Lyrics

[Intro: Juelz Santana] Yeah, uh-ooo! (Come on, come on) Roll with me, it's Santana I'd like to welcome y'all (yeah) to the great Fuck with ya boy! (Once again) Zeek! [Verse 1: Juelz Santana] Now I got more than my swagger back Listen here homie, Mr. Mick Jagger's back (uh-oo!) Young Zab of rap, only difference is this Judah'll shoot ya Then get back to rappin' Traffick crack through half Manhat-tan Make stacks and stacks and that's a fact, man Y'all can't fuck with me Baby girl, I drag my nuts for free, comfortably And ya know I got my pimpin' together Got my game, got my 'cane, got my limpin' together Shit, bitch you better get your switchin' together Cause this back-hand'll get you together, hope you know that And sometime I can't believe my niggas Still in all, I'll give my arm just to feed my niggas Eat, don't stop homie, breathe my niggas I need y'all more than y'all ever need me my niggas [Chorus: Juelz Santana] This is for all my niggas on the block that's pumpin' I think the cops is comin' (Squalie!) All my homies on the block with somethin' Hold it down I think the cops is comin (Squalie!) For all my chicks on the strip that switch Be easy, I think the cops is comin' (Squalie!) All my ladies who boost for higher Prada, Gucc' attire watch who's behind ya (Squalie!) [Verse 2: Juelz Santana] Yo, we livin the life of Loca-vida, coke and cheeba Drive-by blow smoke on the policia Like fuck 'em, I got no love for 'em (Squalie!) But I'm tired of runnin' from (Squalie!) Duckin' from (Squalie!) Shit, and we ain't do nothin' to (Squalie!) It's payback we buckin' at (Squalie!) No more gettin' searched, frisked for nothin' by (Squalie!) Ay, so sell ya pack Sell ya crack like when dickens was near Juelz Santana Dickens is here, yeah So Zeke is ya rollin' with me? This the theme song, homie, fuck the police We back at it, our crack habit is that drastic Measures we takin' 'em, makin' we'll clap at ya Peel off on dirt bikes and raptors Squirt pipes at bastards, y'all can't fuck with me [Chorus: Juelz Santana] This is for all my niggas on the block that's pumpin' I think the cops is comin' (Squalie!) All my homies on the block with somethin' Hold it down I think the cops is comin (Squalie!) For all my chicks on the strip that switch Be easy, I think the cops is comin' (Squalie!) All my ladies who boost for higher Prada, Gucc' attire watch who's behind ya (Squalie!) [Verse 3: J.R. Writer] Hey ma, its J.R. and L's, it ain't hard to tell We them niggas in Mauri and Karl Lagerfeld With that hard to sell that ain't hard to sell And a gun that'll hit you from far as hell You quick to flash, we'll whip yo' ass Couple shots hit your glass, dip shit ya whip'll crash I got the sickest past, stay skippin' class, pitchin' hash All day, stood there flippin' halves When I heard (Squalie!), I dished and dashed, ditched the hash Park, neutral, first gear, hit the gas, now we rich with cash And when I hear (Squalie!), I sit and laugh Dawg, you kiss his ass, cooked more 'caine, push off dames While you dumb niggas stand there, and look all lame I done popped and took off chains Now Ivory dump ice on me like my team won a football game [Chorus: Juelz Santana] This is for all my niggas on the block that's pumpin' I think the cops is comin' (Squalie!) All my homies on the block with somethin' Hold it down I think the cops is comin (Squalie!) For all my chicks on the strip that switch Be easy, I think the cops is comin' (Squalie!) All my ladies who boost for higher Prada, Gucc' attire watch who's behind ya (Squalie!)