Vinny Crook$ - Juice (Get Down) lyrics

[Produced By Drugs The Model Citizen] [Intro: Sample] Bishop & Q from the movie Juice (Verse 1) Sweet Holy Jesus, my filthy hands need holy water These thesis i'm preaching, street sweepers Leave your teeth in the streets them tires screeching Smoke screening, barbecue beefing, body bags heaping You wouldn't last a weekend outdoors policemen ain't reaping What they sow, sew my block with E and weed And greeds the seed, when greens the root of all evil I bleed the beats, burn up these roots of diesel I'm just tryna eat, scrape the plate, view the people Blind in trying to cure the lethal, piss on cathedrals Piss poor sequels, we pissed off it's never peaceful They got these streets tatted on they face Ports by the seas keep a eye out for Jakes Travis Bickle from the PJ's with nickel plated thirty eights Thirty eight goons wet up yo block like a typhoon The pack's back to howl at the moon, from sand dunes Biting on your back, for a plate of food, toe tagging They start ranting we start dancing with AK's Hundred drums clapping like street parades Satan serenades, next to angel dust in J's, throwing fades Get cut for your J's, if you ball and shine with chains Wonder fore the sun come up, will I live to see twenty one? Twenty one gun salute, for my day one troops Thousand truths I prefer my words with platinum teeth Keep a heart on my sleeve they see it gives em the blues Hip-Hop's been my blues, like i'm so ahead of my time Look inside of my eyes, and explore the horrors in my mind (Hook) I got the juice, I got the juice, I got the juice now I juke with nouns and verbs next to shootouts on curbs Smoke a pound of purp, and write my wrongs I got the juice, I got the juice, I got the juice now I juke with nouns and verbs next to shootouts on curbs Smoke a pound of purp, and write my wrongs I got the juice, I got the juice, I got the juice now I juke with nouns and verbs next to shootouts on curbs Smoke a pound of purp, and write my wrongs (Verse 2) I'm inclined to blow any time so your likely to find a mine Find chalk lines, either you on deck or mimic mimes Traumatized state of mind, my alumni's adapt to crime Backpack raps full of rhymes like tec-9's And i'ma set it off till sun/son gone shine Stain the A&R and tell em give me dimes Give me whips, give me deals everything they conceal Have em strip, or they skull getting peeled Sk** still appeal, the monetarys glued to my brain and Every verse is like the monster Ronald Reagan created My CD would've been sold in the crack epidemic Tell Momma to bury me with a three fifty seven In case God guards the gate and I don't get into heaven Get a reverend half stepping on Caine, i'm out for presidents To represent me, this master kush up in my brain That presidential that I really need, trying to see another day I pray i'm forgiven for the dirt that I did and didn't do Cynical and spiritual in a place thats so critical, touch souls of criminals And straight A individuals, I parlay with the visuals f** the revenue, I pledge the intellectual, not the lyrical Put gats to politicians temples, pyrex with coke residue Swimming pools full of sharks, you a floating carca** Color conscious on streets, thats true colors no conscience We pompous out here trying to break your compa** (Hook) I got the juice, I got the juice, I got the juice now I juke with nouns and verbs next to shootouts on curbs Smoke a pound of purp, and write my wrongs I got the juice, I got the juice, I got the juice now I juke with nouns and verbs next to shootouts on curbs Smoke a pound of purp, and write my wrongs I got the juice, I got the juice, I got the juice now I juke with nouns and verbs next to shootouts on curbs Smoke a pound of purp, and write my wrongs