Текст песни Song Boxing - Jim Jones
There's
no
subliminals,
I
don't
be
boxing
in
my
songs
If
I
hate
you,
then
I
should
put
you
in
a
box
where
you
belong
But
half
you
niggas
pussy
like
you
might
be
rockin'
thongs
Any
time
when
I
get
locked,
even
when
cops
was
in
the
wrong
What
I
do?
Call
my
lawyer,
up
out
of
the
box
up
in
the
morning
I
was
a
young,
dirty
nigga
with
a
Glock
up
in
my
palm
Now
I'm
a
rich,
dirty
nigga
with
some
rocks
up
in
my
charm
Snakes
up
in
the
grass,
then
we
choppin'
down
the
lawn
Fucker,
big
choppers
in
the
foreign
I'm
vicious
in
the
game,
ain't
no
stoppin'
me
from
scorin'
Ace
of
Spades
championship,
poppin'
and
pourin'
If
they
call,
tell
'em
call
back,
it's
really
not
that
important
I'm
speakin'
right
now,
I
need
you,
pay
me
attention
I
used
to
cut
class,
I
didn't
want
no
attention
So
chill,
little
mama,
you
don't
need
none
of
this
I'm
ill,
little
mama,
hundred
G's
each
wrist
So
when
I
throw
up
gang
signs,
two
hundred
G's
in
my
flick
I
been
ready
to
die
like
B.I.G.
was
in
this
bitch,
nigga
1 Cristal Occasions
2 Love of the Hustle
3 Make No Issues of It
4 State of the Union
5 Pity in the Summer (feat. Cam'ron, Rain, Fred the Godson & Marc Scibilia)
6 Cocaine Dreamin
7 Mama I Made It
8 To Whom it May Concern (feat. Cam'ron, Guordan Banks, Benny the Butcher & Conway the Machine)
9 Sports Cars
10 Song Boxing
11 Bread Right
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