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Artist/Band:
Jim Jones
Lyrics for Song: Na Na NaNa Na Na
Lyrics for Album: Pray IV Reign [2009]
Dipset (Owww)
As we proceed, what have we here? (take that take that)
It's 0-9 muthafucka
One thing to do
To get money muthafucka
Verse 1:
I pulled off like na na nana na na
They would of tried some bullshit, a nigga had his blammer (Try again)
They only got me cuz they caught it on a camera
They wanna ball but they ain't got no stamina (weak knees)
They said "Damn man, you lookin' like Pac"
I said, "Naw, not alive, man I'm lookin' like Jones" (Capo)
Besides I put money on your skull and bones
And keep it low, watch what you say up on them fuckin' phones
(Shhhh, be quiet)
Touch down, and get yo' ass hung the fuck up just like a bunch of clothes
Hey ma we stretch work like you touch your toes
And in the middle of July we got that summer snow
I got 'em snowboarding in August and I love a pretty bitch but the Porsche it look gorgeous
Harlem, is one big ski slalom
I guess the hill is like the Swiss Alps, we bring them whips out
Chorus:
We gettin' money like na na nana na na
Waitin' on the flash throwin' money at the cameras
Twin turbs out speeding with the scanners
Breeze past the cops screamin' na na nana na na
(We gettin' money like na na nana na na
Lookin' at my ass, don't you wish he had a camera
We gettin' money like na na nana na na
Drop top at the light screamin' life is good)
Verse 2:
If there's money on my head I hope they got a receipt
Cool your old ass off cuz it's hot on these streets (Be easy)
I got dogs and they not on a leash
So you hope you understand, do you copy, capiche? (Comprende?)
At this point I don't think they could take it
Sharks in the water, they won't make it to safety (He drown)
And even though that we been gettin' cakey
Now the money taste sweet like pastry, they hate me (back at you)
Now tell me how I look
Would you rather live life like me or by the book?
Sheesh, we are what we are
Make the wrong move will put your faggot ass in the ER
(he's not gonna make it, clear)
Flat line, if it's red apples fallin' hit me on the bat line
I'm back for mine, suttin' all black flyin'
The flyest nigga you know that got a knack for crime, eh-na na
Chorus:
We gettin' money like na na nana na na
Waitin' on the flash throwin' money at the cameras
Twin turbs out speeding with the scanners
Breeze past the cops screamin' na na nana na na
(We gettin' money like na na nana na na
Lookin' at my ass, don't you wish he had a camera
We gettin' money like na na nana na na
Drop top at the light screamin' life is good)
Verse 3:
And what you do nigga?
I cop cars out the future, pockets all fat like Raspusha
I think I'm gettin' used to the lifestyle, rich and conspicuous
Chicks want to get with us, the feds takin' flicks of us (Say cheese)
They all know I put on for Harlem
Tell Rich Porter we fone took it up another level (God bless him)
I took 80, blew it on a bezel (And)
Bought the new Fiskar, flew it through the ghetto (15th St)
The definition of opulence
The jewels drippin', we droppin' on top and poppin' shit (splash)
Who would think that this kid from the projects
Get his neck so cold you would think he's lethargic (i'm froze up)
The wrist look like hypothermia set in (What)
Pick a club night that the burner don't get in
We pop champagne until the club let out (And)
I drink and I fuck and then I piss a nigga rent out
Chorus:
We gettin' money like na na nana na na
Waitin' on the flash throwin' money at the cameras
Twin turbs out speeding with the scanners
Breeze past the cops screamin' na na nana na na
(We gettin' money like na na nana na na
Lookin' at my ass, don't you wish he had a camera
We gettin' money like na na nana na na
Drop top at the light screamin' life is good)
You know the rules nigga?
Fly high or get flew over
Roll with us or get rolled over, ain't nuttin' change
Just the decimal point muthafucka, you get the point?
Money, money, money
Don't make dollars, it don't make sense
Fuck you nigga, suck a dick too, Jones
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| Album Lyrics: Pray IV Reign [2009] |
Jim Jones
"Pray IV Reign [2009]"
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