leave drunk, shoot up the block
You might hear 'Kiss spittin, but after the show
you might hear clips spittin, we after your glow
Things'll never be the same again
when your frame get bent, link get worn, change get spent
Confiscate your whip - you think you a player?
I could confiscate your bitch, take her and slay her
If a nigga nicer than me, then Christ is here
You got somethin in the bank? Then the dice is here
I could show you how to gamble your money, handle a gun
but be a family man and go home to your son
Light a candle where you stand, cause that's where you died
and if you heard 'Kiss spittin, then you know it was won, uh

[Chorus]

[Jadakiss]
Yo, yo
Hey yo the voice got a lot of people heated, peep it
The flow is like methadone - lot of people need it
Seen it all happen before
Feel like I'm still hustlin; cause the way I'm rappin is raw
You could put your jewels on it
You might just see me in the lightning pickup with the 22's on it
The stakes'll cost you; understand one thing
I do great field work plus I'ma boss too
Loyalty is hard to come by
Y'all know who the streets is run by, could only be one guy
And that be who but 'Kiss, no security
The burner and some niggaz that I grew up with
And the brand new 911, f*ck a dime
with a fine eleven at stop signs I'm revvin
And the flow is just so obnoxious
As far as the Double R camp go, dawg I got this, c'mon now

[Chorus w/o Jada (repeat 2X)]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: KASSEEM DEAN, JERRY LIEBER, ERIC MC CAINE, JASON T PHILLIPS, MIKE STOLLER
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group






Fuckin' or What?

What's up ma? Is we f*ckin' or what?
Haha, trying to say something tonight baby
I know everybody ask their chick this question
In the house, in the club, in the car, outside, everywhere

All my stripclub honeys is we f*ckin' or what?
All my eat-pill honeys is we f*ckin' or what?
All my hoodrat honeys is we f*ckin' or what?
I just want to know one thing, is we f*ckin' or what?

All my stripclub honeys is we f*ckin' or what?
All my eat-pill honeys is we f*ckin' or what?
All my hoodrat honeys is we f*ckin' or what?
I just want to know one thing, is we f*ckin' or what?

Ain't no need in buying a drink or holding a convo
If you ain't coming back to the condo
It's damn near 4 in the morning ain't shit to discuss
Til you ask which dick do you suck
I'm trying to f*ck 'til it's light outside
You feel the same? Get your coat get your friends
The truck right outside
Listen ma I want to ball out
So when I nut I expect you to suck it all out
And let my man tear your walls out
Cause he just came home and he need pussy to fall out
I get it crump ask the fellow players
Kiss hit more hoes than they list in the yellow pages
It's never to cuff 'em share 'em right after I f*ck 'em
To come clean I'm a mellow gangster
Pass a chick like a baton runner to runner
Been through a million thongs from summer to summer
So you'll never see J stressed they always say yes
Everynight dog I be bustin a nut
I just can't stop gettin' the butt
And the only thing I ask girlfriend is we f*ckin' or what?

All my stripclub honeys is we f*ckin' or what?
All my eat-pill honeys is we f*ckin' or what?
All my hoodrat honeys is we f*ckin' or what?
I just want to know one thing, is we f*ckin' or what?

All my stripclub honeys is we f*ckin' or what?
All my eat-pill honeys is we f*ckin' or what?
All my hoodrat honeys is we f*ckin' or what?
I just want to know one thing, is we f*ckin' or what?

Look if you don't like men be out
And if it's all good and you got a girlfriend then we out
Please don't hit me with the two worse lines
How you don't be doing this or this is your first time
Listen we all grown bitch you came here on your own bitch
I leave them lawsuits alone bitch
She try to tell me she model
I told her me too you ain't saying nothing slick suck it and swallow
I just want to hit you from the back and watch the Apollo
And if the pussys all that I might holla tomorrow
But you acting like a rabbit how you cling to the carrots
It ain't the bling it's the nigga ma get it and stash it
Caught a coy, caught a flashback check this out
Bring your girlfriend in the room shorty and lick her asscrack
And even though your toungue stuck in her butt
The only thing I want to know is we f*ckin' or what?

All my stripclub honeys is we f*ckin' or what?
All my eat-pill honeys is we f*ckin' or what?
All my hoodrat honeys is we f*ckin' or what?
I just want to know one thing, is we f*ckin' or what?

