Jamaican Joint

Killa, Jones, Jones, Let's Go

[Cam'Ron]

Clowns don't come around, pound pounds i pump in town

Do like House of Pain, Kriss Kross, jump around

Jumpin' down, stuntin style, over those I polly

Then merk-o from squalie, ducati and Roberto Cavali mami

We feelin' them scoobies, you stealin' them gucci's booby

Get it right, its Emilio Pucci, hoochie (hoochie)

Write for sci-fi, i'll be pipin' five pies, the cat went like the nine lives

Ten halves, five pies, ten cars, five drives, ten bars, fi-fi

That's fifty-five thou, sha-na-na, bye bye

My fittings touched tailored, joined by Chuck Taylors

On the yacht with glocks, we sum thug sailors

You drinkin' old gold, rockin that old gold

We in rose gold, at the Rose Bowl

Send you a bowl of roses, we dun sold souls

Slow toes, im so cold, my dough folds

Killa!

[Chorus: Jim Jones]

So get your parachute, and row your boat nigga

Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high

We fly high, like bo! Bo! bo!

Now your row your boat nigga, and get your parachute

Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high

Bo! Bo! and fly high like Bo! Bo!

[Jim]

So on this road to success, I grew up in the boat o'y'all

Gettin closed by the jets

I learned my code from the set, I took my oath to the death

I risked the quarter to bing, I bet this forty a ring

Cams from the 40th wing, the westside of harlem

And rat roach infested, them black po's in vests's

They stack most impressive, ride through Tana's town

Thats where them grams be found, breeze through the broadway side

And where they always reside, and so much raw yay,

You know all them boys be outside

With them sirens and guns, all the noise be outside,

And yes we scour the slums

You know our toys be outside, co-co boy to ride,

Five-hundred thou on the block

the ones when we ride on the block, pumpin them bow's for the rocks

Look i came up from that, cookin' that came from crack

New boys shinin' man, New York's ryder man, look how I got'em Damn!

[Chorus: Jim Jones]

So get your parachute, and row your boat nigga

Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high

We fly high, like bo! Bo! bo!

Now your row your boat nigga, and get your parachute

Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high

Bo! Bo! and fly high like Bo! Bo!

[Juelz Santana]

I'm a, boy shotta, born poppa, y'all liars, y'all notta

I squeeze more fire, call coppers, squalie!

Hear that, pumper squeeze, yeah that, pumper be

Shoved in your mouth for talkin' all the fuck-a-ree

We move with the tune boy, we shoot'em and move boy

Yes you could say we are the Rudest of rude boys

Move that, do that, juke that girl, who dat who dat who dat girl

I wanna meet her, i wanna see her, i wanna skeet skeet

I wanna juice that girl

Grippin good, pimpin good, livin' good, shit is good, test me, lets see

I wish a nigga would (aye)

Y'all kids is a waste, when i spark clips is a waste

When alcoholics spit in your face, quick get a tatse

Nigga i ride high, drive high, fly high, sky high, high high i'm high

So high, so fly, float by, oh why, oh my, and i dont know why

Whoaa...

[Chorus: Jim Jones]

So get your parachute, and row your boat nigga

Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high

We fly high, like bo! Bo! bo!

Now your row your boat nigga, and get your parachute

Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high

Bo! Bo! and fly high like Bo! Bo!