Testo Bright Lights, Big City - Jim Jones feat. Max B
Testo della canzone Bright Lights, Big City (Jim Jones feat. Max B), tratta dall'album Jim Jones / Hustler's P.O.M.E. (Product Of My Environment)
This is the dream of a hustler
I had the butter then the fiends was in love with us
We got the gutter not a team that could fuck with us
And word to mother keep the thing in every truck with us
I was frontin like Rich was in some of my pictures
From goin so hard got some of us picked up
Minor setbacks got some of us tripped up
But guns we done gripped up so we comin to get ya
And fuck the local authorities
And hope the big boys don't pick up my case
Cause for these big toys and the chips we could chase
Playin ball just like the Orioles to get to first base
But who's on second, what's on third
You know we move with the weapons get bucks off birds
Damn it's like I'm playin chicken with my life
Tryna get this paper movin pictures for a price
I'm havin bad hours with them niggas
Baby we gettin figures
It's Byrd Gang, we doin it big
Pour the Da'wa up, got the Remy I need a cup
It's lookin good, can I get a swig?
I don't think you want it with them niggas
Cause them hammers they won't hesitate to squeeze
We on the road, travel across the globe
All my homies eatin, we gettin cheese
The nightmares of a trap star
White tee, Nike Airs and my fast car
D.A. tryna wrap me in a charge
I just brought some V's in a pack to my garage
Now me rappin what's the odds
We the last crew standing Diplomats now in charge
300 For the light show
Another hundred on the hand to watch the ice glow
Another 10 grand to watch the dice roll
I'm tryna let you muh'fuckers see this how my life go
The bright lights of this big city
I live that night life till the pigs get me
Range Rov' and big truck series
The chain frozen big truck jewelry
White girl say he's awesome and cool
But you don't wanna cross him cause he got a short fuse
I'm havin bad hours with them niggas
Baby we gettin figures
It's Byrd Gang, we doin it big
Pour the Da'wa up, got the Remy I need a cup
It's lookin good, can I get a swig?
I don't think you want it with them niggas
Cause them hammers they won't hesitate to squeeze
We on the road, travel across the globe
All my homies eatin, we gettin cheese
We live life on reality
And we flip white for our salary
You might catch us at the light in a lavish V
But watch the blue and white, they try grab a G
We makin some chips so the hate's gettin thick
Watch the world through my tints, smokin haze in the whip
Contemplate, maybe take a lil trip
Ocean Drive, heavy bling and my neck chilly
Call a cab, slushy drinks out of Wet Willies
Y'all swear y'all ballin but you're foolish
Gettin locked up for crimes and your lawyers ain't Jewish
That's why I keep attorneys on retainer
Cause every time I turn I'm gettin chanked up
They say that they wanna search or detain us
I think they mad we from the turf and we came up
And my whole team on ice we play rough like the Rangers
I'm havin bad hours with them niggas
Baby we gettin figures
It's Byrd Gang, we doin it big
Pour the Da'wa up, got the Remy I need a cup
It's lookin good, can I get a swig?
I don't think you want it with them niggas
Cause them hammers they won't hesitate to squeeze
We on the road, travel across the globe
All my homies eatin, we gettin cheese
I don't think you want it with them niggas
Cause them hammers they won't hesitate to squeeze
We on the road, travel across the globe
All my homies eatin, we gettin cheese
Credits
Writer(s): Norman Jesse Whitfield, Joseph Jones, Charly Wingate
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