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Juelz Santana

"When I Get There"

[Verse 1]
Purple weed and cloudy skies
Audi rides - used to have to troop but now we drive
Now we fly, ball, fly b*tches, now we vibe
New movie starring yours truly - Make the party live!
The mommy's call me: "Daddy" - I call them now and then
Tell her bring their girlfriends through line them up and then shower then
It's right back to usual, excuse, how I excuse you?
You thought I was looking at you I was lookin' through you
My eyes I see things clearer could it be my Bentley nearer
Hammer under chincilla chill the f*ck out 'fore we kill ya!
I'm no where near familar live is realer when you're speeding, weeding
Locking house you need, my reality for the evening!
Even when you're at the top the bottom calls
Every summer body drops - Still right out there by the mall
Pop my bands and buy it all, for my hands in front of coals
Lot of grands than I'm involved; problem man? I'll get it solved!
Spick and span no problem!

Weed it up, tear it down, that's how we roll
Devil wanna take me now. - But I ain't goin'
Too many already down; feel like I owe 'em!
F*ck your head now, then your pounds, show up to no-one!
When I get to the top, all way to the top (way to the top!)
I'ma sh*t on you, then climb back down
Just so I can spit on you, it's pitiful!
The sh*t they do, when they get through...

[Verse 2]
You used to count a n*gga out remember that to this day
Haven't seen me since I made it rather have it this way
Hung up my Jersey for a minute now I'm back in the play
Back in that zone where I'm snapping, rapping like back in the day
In New York city and now California
Styling on you skinny n*gga from around the corner
Then found the son of Marijuana in my 2K bomber
Benz or recline, man I arm her with my rear persona, and riot armor
Work magic, don't make me try it on ya
Halla Kasaam, Cabaam, Shazaam! Now take cover fast as ya can
Man! f*ck you sucka n*ggas and your R.I.P. tatt's
SouthSide! See sleep and breath that, we back!
I had it hard, don't call me lucky, call me lots of money
My flow ain't from this time, more like 2 thousand twenty
b*tch take the space up; back the f*ck up, I'ma need some room!
You know the order: bag 'em, tag 'em, let the G's run through 'em


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