Juelz Santana
Losing Weight, Pt. 2
[Intro]
Know what's poppin', I'm not fuckin' with you, man
You ain't have my money now, my connect not fuckin' with me
Get the fuck out of here
Nah, nah, yo, B, word to— word to Blood, yo, we—
We got it poppin' right now
Me, Left, and Gator, man, we just got Papi for a brick and a half, B
I got everything I owe you and a another half for you right now in the car, that's word, B
Right now?
Right now, B
Good, good, good, good, good
You got your fuckin' head on your fuckin' shoulders now, B
Yeah, yeah, that's what I'm talkin' about, n***a
Let me think, let me think
Now I could go back to—
I'm goin' back to North Carolina, down in Greensboro and take care—
Where I can take care with Thi and Bum and them n***as
Jimmy and Zek' is right now in Massachusetts, I'ma call them
Okay
I'ma give you the directions, take the Benz
If you get lost, push the OnStar, you know what I'm sayin'?
The directions get you straight there, you know what I mean?
Okay, let's do it
Be careful, put that shit away, man, you know what I mean?
Be careful, I love you, alright? You good
Call me on the cell if you got a problem
[Chorus: Cam'ron]
Ayo, fuck losing weight
I'm back on these highways moving cakes
Life's based upon what I'ma do today
Cop a car, new estate
Nah, fuck it, get the beef and brocs, blue and gray
Baby due today ('Day)
I got to move an eighth (Eighth)
Fuck the scrutiny
Y'all n***as screwing me (Fuck 'em)
Killa never let the drama slide
Y'all gon' hear a n***a mama die (Yo, yo)
Yell out homicide

[Verse 1: Cam'ron]
Eighteen months? Please, that ain't facing time
I'm stressed anyway, need it for vacation time
I'ma do the right thing, though, take shock anyway
Six months, right back on the damn block anyway (Anyway)
But look, money from across the street
Think it's sweet, think he get money across the street
Me and my peeps often meet
And five-oh, they work for us (Us), walk the beat
Walk with heat 'cause talk is cheap (Cheap)
So dun stay silent (Shh)
Revolvers, automatics, guns stay silent (Silent)
When it comes to beef, it becomes a talent (Talent)
Remember me, ODB, I'm the one from "Violence," Killa
Digital ten, shit get critical, friend
I got eight hundred invisible men
That mean it could be the bank man
Person at the gas station filling up your tank, fam
Lady at the frank stand (Stand)
Will rat poison your relish right in the center, babe
Bitch is a renegade, she'll piss in your lemonade (Lemonade)
And y'all dead now, that, you could bet now
Do like a toaster, put your bread down
Upset now, hate when I gotta rep clowns, blow TEC rounds
In a collision, I see their ambition (I see it)
But they don't know them days I was stooped up and pitching
Or all them hot summers I was cooped up in the kitchen
When it came to grams, it was ninety I fried
Three-fifty on the stove and it's ninety outside ('Side)
I'ma get this girl that be stuffing my bricks
Felt life cheated her, she be cutting her wrists
Her mom died, her-on overdose stuffed in her wrist
Father fucking her, older man fucking her sis
But love my music, say I do nothing but hits
She'll do anything for me, nothing but hits
'Cause when she needed help, I got her nothing but fixed
Needed coke, needed dope, yeah, I gave her a fix
So she went across the street, gave him a kiss
Stuck her tongue out, flirted, played with his dick
"You know Cam?" He said, "Yeah, don't play with his chips" (Chips)
Stood back, blazed him with six, amazing and shit
Huh? Killa, Killa, Dipset, n***a
[Chorus: Juelz Santana]
Yo, fuck losing weight (Uh-huh)
We back on these highways, we moving cakes
Life's based upon what I'ma do today
Take my moms, move away
Yeah, I think I'ma cop me that new estate (Uh-huh)
Baby due today (Come on)
I got to move an eighth (That's right)
Fuck the scrutiny
Y'all n***as screwing me (Yeah)
Juelz never let the cops get me
On the block 'til the shots hit me (Yo)
Until the shots get me

[Verse 2: Juelz Santana]
N***as wanna know why I'm so nice
When it comes to spitting that fire
It's real, dog, I live in the fire
Used to being in the streets, homie
In the midst of the fire
Break work, put it in pots, sit it in fire
Quick to grab the fifth and just fire
Try to peel off, I'm hitting your tires
Hittin' your doors while your car's spinning, hitting the wall
That's just the beginning of war
I let you know you dealing with dogs
My villains'll finish you off
Head in your chest, brain
Dead on the Van Wyck expressway
While I got my hand in the TEC, wave
N***as like, "Fuck, is he stupid?" (Yes, I am)
Cops wanna cuff me, do it
You wanna be a hero, snuff me, do it
Rush me, do it
Shit, like I ain't been through the scars and bruises
Like I ain't been through the bars, seen the sergeant troopers
Look at my body, I lost so much weight
Cops raiding my spot, I done lost so much weight
I'm telling Papi, "Front me a brick, let me owe that cake"
He telling me he ain't got but so much weight
He been waiting for his connection to come
I'm like, "At least give me a half, I'll compress it and stretch it to one"
I'm on the block as usual
With that block that you chop and the rocks as usual
Watching for the cops that's moving through
Me and my soldiers know the rules to use case we get bopped by the dudes in blue
Keep your mouth locked, screwed, and glued
Or shots from the Ruger duke'll circle round your body like hula-hoops (Woo)
Mami told me, "Son, hold your own"
And one day you gon' grow to be a rolling stone
I believed her
Juelz never let the cops get me
On the block 'til the shots hit me
[Chorus: Cam'ron & Juelz Santana]
Ayo, fuck losing weight
I'm back on these highways moving cakes
Life's based upon what I'ma do today
Cop a car, new estate
Nah, fuck it, get the beef and brocs, blue and gray
Baby due today ('Day)
I got to move an eighth (Eighth)
Fuck the scrutiny
Y'all n***as screwing me (Fuck 'em)
Killa never let the drama slide
Y'all gon' hear a n***a mama die
Yell out homicide
Yo, fuck losing weight (Uh-huh)
We back on these highways, we moving cakes
Life's based upon what I'ma do today
Take my moms, move away
Yeah, I think I'ma cop me that new estate
Baby due today
I got to move an eighth (That's right)
Fuck the scrutiny
Y'all n***as screwing me
Juelz never let the cops get me
On the block 'til the shots hit me
Until the shots get me