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Jim Jones
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Pin the Tail [Explicit]
Lyricist:C Giles, L James, E Jones, Jim Jones, C Wingate
Bird gang Club Banger Tryin' to holla at you shorty One focus, one focus only Tryin' to hit that thang, let's go
We make hits in the studio nightly We out trying to get this money We take trips in the winter in jet planes To climates where it's sunny
We got mami on the dance floor Grindin' to the beat, tipsy off the bubbly But at the end of the day, we feelin' to play I'm tryin' to pin the tail on the donkey
It goes yes, yes yo, fresh to death balla You can play hard, under pressure I'm stoned We playin' tight D, I'm in the paint like a G Some say they gangstas but they ain't like me
Came from an environment, came I was firin' Then hit the dealers see the range I was buyin' Don't test drive like a whole whip like you should Shoving up pies, a whole whip that you should
Then take the proceeds, waist about four G's Bottles in the club tryin' to get the home and skeez I'm tryin' to get the dame to breeze But she putting up a fight like Layla Ali
I told the lady I'll be doin' the turnpike 80 in the fly V Middle name 40 on the wrist Last name you can't afford me bitch Get a camcorder bitch
We make hits in the studio nightly We out trying to get this money We take trips in the winter in jet planes To climates where it's sunny
We got mami on the dance floor Grindin' to the beat, tipsy off the bubbly But at the end of the day, we feelin' to play I'm tryin' to pin the tail on the donkey
Cases of purée, rosé Look like Picasso painted on the bottles We throwin' money, we lookin' like lotto's I could cover chicks with cheese like nachos
Fly out the cove, land in the heat where New York to Miami bitch Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Bitch, I'm in the life of a hood star, rock star without the guitar Got em' all rubbin' they bitch bra
Got em' all shakin' their tush like I'ma givin' 'em a taste of the good life But I give 'em a taste of the good liquor, a taste of the good bud Next thing you know she'll be tastin' my good
I get money be quiet, you talkin' to the jolly green giant I see it, I like it, I buy it Baby I'm flyer then a pilot Flyin' at his highest, climb it
We make hits in the studio nightly We out trying to get this money We take trips in the winter in jet planes To climates where it's sunny
We got mami on the dance floor Grindin' to the beat, tipsy off the bubbly But at the end of the day, we feelin' to play I'm tryin' to pin the tail on the donkey
Where are my homies? Up to no good Where are my homies? Yup I'm so hood What up pimpin', pimpin', I'm exempt already See my hoes are like my plates, temporary
Act nil you beat it, move on strategic The marbles man, yup the floors are heated Cam half pound a quart a kid better ask 'round I'm sorta needed mack rounds you're deceited
In the 90's, Z3, BB's Now in the crib the TVs watch TVs Killen Killen, mo killen and then a kitty purrs Fuck furs, his and hers, Bentley spurs
Gun talk, real talk, speak mack to mack We like the Pistons, Bulls, you know back to back Mazirattis back to back, come ride wit me On 11 hundred, not the pipe, two five fifties
We make hits in the studio nightly We out trying to get this money We take trips in the winter in jet planes To climates where it's sunny
We got mami on the dance floor Grindin' to the beat, tipsy off the bubbly But at the end of the day, we feelin' to play I'm tryin' to pin the tail on the donkey
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