G-joint Lyrics - Time Is Money - Styles P

"Yo I rock the fuck out. 

I dont know bout everyone else" 

Verse 1 - Styles P 

Whatever we dont make, we gona take mofucker. 

Get this straight and fix your face. 

I aint gotta sell millions. Im in the buildins 

with poppy comin thru with them bricks by eight. 

Listen cocksucker and clown 

Ill be leaving you cut. 

Youre like a dutch hound, bustin ya down. 

Niggaz driving in a circle wit your hoe in the back. 

Be the only damn way Ill be fuckin around. 

And I'm aiming for yo waist, hopin you duck 

So i can bust you in the head when im buckin tha pound. 

And I told you that Im holiday Styles 

Lets celebrate. 

Heard you gettin money, Ill rob you right now. 

And you gon get popped in the head. 

True Story. 

Crips do they thing in blue gloves, pop off some red. 

Me, I'm on the move only stopping for bread. 

Double R and D-Block nigga, copper and lead. 

Whaddup! 

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Styles P Talking: 

"Stay in the zone" 

Verse 2 - Styles P 

I dont know why the fuck you amped yo. 

Got hoodrat bitches carryin birds on the public transpo. 

Niggaz in the hood that go out like Rambo. 

They hot since 138th had that? 

Young Buck, Dumb Fuck 

Two Gunz up, ride or die til the suns up. 

Gangsta and a Gentleman dogg, 

I got class, Ima send a bunch a roses to your men in tha morgue. 

Ill be down south bendin a whore 

Pretendin im on. 

Thirty on eighty-five like Jay Barnes Sean Paul. 

Beef wit New York rappers, I'm killin em all. 

On my Slick Rick shit, y'all could lick the balls. 

I been cool cuz niggaz is asthma 

Fuck that, might as well call me pool cuz im gettin splashed 

And that Lamborghini liftin tha stash 

Even gettin the mass while some haze be mixed wit the hash. 

Whaddup! 

Photos 

J-Hood Talking: 

"Pass that blunt nigga" 

Verse 3 - J-Hood 

Im in the hood where the eggs get knocked off. 

Gangmembers find they family members with both of they legs chopped off. 

Niggaz aint scrappin, they bangin ya 

The judge dont need a tree branch when they hangin ya 

All y'all fags'll get ate like clams. 

This is a blood sport bitch, You could call me J Van Dam. 

All these so called "Guerrillas" be tellin' 

Ima rag on these Thoughts of a Predicate Felon. Motherfucker 

Homie, what you want, the blade or the slug 

Im the one that send the order when they sprayed up the club. 

Bitch nigga, bow your head in the presence of G's 

Load the lead up and squeeze. 

Im a great dane, niggaz is fleas. 

Fuckin rats cant wait to call cops, 

Til I make em sick and put pellets in they mouth like cough drops. 

J-Hood bitch, my name rang in the ghetto. 

Cuz im O.G. and I play the streetz like a chello.