All my stripclub honeys is we f*ckin' or what?
All my eat-pill honeys is we f*ckin' or what?
All my hoodrat honeys is we f*ckin' or what?
I just want to know one thing, is we f*ckin' or what?


All my stripclub honeys is we f*ckin' or what?
All my eat-pill honeys is we f*ckin' or what?
All my hoodrat honeys is we f*ckin' or what?
I just want to know one thing, is we f*ckin' or what?

All my stripclub honeys is we f*ckin' or what?
All my eat-pill honeys is we f*ckin' or what?
All my hoodrat honeys is we f*ckin' or what?
I just want to know one thing, is we f*ckin' or what?
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: THOMAS RANDOLPH BELL, LINDA CREED, KASSEEM DEAN, JASON T PHILLIPS, DAVID STYLES
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






Its Time I See You

[Drag-On]
Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!
F*ck y'all niggas talkin 'bout huh? ("it's time I see you...)
Get it right, you faggot niggas heard Suge Knight
Double R's the only niggas he respect and, y'all niggas shook right?
y'all get on Hot 97 and, talk wit a baritone
wit two niggas downstairs wit ?licensed guns? to take y'all home
scared ass niggas, you think they gon take a life so they can get life (nope)
ask Puff they aint tryin to hear that nigga
for no cake, and y'all can get at us on Labor Day
we make stones that say ? your moms labor day
I'm in the hood so we can link up, any place you think of
handheld don't hold prints plus I burnt the tip of my fingers
I'm a Bronx gangsta nigga, double R's hoodrat
the nigga they come get quick bitch, on this hood shit

[Cross]
Y'all bitches think the ryders a joke, well I don't play (let's go)
I blow you whole f*ckin shit up like Tim McVeigh
gimme the needle, not tomorrow, but today
Cross comin y'all better get the f*ck out the way
I aint the shit that you see that's on the top of your church
I put a bomb in your baby carriage, brick through your hearse

[Infa-Red]
Tell your CEO, don't call my CEO apologizin (sorry)
I'm at your wake in the choir standin harmonizin
It's Infa-Red the shit that be on top of the heater
The best thing in New York since Steinbrenner signed Jeter
hold Camby sister the hostage, then send 'em a reef
so stop frontin vegetarian just scared of beef

[Eve]
Yo, ay suck my dick bitch, the way this chick spit ridickliss
Here we go again, only we on Kiss shit
we comin and you keep runnin
you keep claimin you the best that done it
pussy let me see somethin
fake niggas screamin "Ryde or Die"
same niggas we run up on and make 'em cry
outta all the camps in this game, nigga
we the champs in this game
who kick the real shit before the fame
f*ck you fat ass, fake bad ass niggas
still play the hood while you ride past niggas
coward trust me, we keep it gutter
hope you stay mad a hater cuz you can't touch us, huh

"It's time I see you..."
[Styles]
Ayo, I aint got a care in the world
Kidnappin your kid, maimin your mom, and airin your girl
and like, you aint got a care in the world
I'm hopeless and numb, I can't see but I can focus my gun
and I'm down for smokin blunts to the head
my nerves is shot, my paces is short, I dump in your head
I'm the hardest nigga out you outta know it by now
I'm the nigga that they talk about goin to Chao
and my name ring bells, my blade stay bloody
if you heard about me beefin dog I leave the most shells
the nigga to salute, the quickest to shoot
Holiday Styles, motherf*cker, givin you pound

[Sheek]
What? Like I won't run up and break your jaw
like they make a vest for your head to stop the 4
I'm tired of rappin, let's get the mack and send niggas on vacation
right in front of the radio station
motherf*ckers aint quiet til the tech go off
arteries hitted, hawkin, they neck is shit
I'm the motherf*ckin hardest
I smack the shit out of any one of your artists
whatever the label
y'all niggas don't want beef, y'all want meat at the table
and I don't give a f*ck, Sheek'll do life in the box
before any of y'all bitch niggas front on the LOX
What? Motherf*ckers, c'mon

[Jadakiss]
Yo, If I miss your head and your neck, I'll hurt your chest
if you from the streets betrayal is worse than death
and I'm known for gettin money, not known for wildin
but I'm real I could rock both phones in the island
this is how we even the bets
I kill everything you love dog, right now, even the pets
everything got dubs on it, even the vets
50 close, then 50 wide, even the sets
cuz the bullets is like calisthenics when I'm squirtin
when they start hurtin, that means they workin
only way we comin is hard
industry is like jail nigga, double R's runnin the yard, uh
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: EVE JEFFERS, EDDIE HOLLAND, BRIAN HOLLAND, LAMONT HERBERT DOZIER, SHANDEL GREEN, S. MARTIN, J. SMITH, JASON PHILLIPS, DAVID STYLES, SEAN JACOBS, MEL JASON SMALLS
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






What You Ride For?

