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jag - intro lyrics
[intro]
mic west
yeah
this ya boy jag
dakun’s got it
they want the king joffrey sh-t
that’s that five star sh-t you know
west adams, amg n-gg-, what’s happenin’?
[verse 1]
cuz say he want that raw sh-t
break a n-gg- jaw sh-t
k!ll a n-gg-, saw sh-t
seal a n-gg-, aw, sh-t
boss sh-t, goody sh-t
dutch bag, woody sh-t
summer time, 90 outside, black hoodie sh-t
swear they want that old jag, want me in my old bag
ballin’ out this world, ’06 derek rose jag
b-tches came to see me whenever they need they nose tagged
n-gg-s brought they girl around, seal and got they ho smashed
mama used to work a lot, i learned how to fly by
learned about the beef that’s in the streets, i’m on my five guy
they want me on my block sh-t, they don’t want the fly guy
they want me with the window half down doin’ drive-by
i guess i gotta dress for the job, tryna get tailored
and i keep the beam, you know i ain’t tryna get lasered
my n-gg- hit me up and he said he tryna get flavors
fiends in the trap with no money tryna get favors (f-ck that)
i saw my n-gg-s sending dope to jail, real talk
eyeballin’ grams ’cause the lil’ homie broke the scale
i know some n-gg-s hope i won’t prevail
they want the bro to fail, happy if i die or if i go to jail
any time i feel the beat, f-ck around and k!ll the beat
’cause i ain’t have a meal to eat, my n-gg-s had to steal to eat
i’m still broke, but still the best in my f-ckin’ city
hard to keep faith when you know she was f-ckin’ biggie
come from where you get your -ss jumped ‘fore they shot you
where the ygs fade for ogs yellin’, “i got you”
i saw my mama speak to god, like “lord help him out there
help him live, i’m begging you, help him keep a job”
she almost cried, i let her meet the squad
whole bunch of bloods, whole bunch of drugs, crazy how i beat the odds
and where i’m from they rep a flag n-gg-, red or blue
and you gotta pick a swag, so what set are you?
where the b-tches even bang, yeah, i done met a few
my n-gg- told me life is a b-tch, i had to let her through
oh yeah, i come from where they bang and they movin’ rocks
come from where it never rain unless we shootin’ shots
i remember back when n.w.a had the guns in the stu’
got me thinkin’ ’bout me shootin’ cops
they want the real, they better show son a check
the newest n-gg-, homie, show some respect
king jag (woo)
[outro]
yeah
y’all know what it is, boy
first alb-m out
south central jag
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