Time Is Up (feat. DJ Haze & Juelz Santana) - Jim Jones

Feeling good, looking good Living good, everything is good I wish a nigga would I wish a nigga would Smoking good, drinking good Fucking good, everything is good I wish a nigga would I wish a nigga would It's like I smell that money from a mile away Neck full of Lucky Charms, my pockets on St. Patrick's Day This money I be fucking up, these bitches I be fucking 'em Sometimes two at once, yup, double-dutchin them I'm that nigga, you know it's true You wanna be me, I know you do Your girl want me, I know she do If I was her, I would want me too I'm back, tell 'em watch the throne Get a flick of my fancy clothes Bad bitch with no panties on Tight jeans, see the camel toe Went and got a zip from my nigga Wiz I said what's this? He said Amber Rose Got a stripper pole in my bed room that your bitch be dancing on I'm like Rihanna when it come to cake You flyer than me? No fucking way Riding 'round with that bitch nina Smoking keisha, that's a double date Somebody call up Spalding Somebody call up Nike I done balled out of my Jordan's Your chick keep callin' We smoke a blunt, then she strip Then I tongue kiss her pussy lips Then I come up, give her a kiss She can taste how good her pussy is Stuffing big cones, we ain't smoking pinners I'm balling like a Saint, fucking with them sinners My pockets chunky, your shit got that thinner How I look hungry I got chefs for breakfast, lunch, and dinner I'm rolling up zips, fucking with the dips These haters talking shit, just a lot of lip See the niggas that I'm with, that's a lot of Porsche's See my old school car, that's a lot of horses No rollie on, my eyes like I'm from Tokyo Got a pound of weed that we all could roll But I only smoke with my homies though And everyday I'm in the hood And everyday I'm smoking good Feeling good, looking good Living good, everything is good I wish a nigga would I wish a nigga would Smoking good, drinking good Fucking good, everything is good I wish a nigga would I wish a nigga would

King of Kings It is what it is I'm the king Yo soy Don Conteo Uno, dos, tres, cuatro Marchando mi combo, forma un alboroto Uno, dos, tres, cuatro Salte, que va pasando mi combo Uno, dos, tres, cuatro Marchando las gatas forman alboroto Uno, dos, tres, cuatro Que va pasando mi combo Mami tú la matas sola Apodera esa tela Si el record te controla El negro te consuela Rompe esa consola Con Nelly la vuela Como se musea La Miss Piel Canela, eah eah Que es pura candela Incienso y vela A lo vieja escuela Ella tiene ese embrujo Que a mi combo desvela No le des avena O te vas por pela, eah eah Que es pura candela Incienso y vela A las 11, hay escuela Ella tiene ese embrujo Que a mi combo desvela No le des avena O te vas por pela Marchen Uno, dos, tres, cuatro Marchando mi combo forma un alboroto Uno, dos, tres, cuatro Salte, que va pasando mi combo Uno, dos, tres, cuatro Marchando las gatas forman alboroto Uno, dos, tres, cuatro Que va pasando mi combo One for the money Two for the cars Three for the gangstas Four for the broads Hey, mira mami, ven acá, aquí Hey! Bring it over here Hey! Come and have a seat Sit with a gangsta Kick it with a gangsta Me and Don Omar This shit is gangsta Smoked a jova Took the pistola Say something stupid Te exploto la boca We on we rich, stop it you can't beat Lady see us, se baja los panties Put 'em down, put 'em low, put 'em slow Throw 'em at me baby I'll catch 'em, I'm a pro Puerto Rico, oh Black people, oh Everybody that's on perico, oh Put your hands up, stand up This is more than just a jam This is history (Uno, dos, tres, cua-) Ella sin ropa Te flota en las tropas Burbujas que se estrujan Con un Champagne en copa Si se pone las botas La nota te explota Házlo suavecito Que solita se azota Se toca to'a Te aprieta como boa Su beso de malta Y te sabe hasta a cocoa Ella anda con un combo Que dice que va a to'as Eso lo vemos ahora, ahora Uno, dos, tres, cuatro Marchando mi combo forma un alboroto Uno, dos, tres, cuatro Salte, que va pasando mi combo Uno, dos, tres, cuatro Marchando las gatas forman alboroto Uno, dos, tres, cuatro Que va pasando mi combo Socio no me ronques Porque Vas a sentir el torque No te toque', ni nos provoque' O te dejo caer el bote Socio no me ronques Porque Vas a sentir el torque No te toque', ni nos provoque' O te dejo caer el bote Marchen Uno, dos, tres, cuatro Marchando mi combo forma un alboroto Uno, dos, tres, cuatro Salte, que va pasando mi combo Uno, dos, tres, cuatro Marchando las gatas forman alboroto Uno, dos, tres, cuatro Que va pasando mi combo (Marchen) Esto es King of Kings, papi (Juelz Santana, you know) Don Otra cosa (King of Kings) (Don Omar) Este es Nelly El Arma Secreta Un clásico, a lo' bolsillo' Lo presenté yo, tú sabe' (El Arma Secreta) Nelly Tú sabes, tú sabes (They know) Naldo (Nelly The Secret Weapon) (King of Kings) Don

