But you erupt But you erupt But you erupt *Lil John*: "YEEEEEEAH! This ya boy Lil John. Gettin' it crunk with my homeboy, John Rich. Rick Rocks!"
rocks from my nose to my toes (woo!) I'm a sassy chick and everybody knows [Both] "Y'know, she look nice, I'll put her in clothes" Nigga named Dex, he from John
it out (will) We be the connection to Everything from calypso to Hip hop down to bee bop Now come rock slip slide to mine B-boy niggaz are gonna push butt Rock
the P.D We stay livin at the top of the charts The shit we be spittin, be state of the art We rockin ya block shit, wlyin like rock shit Strapped with
Intro: Mase Yo yo, this Mase, youknowhatI'msayin? You got niggaz that don't like me for whatever reason You got niggaz that don't wanna see me rich You
big rock with Tony Most wanted successful rap mogul Still got niggas wilin' out on the floor Still got the sky-blue drop-toppers on Still eat at Justin's in Sean John
-a-bus and the P.Diddy We stay livin' at the top of the charts The shit we be spittin', be state of the art We rockin' ya block shit, wlyin' like rock
[Young Jeezy] I'm just chillin' in that Phantom bumpin that Yo Gotti He's the boss of the town, call him young John Gotti Sittin down with the plug, bout
Drake] Are You Listening? Is Anybody Listening? Walk Into The Room And You Can Smell The Clive Christian Scent A Lot Of Niggas Threatened My Postion And Thrillen Bars You Think Im Writing With John
double dutch going down the street I rap to myself when there ain't no one to rap to And to me yo my shit be sounding sweet It's like doo rock doo rock
Ain't no love in Oakland, bitch Niggas always talkin bout 'I love you' But ain't no love, bitch Now it's a shame, I can't be saved by John the Pope I
Girl, girl, girl, that's your life Girl, smoking that glass pipe I come from the city of dope It couldn't be saved by John, the Pope 'Coz the base head
thug right? A slug might, open your mug like I'm checking your blood type The drug life We hop on a Rolls Shopping for clothes Rocking our foes Put you
microphone hippie Hit Poughkeepsie crispy chicken, verbs throw up a stone Richie Chop the O, sprinkle a lil' snow inside a Optimo Swing the John McEnroe, rap rock
10 niggas call it Tai-Chi Black blades, one hundred dollar seats Hold up, we at the opera Queen Elizabeth rub on my leg Had ketchup on her dress from a whopper Chunky ass necklace Must be her birthstone John
the street I rap to myself when there ain't no one to rap to And to me, yo, my shit be sounding sweet It's like doo rock, doo rock, oop I chew with
Die shit, it was aight, it was aight You know I'm sayin', that shit was aight, it was cool But my shit is more John Blaze than that, I got John Blaze
this motherfucker Y'all better be swift with that punch button Jack Biggie, Biggie I know how it feel to wake up fucked up Pockets broke as hell, another rock