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Ol Thang Back Lyrics - Artist : Juelz Santana
Listen, you might learn some
Jahlil Beats, holla at me Jadakiss where you been, where you at This rap is wack I want that old thing back I want that old thing back [Jadakiss:] Some niggas tell a lot, some niggas sell a lot Some niggas used to be mad nice, then fell a lot Albums still trash I don't care who the hell you got Portraying the role of a G, we can tell you not Sorry to bother you, I'm only doing what a father do Your production is horrible, you'll forever be a nerd And your metaphors are better off, never being heard I came in grinding, Puff made me shining Put 'em both together, a protege of the 90's Grew up, put that bullshit behind me Started making niggas demises untimely Looking for me, come to the hood you can find me Gucci belt right on the waist where the 9 be .38 right in the garbage, where the packs at M1 right in the trunk, where the jacks at Whoever is in arm length will get backslapped Cause I ain't playing with these rap cats This is the flow you can't learn The dutch you can't burn Nigga, I've got stripes you can't earn Method Man, where you been where you at These rap niggas is wack, I want that old thang back Yeah, I want that old thang back Yeah, I want that old thang back [Method Man:] You got the M.E, the M.E., the M.E., the M., M., M., The M.E.T.H.O.D. Man You need a dopefiend track Let me shoot up and lean back With this needle stuck in my arm, never tuck in my charm Most my team sling crack If I hit every corner with G packs Might cause the man DC to relapse I'm a Hip hop junkies, who needs rap? MC's wack, Killerbees is back in the booth Mind your beeswax And fuck a style that you got We blow a cap at any Energizer bunny right where his battery at Look, the bastard child of Clarence Thomas and Reagonomics On every 1st and 15th make sure you pay me homage Might break a promise but never breaking the code Got the floor safe, coke in the pot, fiend at the stove Meth, rock a W on my clothes I'm a straight rider, straight to the W with these hoes I'm straight fire, these motherfuckers is froze Like a skinny supermodel that like to powder her nose [Method Man:] Redman, where you been where you at These rap niggas is wack, I want that old thang back I want that old thang back I want that old thang back [Redman:] Dope boy, I'm like Rick James, I got that old thang I got a gold chain, [?] with gold frames Doc doing the runnerman on Soul Train With a chinese girl, the chicken get Lo Mein Propane for the raw, I put her on the streets My thoughts, the blue magic put on the beats Game time, Doc rocket like Dominique Straight vegetarian nigga and ignore the beef Yeah, Kyrie keep the blow smoking Slide in the club, cool like the floor frozen Check out the wild thang got a Tone Lōco Big ass and high heels with the toes open That's me, 90's MC Fuck a Grammy awards, underground is tax free Look in the mirror I feel fantastic The mirror said 'you are, you conceited bastard' [Busta Rhymes:] Santana, where you been where you These rap niggas is wack, I want that old thang back I want that old thang back Tell 'em I want that old thang back [Juelz Santana:] I came to bring the pain Put niggas to shame, simple and plain They gon' remember my name And it's all for respect not fame So don't play with me You could give 'em rope, they still can't hang with me Pass the baton, they still can't race with me So far ahead of these niggas they still chasing me I wouldn't be surprised if niggas ghostwriters got ghostwriters Nothing cease to amaze you Labels used to care, even though they was raping me Now it's 360 deals, modern day slavery Fuck you, who payin' me, I'm the one recording We'll sue you for extortion or fame over fortune The game done changed, the sound done changed All these niggas sound the same The word loyalty don't even sound the same Good thing I keep the pound, when it bang it always sound the same I aim at the game, the real shall remain Neck full of water like I drowned my chain Flier than a nigga jumping out the plane Higher than you niggas, you can find the strain Better than you niggas that's without me saying Treat the money like the work, we don't count, we weigh it For this amount we aim it, blaze it, flame it [?] big as a shower head, you don't want me spraying Enough with the mumble jumble Santana back though, can I get a drum roll? Whole lotta kush and it's stuffed in a fronto Fiends still say my work taste like gumbo Yeah, bring that old thang back I was told to whip it up and bring the whole thang back When I was pumping coke, you was jumping rope I was runnin' out of bags, you was playing tag While you was hop scotching, I was drop shopping At the dealer paying cash for them paper tags While you was pop locking, I was Glock popping Getting to the cash, brown paper bags Blowing money fast and it never last Yeah, they make it fast, barely make it back Haters gonna suffer, I'm okay with that All this garbage, time to throw away the trash |
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