Lyrics Language: Scots Song writer/composer(s): Jayson Phillips, Kaseem Dean, Darrin Dean
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LoxBlood Pressure Lyrics:
The headphones is on fire dis time around, Styles
Blood Pressure
Y'all just bear wit me
Yo, last time I'ma tell these niggas, man
Can't fuck around, man
Jada, man
Whoever
Old nigga, new nigga
Wha!! Yo, yo, yo...
Verse 1: Jadakiss
Who really da best rapper since B.I.G. ain't here
Y'all know da answer to dat when Kiss ain't here
When you see me, don't ask me nothin about us
And don't definatly ask me nothin about...
Fuck it
You owe me one, I owe you two
I woulda smacked you wit da
burner, but I know you'd sue
And I ain't talkin to him
I'm talkin to you
Matter of fact, I'm talkin to y'all
Life is like walkin a yard
Nigga'll stab you wit a fork in da heart
And The Source got muthafuckas thinkin they hot
Like my dope
Got fiends thinkin they shot
When you thinkin of da best, nigga
Think of The Lox
I'll cut ya fuckin hand off if ya pinky ring's hot
Then come thru ya block in a sticky green drop
Hop out
Let off fifty-three shots
Wouldn't care if I hit fifty-three cops
Guliani might as well be merkin niggas
Cuz the time that he givin out is hurtin niggas
And all these record label's jerkin niggas
And you never was a thug, you's a workin nigga
And you heard that shit right there?
I started that
Don't make me put somethin up in ya Starter hat
No matter who you are, or where you from
Screw all of dat
I'm not tryin to hear dat, son
Hook: 2x
Now, who da fuck y'all want? (Jadakiss!!)
And who da fuck y'all need? (Jadakiss!!)
And who da fuck gon' bleed?
All y'all hataz, cuz none of y'all
niggas (can't fuck wit Jada!!)
Verse 2: Jadakiss
Don't you be dat clown nigga in da back of da whip
That's gon' get the second half of da clip
And all I'm sayin, it'll be da
other nigga in the front of
the da whip
Runnin his lip, wit a gun on his hip
Feel me dawg?
Everybody walk da walk 'til they run into Kiss
Then, they get stabbed, or hung,
or stung wit da fifth
How you think ya man hard when son on my dick?
Cuz I can get his ass body, plus front him a brick
Got a chick named Super-head
She give super-head
Just moved in the buildin,
even gave the super head
I cop big guns that spit super lead
So, play Superman, end up super dead
Call ne Kiss, or da kid from The Lox
That'll twist ya moms out and do a bid wit ya pops
We was in jail, you probably won't get no mail
And if you pumped on my block,
you won't get no sales
When ya CEO know you can't fuck wit I
I make a million by June
I'm sayin fuck July
And I beg you to try me while I'm holdin da Tommy
I'ma have ya body all over da lobby
I already helped y'all
I'm about to melt y'all
Tell the truth, dawg
I ain't never felt y'all
This album, we gon' bubble like Seltzer
If it ain't Double R, who da hell else is hard?!
The lyrics on the most recent version are sanctioned by the composer, or owner of the rights to the lyrics, however, there may be lyrics that are more complete on the prior version(s) that have been submitted by a contributor to mp3lyrics.org
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