I don't trust you cause you dab with the left hand I keep something up on my hip, that's my right hand All my dogs come first All lost in the purp Left hand doing numbers Right hand doing work Left hand, right hand Left hand, right hand Left hand, right hand Right hand, right hand Left be working in the right Coming right back Yeah I left to get it right Now I'm right back Steerthe wheel with my knee while I count up bands I show love and affection to all my fans I got Ferragamo holding up my pants I turn up on the stage while I hit my dance I get serious when it comes to business Don't waste my time boy you know that I ain't playing I got a clique of niggas with me We dumb twenty hoes laying where I'm staying I never dap you with the left hand I draw down with the Glock in the right hand I got podnas with me when I walked in Live shooters waiting and I'm screaming fan I swear that I'm hot boy I need a fan I got prices and sell and they all paying Make it work while I'm using the left hand Bring it back while I'm using the right hand I don't trust you cause you dab with the left hand I keep something up on my hip, that's my right hand All my dogs come first All lost in the purp Left hand doing numbers Right hand doing work Left hand, right hand Left hand, right hand Left hand, right hand Right hand, right hand Left be working in the right Coming right back Yeah I left to get it right Now I'm right back Know my feel I'm speedin' the twi Drilling a hole while I'm using a nail Dump in the cut while G wrapping a bail Ben at the street while he watchin' for 12 Straighten up my hand right after they deal Dope ain't come back when I whipped so I fail Stroke got pack coming all through the mail DP had that purp floating all through the jail Mac and a Compaq I work off of a Dell Left and right hand I use both 'em well Right and the left I can use for the sprayer Don't get in my way, I ain't taking a L Ain't got no room, I'm a grinder forreal Way I'ma be, only timing could tell You know I go hard, I be bringing them here I'm washing the residue off of my nails I don't trust you cause you dab with the left hand I keep something up on my hip, that's my right hand All my dogs come first All lost in the purp Left hand doing numbers Right hand doing work Left hand, right hand Left hand, right hand Left hand, right hand Right hand, right hand Left be working in the right Coming right back Yeah I left to get it right Now I'm right back

You can ride all day long Another Myke Diesel production (Mike Jones) But you'll never catch Mr. Jones He's got a gang that's far too strong (Ice Age, Ice Age, Ice Age) Your friends know it, that's why you're all alone Chasing a man you can't see (Mike Jones) So just walk away and let him be He's got a shotgun so go back home (Who? Mike Jones Who? Mike Jones) 'Cause you'll never get Mr. Jones (Mike Jones, Mike Jones) I'm back, my music tracks about to sell another mil' My pants stay saggin' from them hundred dollar bills These haters hate but they don't really wanna see the steel These haters hate but they don't really wanna see the steel Had a million in my bank before Asylum bought the deal Had a million in my bank before Asylum bought the deal Before I came I just say the streets wouldn't feel The - that I'm spittin', the - that's real But now I'm like Melo, I'm the king of the hill American dream, I'm livin' that for real Eleven cars later - tell me how you feel Took the diamonds off my teeth And put 'em on my Phantom grill (smile, ha ha) You can ride all day long (Mike Jones) But you'll never catch Mr. Jones He's got a gang that's far too strong (Ice Age, Ice Age, Ice Age) Your friends know it, that's why you're all alone Chasing a man you can't see (Mike Jones) So just walk away and let him be He's got a shotgun so go back home (Who? Mike Jones Who? Mike Jones) 'Cause you'll never get Mr. Jones (Mike Jones, Mike Jones) I used to get dissed by the chicks in the club Now they want to rub my belly, wanna show your boy some love They see me iced up, they be like, "What's up?" Try to jack me if you wanna, I'ma leave you - up Used to roll hatchback, now I'm Cadillac and Benz Used to roll hatchback, now I'm Cadillac and Benz I used to have homies, now I'm like, "- friends" 'Cause even back then all they did was pretend Now I got my own label Ice Age and I'm boss I'm the mayor of this town with the key to that vault All my cars black on black except the one with thick gloss Got another white on white I call that - rick Rick Ross (Ross) You can ride all day long (Mike Jones) But you'll never catch Mr. Jones He's got a gang that's far too strong (Ice Age, Ice Age, Ice Age) Your friends know it, that's why you're all alone (hahahahahaha) Chasing a man you can't see (you can't see me, baby) So just walk away, and let him be He's got a shotgun so go back home (Who? Mike Jones Who? Mike Jones) 'Cause you'll never get Mr. Jones (Mike Jones, Mike Jones) Hey Now make it rain Hey Now make it rain Hey Now make it rain American Dream, album and movie on the way, baby

(Rhythm is both the song's manacle and it's demonic charge. It is the original breath, it is the whisper of unremitting demand. "What do you still want of me?", says the singer. "What do you think you can still draw from my lips?" Exact presence that no fantasy can represent. Purveyor of the oldest secret, alive with the blood that boils again, and is pulsing where the rhythm is torn apart. How your singer's blood is incensed at the depth of sound. Lacerations echo in the mouth's open erotic sky where dance together the lost frenzies of rhythm and an imploring immobility. Ladies and gentlemen, Miss Grace Jones. Jones the Rhythm.) Slave! Slave to the rhythm Dance to the rhythm Axe to wood in ancient times Man machine, production line The fire burns, with heartbeats strong Sing out loud, the chain gang song Never stop the action Keep it up, keep it up Never stop the action Keep it up, keep it up Slave to the rhythm Dance to the rhythm, The rhythm... master... master... Never stop the action, keep it up Never stop the action Keep it up, keep it up. Slave to the rhythm, work to the rhythm, Dance to the rhythm, live to the rhythm. Slave to the rhythm, Dance to the rhythm, live to the rhythm, Slave to the rhythm, work... to the rhythm, To the rhythm, work to the rhythm, to the rhythm. Slave, slave, To the rhythm, to the rhythm, to the rhythm. (Grace) Oh that's weird... (Grace Jones, welcome) Thank you Paul. And if you're wondering what's wrong with my voice, I just choked on my saliva. So... (Now obviously you're in the Bond movie.)