Dip Set in the building (killa) Juelz, you on yo own man, lets go Dip set, dip set, dip set, dip set Dip set, dip set, dip set, dip set Dip set, dip set, dip set, dip set Dip set, dip set, JUELZ (DIP SET) Juelz dip dip Santana set set When he grip grip Nigga text text Who you wit wit Throw up yo set Dip set dip set dip set what (ooowww) Juelz dip dip Santana set set When he grip grip Nigga text text Who you wit wit Throw up yo set Dip set dip set dip set what (ooowww) Yo i be wit a gang-a-gangs who hang and bang Animals, orangitangs, hammers move bangers bang Damnit, do the game unchanged I got a ho selection, a whole collection A whole selection, of my ho collection And im big pimpin stick dippin quick shippin Bitch listen this isnt no damn game in here Yeah whole bird gangs in here like Kurt Cobain was here YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH And im dangerous yeah brainless yeah Stainless here, aim at ya, bang at ya Ya'll some dead muthafuckas And my diddy bop, barge through the city block Hard wit the pretty glock, dodge or you gettin shot Then its to the bar, hard liquor get a shot Get a braud get a hot, get a ho give a cop Go, its yo birthday, go go Drink it girl im cumin i know you thirsty Harlems my birthplace, tombstone dirtplace Doomsday goonsday, tuesday to thursday Juelz dip dip Santana set set When he grip grip Nigga text text Who you wit wit Throw up yo set Dip set dip set dip set what (ooowww) Juelz dip dip Santana set set When he grip grip Nigga text text Who you wit wit Throw up yo set Dip set dip set dip set what (ooowww) Jump, start, move, breathe We, in, too, deep, OKAAAYY Im lo-lo from the block again Po-po and the cops again No homo but they cockin em 4-4's and them glocks in em They the paparazzi's They the livest posse's Kamikaze, nazi nazi, copy poppy Im a baller baller Youre not at all a baller Thats why a scossed your daughter Left her home call her call her Im in a low BM Get wit ya old BM Weed smokin OZM Trojans and petroleums Yeah and i just in case a whole is thin Take it off bend it over throw it in Work it work it Oops, squirt it squirt it Oops, oopsy days, boo im craze Choo choo trains, cookoo man Zooloo gangs, im old school like Bam Botta no mans hotter The damn dotta i jam proper, your mans notta Juelz dip dip Santana set set When he grip grip Nigga text text Who you wit wit Throw up yo set Dip set dip set dip set what (ooowww) Juelz dip dip Santana set set When he grip grip Nigga text text Who you wit wit Throw up yo set Dip set dip set dip set what (ooowww) Santana, Killa Jim Jones, Freaky Killa You already know what it is My man Juelz Santana That boy got that crack man Diplomat records man

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.)