[Fiend] WHOMP! WHOMP!

[Chorus: Fiend]
What you ride for? What you die for? BOUNCE!
I got some bitches that'll ride for me, die for me (WHOMP!)
What you ride for? What you die for? BOUNCE!
I got some bitches that'll ride for me, die for me (WHOMP! WHOMP!)

[Fiend]
Cornbread by the ki, the language when you call on a G
Prices cut (?) when you ballin on me
Sleepy I'll f*ck all over your jones, holla at my cousin for zones
He don't communicate with Fiend unless you're buildin a home
Hustler kill on his momma, before he short me
Shoot him in his heart then go take it to heart, see gon' mob me (?)
Ghetto red hot, seventeen ward block
Yes I issue more shit for you to cop, then store it by the docks
Hide the fun if you can't afford cops
So ain't no tellin where your boy rots
I employ Rotts that be wildin off the rocks
Speak in fives - like gimme what you got
And still pop a nigga ass from the rooftop
And still catch the 'Kiss performance later with The L.O.X.
We real raw - my dog collar signin with the R and R
F*ck with me you blow up with your car, (?)

[Yung Wun]
How come I don't stop in this
You wanna ride get in and get gone, gotta get my thug on
You wanna war? Okay.. alright.. bring it on
Touch me, you ashes (boy) I'ma leave you gaseous (uh-huh)
I'm a ghetto bastard if I want it let me have it (woo!)
You play the game raw, I make a f*ckin mess (BLAOW!)
You play thug in the streets I'm wavin at your chest (nigga)
You heard about me boy, you don't want no drama
I make it hard for you to breathe in the streets
while finessin your baby momma - get your mind right shawty
while you poppin that X, I'ma pop yo' chest
And leave you dead in the party like soakin wet
That's what happens when you flex
In the A-T-L shawty don't be caught in the hype
I make two phone calls from a pay phone and there go your life

[Chorus - 2X]

[Eightball]
Yeah
I, lock shit like a, big pimp nigga
Eight mackin with no, fake shit nigga
Coast to coast tossin hoes with my clique nigga
Stick my clip in, and do a hit for 'Kiss nigga
Dirty money - the only way for this nigga
Hustle after hustle - tryin to be a rich nigga
If I get caught up, I'll never be a snitch nigga
We pimpin hard charge it all to a bitch nigga
Under my denim is a big fo'-fifth nigga
F*ckin with me is like, jumpin off a cliff nigga
And I don't practice I was born with this gift nigga
Pure pimpin from my brain to my lips nigga
Sticky green takes my mind on a trip nigga
In A-T-L I get my Gucci down at Phipps nigga
We call 'em slabs in New York they call 'em whips nigga
One hundred baby - Eightball gotta dip nigga

[Jadakiss]
Uh, uh, uh-uh-uh
Uh, uh - yo when I'm loadin the clips, niggaz I hate, face be on 'em
That's why I stopped coppin the guns with safeties on 'em
When I touch down, call me up, I'm on the porch
with the mac, servin niggaz "Eightballs" and up
You wanna know why niggaz is broke, because they hate money
The rims that I'm sittin on is in they late twenties
Bitches wanna see me holla at 'em, throw a dollar at 'em and
if they hustle throw some hard or some powder at 'em
This is for my South niggaz
Gold and platinum ice in they mouth niggaz
LET'S RIDE OUT NIGGAZ
Everybody gon' follow the bitches
until they realize, bullets gon' follow the stitches
On the other hand, shit is real low, it's a fact that
nine out of ten niggaz mouths get 'em killed though
What you ride for? What you die for?
Cause I got some niggaz and some bitches that's my word that I kill for

[Chorus - 2X]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JAMES ANDERSON, RICHARD JONES, JASON PHILLIPS, JASON T PHILLIPS, PREMRO VONZELLAIRE SMITH
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC






Uh-Hunh!

