on death My demise ain't here, don't hold your breath Cook heat over beef so I'm somethin' like a chef Purple kushes, my *** wax off they *** bushes
then we feel like we owe you something Like lotto, you have to be in it to win it But if the beat is fresh then Diamond J will spin it If J spin it,
You're so intent with my lyrical content, that you probably don't realise exactly what I meant. It may not be up there with J.R.R Tolkien. But at least
rhythm I up jump the boogie Shame I rely on record labels to push me Since the bush, I been y'all way to escape Through eight tracks wax CDs and tapes
do jeff (I wanna rock right now) cant hear you(I wanna rock right now) one more time j(I wanna rock right now) say it one more time j(I wanna rock right
.J., keep playin' that hit Watch her shake that shit, I can't take that shit Find you in the back burnin', fat sermon on the wax turnin' Earnin' cash,
just for the sake of just sayin I'm back I could relax but I'd rather stack ammo on tracks Couple Xanax, light a couple wax candles then black out and
niggas till my life span passes [S] With the (shhh) sound of the pyro camp You's a fool if you try to get the Psycho amped [J] We could stomp, give
big studios who still give niggas favors On the mixin' and mastering, puzzlin' and Plastering the tracks together on tapes, CDs, wax or whatever This
I bust him Sonny, talkin' to C. I love you but can't trust you It's me and Mister, 's like A.C. and O.J.: everybody know we all about that all day Tell
takin' out all rookies So forget Oreos, eat Cool J cookies I'm bad, Cool J, Cool J Cool J, Cool J, Cool J, Cool J Never ever, no never Never wearin
pays, I'm gettin' straight up A's Cool J is runnin' things, I want it understood Executioner I should wear a black hood And carry an ax 'cause I'm ruff on wax
sleep and dust me off them old ass Rock The Bells You mother[BACKWARDS], you fruitcakes, you fakin jacks You [BACKWARDS] don't want it, I'm burnin up the wax
was a Rappin' Duke, da-ha, silk tie and leather was cute Body and soul was Dee from Pump It Up's group Oaktown 357, J.J. Fad too Had pop hits and gold
Ciiiitttttttyyyyyyyyy Nigga What! Independent 2k until infnity J one, JT Money y'all Disappeared in '96 Surfaced in Atlanta in 1999 Who Dat? Pimpin on Wax
don't wanna stop Somethin' about pimpin' 'Cause this player's gotta keep a fat, knock the show Motherfuckin' Money dog, gotta work these hoes dawg Pimpin' On Wax, Pimpin' On Wax
like a fist of rage Self made and paid and sawed off twelve gauges Up that ass for the nine eight (Nine eight) Never fake, shake, straight from the Great Lakes Seven years on wax