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    YUNG JOC

    New Joc City 2006 ©

    Patron

    (Ohhh!) Uh-huh (Shit! What up Chino Dolla?)
    New Joc City (Here it is)
    But right now, you 'bout to witness a nigga gone off that Patron
    (Heh-heh, aight) I'm talking 'bout seven shots up
    Y'knahmtalkinbout? (Seven shots? Woooo-ooh, shit!)
    (Boyz N Da Hood) The next round on you nigga, ha ha
    Now what I want y'all to do (What'chu want me to do nigga?)
    Take that shit to the motherfucking head, to the flo' nigga
    Let's go


    I just bought a zone, J's on my feet
    I'm on that Patron, so get like me
    I just bought a zone, J's on my feet
    I'm on that Patron, so get like me
    Er-ery'body love me, I'm so fly
    Niggaz throw the deuces ery'time I ride by
    Er-ery'body love me, I'm so fly
    Niggaz throw the deuces ery'time I ride by


    C'mon me tell me what it do, I do it for the A
    When the top drop, rock the platinum Cartier
    Got that Microsoft so they call me Bill Gates
    Ice links 'round my neck looking like I build gates
    I'm Mr. Amoco, yeah I got the pumps
    Pockets on swoll looking like they got the mumps
    I'm 'bout my change, gotta get the riches
    From the look of thangs y'all getting JC Penney's
    Pass that Patron, the lime's right thurr
    Rock with it, lean with it, in my Nike Urr
    Wink my eye at your bitch, now she wishing she could touch
    See the J's on my feet, and she love the diamond cuts
    Fresh to death, everyday like I jumped up out a caskets
    Ask Chino Dolla 'bout that dope boy magic
    Connected like apartments, keep one in the cartridge
    Chevy seats ostrich, name in the carpet




    I mix Patron and Everglow, I call it anti-freeze
    Take one sip her drawers fall to her knees
    Mister V.I.P., get it like me
    Ice piece on my wife beat I call it Ice-T
    Kush by the seven, I call it Mike Vick
    She call me officer I hit her with my nightstick
    My swag so mean need anger management
    You call it what you want I'm on some ol' eleven shit
    These niggaz wanna hate, God dammit we can handle it
    Mad cause I got juice, call me Tropicana bitch
    Joc feel good. Joc buy the bar
    Catch me in the hood pimp, rolling on a 'gar
    I plead to the judge I'm guilty of the charge
    I'ma ballaholic, can't help it I'ma star
    You see the yellow ice, you holla oh my God
    Trying to guess the price, ehh about thirty large




    Ery'body wanna know, how I do my thang
    Yeah I get money and I let my nuts hang
    Pull up to curb, cut it to the left
    My rims sitting tall 'til I dim the knee steps
    I just see what I want, then I go get it
    The apple jelly Chevy with the peanut butter in it
    So don't get mad, pimp keep it cool
    I hang with them goons and the boys keep them tools
    I hustle all day, that's just how I live
    Stack them big faces, give the strippers dollar bills
    Check the dictionary for a P.I.M.P.
    And when you look it up, potnah tell me who ya see
    Young J-O-C, yeah that's me
    Twenty-eight G's, on my feet twenty-three's




    I'm on that Patron, so gone that Patron
    So gone that Patron, so get like me
    So gone that Patron, so gone that Patron
    So gone that Patron, so get like me
    Get like me, get like me
    So gone that Patron, so get like me

    2006 ©

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YUNG JOC Patron lyrics 142539