Here we go again

[DMX]
Yeah, yo Kiss

[Jada]
What up dog?

[DMX]
These niggas running around here like they controlling this shit

[Jada]
No doubt

[DMX]
Let's show these niggas how to take hold of this shit

[Jada]
That's what I'm talking about baby

[DMX]
For real baby

[Jada]
Let's get it on

[DMX]
I only gave you the crown so I could shoot it off your f*cking head
Why y'all niggas f*cking dead, you heard what the f*ck I said
I talk shit cause I walk shit, start shit, New York shit
The hawk shit, spark shit, the dark shit
And it been that way, f*ck how a nigga live it's gon' end that way
Niggas is part of a game that I don't play
Never catch dog carrying what I don't weigh
That's three 45s, one 38, 173 pounds straight out the gate
I don't hate, got no beef but knock a nigga off quick
And I'm mad like a bitch and a nigga with a soft dick
Get off this, f*cking with X, but on some other shit
Why the f*ck you f*cking with X? You must be f*cking with X
Go catch a chicken, f*cking with me you goin' catch a whipping

[Jadakiss and DMX]
Here we go again [x8]

[Jadakiss]
Look don't try to apologize on your two way
Sympathy don't amuse me, go get your uzi
And let's make a real movie
Play bad guy and good guy til the hood die
Toast why y'all cowards
Now I know the reason why Pac ain't really like most why y'all cowards
I'ma show you how to swing the chrome for real
Dog this year we goin' bring it home for real
What you want to bet the llama'll squash you
I been had a white fan base before the signing of Marshall
Boy Kiss is thorough, hit your girl
Put it all up her stomach til she earl
Why y'all niggas ain't nice ya lucky
So f*ck it I'ma sell dope long as the price is lovely
And it ain't only the voice it's the bars of death
DMX and Jadakiss nigga guard ya chest

[Chorus]

[DMX]
When is they getting off our dicks, them niggas is clowns
How many dogs you let go up, still getting down
Like 'face said, last of a dying breed
For stomach and I feed still trying to eat
Lead by greed that's when you f*ck up
Why y'all niggas gonna know when we hungry, you get stuck up
(What what?)
What's up? F*ck a nigga yelling
Why-O motherf*cker for real, yo Kiss tell 'em

[Jadakiss]
Sheet could kill, stomp niggas out boot the grill
I'll give you a reason why I'm the truth for real
Niggas can't f*ck with Kiss, I mean that
Had to stop eating red meat cause I ate too many Beanie-Macs
I'm not one of them niggas and since you so righteous
Don't make me send your ass to Ala quicker
Niggas gas you to force your hand
Realistically you just a worker and your boss is my man

[x2]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JASON T PHILLIPS, R. SALAS, ERIC SIMMONS, T WEISMAN
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC






Feel Me

All I want you to do is feel me,
Why take time out, to give you the real me,
Uh, uh, uh
Hey yo I grew up very athletic, hard headed
Thought I knew everything, wanted to do everything
I was spoiled, stubborn, the only child
So the only thing I could do was hold it down
Now this is something that I could tell you that's no bullshit
I always been wicked with the flow since a lil kid
My first addiction, GI Joes and icies
After that it was light skinned girls and Nikes
Breeze through junior high school, then high school
Couple of semesters of college and then night school
Moms start riffing, talking 'bout how she can't support a grown man
So the god start flipping
Pops used to say shit, but never to me much
Was like he wasn't even there 'cause we ain't agree much
Used to be gone for whole weeks at a time
Puffin one eleven, used to roll three out a dime
Then I found myself sleeping in late, doing nothing
F*cking, running with the niggas that was hustling
Shop wasn't open then, niggas was working for a pair of Jordans
The next two weeks they was broke again
Me and K keep havin talks of getting coke again
But the block was crowded we waiting for an opening
Meanwhile shit still slow we still flowing
Never stop or look back we still going
Bop passed the demo to Mary then she passed it to cousin
We thought it was on but it wasn't
And we can't blame nobody
Look at us now dog, we came in the game nobodies
Double are and Interscope, put that cake up
And we ain't go platinum but we made niggas wake up
Got 'em all talking 'bout pumping the brick
And they only go and see papi to get something to sniff
I'm 'bout to f*ck the game up for real like in the World Series
Nigga that parachute down in the field
I don't rap I provide you bars
And the pain is invisible, but you can't hide the scars
So y'all never be on the level that we're on
Ability to have dope thoughts and spit heroin
I'm good just waking up
That's how I know I got one more chance to go and cash in and cake it up...
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ALAN MAMAN, JASON PHILLIPS, JASON T PHILLIPS
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC






