cobo hall - boldy james lyrics
[intro]
in the city of detroit
once upon a time
there was a concreature
(blocks)
named boldy james
(yeah, huh)
where my east siders at?
concreatures
[verse 1]
i’m from mcnichols but my sister from van dyk* (yo)
my brothers with seven fears wish they can indict us
but what i’m selling brought my chips and my clique tight (yeah, yeah)
so sit tight and make sure the plates on the whip right (uh*huh)
the trip like eight hours there and back home (right)
put your seat belt on, and don’t wear thе hat (ah)
ridin’ with that dawg, you ain’t ’bout that life at all, y’all scared of cats
bunch of uncle toms, lil’ jеrry rats (no b*lls)
this a motion line picture, miramax
movie*line cinema, hbo, cinemax (reel)
showtime (uh*huh), cookin’ with the ‘chemist (al)
he push it to the limit while i take that sh*t to the max (to the max)
hit you with that hot stuff, that’s a rumble pack
type of n*gga shoot your block up then double back
just to make sure that he dead, up the tec
(pah, pah) put two in his head, the double check
[chorus]
the last n*gga who slept on me took a nap (turned him sleep)
and still ain’t woke up from that (murder spree)
it ain’t nothing for me to bust a cap (nah)
and take off everything above the neck
so put on your helmet and your double vest (uh)
and i hope you got your hammer and your ratchet set (uh*huh)
’cause once you gone, it ain’t no coming back (nah)
you n*ggas must don’t know you you f*cking with
[verse 2]
it’s mr. blue steel, red beam, rubber grip
thuggin’ it, bangin’ on wax for them bloods and crips (real tribe members)
in the traps and them addicts still recovering (uh*huh)
eatin’ free lunches up at saint james [?]
and every mother painin’ and suffering
who ever lost a son to the game that was hustling (god bless)
and every brother selling ‘caine with a brother
that he lost to the gun in a grave that was touching bricks (it’s money)
rip d live, my lil’ n*gga switched (my dawg)
he was sixteen when he passed like [?] brother [?] (cuzzo)
we from drug zone 76 (blocks)
where that money is the subject and the predicate (it’s concreatures)
yeah, so when you come, you better come correct
i’m a vet, i’ll never ever let you see me sweat
gotta learn how to live with regrets (why?)
’cause god forgives but i don’t forget
[chorus]
the last n*gga who slept on me took a nap (turned him sleep)
and still ain’t woke up from that (murder spree)
it ain’t nothing for me to bust a cap (nah)
and take off everything above the neck
so put on your helmet and your double vest (uh)
and i hope you got your hammer and your ratchet set (uh*huh)
’cause once you gone, it ain’t no coming back (nah)
you n*ggas must don’t know you you f*cking with
[outro]
oh!
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