End Of The Road

Jim Jones

feat.Bun-B, T.I.

(T.I. talking)

Jim Jones what it is homie

Killa Cam, Freekz Zeeky, Juelz whats happ'nin

Hey 'a aye... yea yea yea 'a aye

T.I.P. nigga y 'a y yeeah. Aye a aye

I'm up in Harlem to put it down wit my muthafuckin folks

Dipset bitch. A town to muthafuckin NY

nigga you already know what it is. Bankhead

C-rod, Grand Hustle, Diplomats

you dont like it kill yaself nigga. Lets go

(verse 1 T.I.)

Late night straight white fa ya base pipe

No mo quarter O's get ya weight right

Crack rock black glock kept it waist height (hey)

It hit ya mug you dont imagine what ya face like

American pie I'm tellin you guys

you want beef wit us well who the fucks preparin you guys

We sparin you guys get buried alive

What you rushin fa, act like you in a hurry to die

Some I let 'em fly 'fore I let that ride

I paralize ya like Supermans horseback ride nigga

Walk up on ya car and scorch dat ride

Flat tires, glass shattered wit a corpse inside

A town break down straight pounds of dro'

Still deal if you want 10 birds or mo

Pimp Squad, Dipset I know ya heard before

If we called you a bitch you deserved it hoe. Aye

(verse 2 Jim Jones)

I cop bricks of the crack (dat yayo)

And take it to my block, strip or my trap, my block strip is so trapped

Cops quick wit a strap, and you'll be scared shitless

How they where the big fifth and load up flares and biscuits

I'll take ya bitch from you, bring her back wit smeared lipstick (She Mine)

You can compare ballistics, but it's mere physics (Pimpin)

I'm 2-3's on drops, I used to play hoopties on blocks

plottin man like who he gon pop

In this tragic city, now I'm Bankheadin

4 tens headin down in ATL's Magic City

Yes the stash is pretty, and the mag hold 50

We take ova towns, then send the Rovers 'round

Lookin fa hoes to pound, ya local hoochie spot

Lookin fa hoochies hot, to get they coochie popped

I love the titty bars, I love my