Jim Jones - C.F.W.U. lyrics

[Produced by: AraabMuzik] [Verse 1: Cam'ron] Yo, I had a dream Hud 6 Said 'k**a Yo, k**a, you put the real in rap' And your style, man your style, he be stealin' that' And those n***as uptown, we gon' be feelin' that But with that deep sh** You gon' be feelin' that f** the schools Jumped in and pushed the ceiling back And if it tires like the orange I was peelin' that Pardon my absence I was spendin' too much time In the Aspens, k**in' ‘em off with asprin I ain't talkin' slopes When I say skeet up And this movie money got me with my feet up Percentage do come in I should name it the re-up We up, TBE, no-one can defeat me Shawn That n***a money made The weather don't matter, I fly to a sunny day I backed out fact, man Who wanna come and play? You ain't got to run away, british Go put the gun away I'm gone I smoke spliffs On my lawn I'm slicker than the Fonz With more kicks than Solange Cool sh**, waistline Full clip them off Finish with the judges With tha' bullsh** they on We started gifts with a train Dealt with part of the team [Verse 2: Jim Jones] In 98′ k**a went platinum Then broke jaws for the team Them big stupid old mansions Ain't nuttin' change but the mansions I'm still in the cut with a bad b**h Lettin' that champagne spill while I'm dancing The all by just text me Said the Lord's always gon' bless me I pray you, I got the gun on me If a n***a eva try to scratch me I still k** for k**as, make one call for my dealer In a hall of war, in the summertime we still do Four wheelers Rich Porter Brick orders one n***a won six quarters Still f** on that white girl But I'm gettin' money with that b**h daughter (Hey, molly) Brenda had a baby When I had Mercedes I'm a serial k**a Just might stab yo lady [Verse 3: Hell Rell] Cam certified me on day one I shot a n***a on day two Bought a Benz on day three See why these n***as hatin' me? I'm Mr. Ruga I'm still as the shooter Baby We both got a Mac, but his a computer Got yo sh** in the stupor Put yo b**h in Aruba She came back with a tan I sent her back to her man He lookin' for me in the club I'm in the back bustin' champ' 30 racks in my hand Clap you and yo man b**h Spread the word, go tell ‘em we dippin' Again Shout out to Plugs No name, but he settlin' in Ride around Drop Rari, colors Cinnamon Temps Shootah got Glock n***a sneeze and the n***a abyss Every time I pull up I look like a brick-a cooker Yo BM in my DM talkin' bout when we gon' hook up Somebody slipped her a pill She on the bad back Straight shotta k**a hunt n***as Like a Mad Max Yeah!