J.R. Writer - Goonies feat. Jim Jones & Hell Rell lyrics

rate me

Hook

J.R. Writer:

It's the Dips, we can't fall off we are sick

And keep ridin' 'til the wheels fall off of this bitch

Salute, wooo wooo, wooo wooo

Wooo wooo, wooo wooo

If you get money, like ain't shit funny

And quick to tell a bitch she ain't getting shit from me

Holla back, wooo wooo, wooo wooo

Wooo wooo, wooo wooo

Verse 1

J.R. Writer:

Listen, this is natural, we're not compatible

A hustler, not a rapper dude, don't make me have to clap a few

Wrap ya dude, blat ya through

Nigga fuck a stash box, I got a box in the stash for you

You ain't a Goonie, you's a Looney Tooney

I will use this Uzi to remove ya kufi

Troops salute me, dude ya fruity

Who's a groupie, and lucky that my shoes are Gucci (Why)

Cuz I stomp creeps, I'm beyond beats

Big war guns, check out my arm reach

I'll get ya moms leaked (where) stretch out in Palm Beach

Iffy 'til I put you underground, then its concrete

You stepping up there, them Hecklers'll flare

Peter Rowe, leave ya soul in a breath full of air

Nobody better this year (Why)

I'm in the zone, and it's like you goin' bald, cuz you'll never get here

Hook

Verse 2

Jim Jones:

One-Eyed Willy, head of the Goonie-Goo-Goos (Capo)

I'll put paper on ya head just like Asusu

Blowin' haze in the air out the moon roof

While I'm racin', switchin' gears in the new Coupe

So it's nuthin', do 10 to 90

Peter Rowe, you hop in the Benz do 90

I'll cop a new bed buck 90 (Ballin')

I'm on the block gettin' bents where you find me

I'm probably spittin' out bunch a seeds

40.'s off Autobahn, tell Black dump the weed (We gotta get high)

It's 600 for my Dungarees

I'm on the corner getting blunted wit' a bunch of Gs (Eastside)

So ya life's but a bleep away

Well I party at night where the Heat play (Down in Miami)

Until the cops sub do me (Fuck it)

I'm claimin' Dipset Byrdgang, we the Goonies (We the Goonies)

Hook

Verse 3

Hell Rell:

I'm the shit, Mr. Doo-Doo, I'll holla "Wooo wooo"

100 niggaz hop out hoodied up like boom boom

I got Goons on the payroll shorty

And I don't talk shit, they move the yayo for me (They move that shit)

Money machines count the pesos for me

Shit on my neck, that's Range Rove' money

My jewelry startin' to add up to cars my brother

Magnum on one wrist, Charger on the other

When I die, my house gonna be a tourist attraction

You serious, that's the same chair Hell Rell sat in (You serious)

You lyin', that's the same toilet Hell Rell crapped in (Naw you lyin')

Mink carpets and he got it from rappin', Ruger double action

You wanna learn about some 'caine nigga talk to me

You wanna know who own the city, cruise New York wit me (Dipset)

I bring the grittiest out (yeah)

And if Rell in the building all the Goonies in the city come out (yeah)

Hook