Keep Ya Head Up

[kid trying to sound like he's crying]

[Jadakiss] Whattup little man? What's the matter?
[lil' man] I wish I didn't have to be here
[Jadakiss] It's not that bad..
Could always be worse, yaknahmsayin?
All you gotta do, is stay in school
Anything you wanna do you could do yaknahmsayin baby?
No matter what though, gotta keep your head up to the sky

[Jadakiss]
This goes out to, all the infants
in this cold world that was born addicted
And to all the section eight kids
Just remember these four words y'all - we gon' make it
The government keep on tryin to fool us
The system, keep on tryin to lose us
And all we can do is keep buyin computers
And log on now 'fore it start goin down
We gotta hold our head, keep our pride
Though it hurts when I see people sleep outside
Little babies with no socks on, eatin popcorn
We all know what they moms and they pops on
Out go the love when the drugs come
They never got nuttin for Christmas, and they ain't Muslim
This is a jewel, a lot of us was them
This is a jewel, a lot of us was them

[Chorus: Ann Nesby]
Your head to the sky.. my my, my
You can win - you can win - if you keep your head
As long as you keep - your head - your head to the sky
My my, my..

[Jadakiss]
Uhh, to my lockdown niggaz keep your head in the sky
To my shot down niggaz keep your head in the sky
I don't know if it's better to ride, or better to die
And that's why there's red in my eye
Cause people don't know what the ghetto is like
Either you make it out, or the terrible life
I don't wanna be a broke bastard
And everybody in the hood got somebody in they fam' with a coke habit
You work for minimum wage
I'ma get in the game, get shot or a bid in the cage
It's a risk I gotta take - and I'ma be the nigga
with the bricks and the stash and the biscuit outta state
And even though I'm blessed with the gift
I gotta move cause the pain and the sickness gotta wait
I go extremely hard - why let up?
And I can breathe long as I keep my head up

[Chorus w/ minor variations]

[Jadakiss]
Uhh, uhh - uh-huh, uhh - uh..
Aiyyo I come from a place where it's three strikes out
And your life's on the line, so we iced out
Summertime gettin money, three dice out
Tanktops, and jean shorts, we Niked out
Headbands, and four wheelers
Jeeps and Coupes and convos, about who know more killers
It's all wrong but it's all right
It's a small world; matter fact it's a small life
We all trip but the way to survive
is hold your head and make sure you fall right
And it's a quite fact, that whatever goes around comes right back
It's just like that
And we tryin to touch major paper
Everybody in the struggle it gets greater later
Never say can't, it's better to try
And you can breathe long as you keep your head in the sky

[Ann Nesby]
Don't you let nobody stop you, mm
Heyy, heyyy, yeahhh!

[Chorus - 2X w/ variations]

[ad libs and Chorus by Ann Nesby to the end]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CHUCKY THOMPSON, GARY HINES, GARY DENNIS HINES, IMSOMIE LEEPER, JAMES HARRIS III, JAMES SAMUEL III HARRIS, JASON PHILLIPS, JASON T PHILLIPS, TERRY LEWIS
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.






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Back to: Jadakiss


Kiss tha Game Goodbye is the debut studio album by American rapper Jadakiss. Originally scheduled for an April 18th, 2000 release, the album was ultimately released on August 7, 2001, by Ruff Ryders Entertainment and Interscope Records. The album debuted at number five on the US Billboard 200 and number two on the Top R&B/Hip-Hop Albums chart.

The album debuted at number five on the US Billboard 200 selling 204,000 copies in its first week. It was eventually certified gold by the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA) for sales of over 500,000 copies in the United States. As of June 2004, the album has sold 877,000 copies.
Performed By: Jadakiss
Genre(s): East Coast hip hop
Length: 76:39
Released: August 7th, 2001
Year: 2001

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