Dj Clue - Next Level Freestyle lyrics

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Dj Clue - Next Level Freestyle lyrics

[Intro: The L.O.X.] L-O-X Chest to chest, back to back Glock for Glock, mack for mack Dope and crack is what we sling Do things you talk about Player f** around and catch a slug in your mouth [Verse 1: Jadakiss] It's a shame he could rhyme n***a love crime Every late night he outside with the nine You ain't got chips, f** the world You got chips, you could f** the next mans girl Sounds harsh but they been ripped apart my world Where thugs could rule, selling crack was cool Knocked off hundred packs brought stacks to school No diploma, weed aroma n***a half coma Know the tricks in the cla** see my a** on the corner Ya'll ain't ate sh** till ya'll taste the life Had my mom screaming "J Don't waste your life" But me and my ace is tight moving base at night Lace your nikes, you see narcs jet I'll meet you in the morning in the park doing sets And when its dark again, we'll let the nine spark again Ya'll know the dogs, n***as stay moving out the fog And when its war we ain't trying to call on the lord I hit 'em like the board when I split 'em with my sword You fear what you hear so n***a press record From here on out we ain't trying to be ignored LOX drop sh** that make n***as mob sh** You want to pop sh**? n***a, pop clips [Verse 2: Styles P] Too many n***as shakey, life is shakey I act like this cause they make me, probably hate me n***a,im in the dictionary look me up Express art from my heart, baby cook me up Im the crack in your tape deck Im the burner on your waist that'll get the place wet Im the money in safe that'll get the case dead Im the j**els on your neck that'll make the dime b**hes give head Im the blunt three in the morning you take to the head Im the car that you snatched when you first got bread Im the spot that you got when you running from the feds Im the heart in the page of that book that you read Im the ground that absorbed all that sh** that y'all bled Styles, Physically and Mentally Going for the gold cause I paid my penalties You Ain't a friend of me, ya'll ain't seen the enemy Thinking of bending me but im on the Kennedy When I fly back in, hope you packin' Comin' to tear ya'll n***as in fractions .44 see the future we battle ya'll all lost [Verse 3: Sheek Looch] You must really want to die f**ing with sheek Looch I This years the booth we droppin' n***as off banzai Goodbye, see you in the afterlife when You come back as a p**y and I f** you again Respect come not from teks It comes from n***as who write checks To get ya'll little n***as out of big debts With paper, im sure that you'll never see me sweat Only in my linen when im spinnin' im my Whip oh Pa** n***as watch their face frown like a pitbull The sh** that we crush n***as sniff into they groove Scared to move, leanin' like they lookin' for change But ain't no dollars down there its that sack f**in' with you Now bounce before we bust you where the good lord split you Hustler work, you kidding me? You know the difference in the cash income For years too many n***as must of been dumb Where we from, n***as been hustling dumbs Making sneaker money running for crumbs, Pulling in sums If time dont stop then why should we yo light your spiff You need work? come on I got your a**ignment to give This year I need 97 gats, 97 cars I swear to god this year, I'mma f** 97 stars And if I come short It ain't no slack off my shoulder I waiting for this last b**h to get a little older What, LOX n***a, to the motherf**ing chest