The Juks
The Juks

Ghostface Killah ft. Trife, Superb - The Juks Lyrics

105
The Juks Music Video

The Juks Lyrics

Yo roll, yo' roll
My roll, my roll
Aiyo Maurice go to the store for me son
My roll, tell that bitch Keisha come here (yo Keisha!)
Aiyo, tell that bitch Keisha come here man (two dutches, holler, holler)
Niggas rollin' for money over there dunn
(It's on a breathin', it's slice on, I want that honey's bracelet)
They gettin' it over there

Aiyo what's in it? Three M's in the bank
Shoot it, oh you gotta stop?
Six bitches, to the top
A four and better, beat the five
I looked him in his eyes, grabbed the dice
Son I'll five 'em better twice for ya fuckin' life
Money feed good, all downs is a bet
Meanin', any money on the ground is a bet
Open up the pool, get a dicin' room
Aight bitches, use Pampers, girls need a nice room
That's a six, I told you that bitch ain't claustrophic
If you ass-bettin', you just bet yo' ass
Nah, I got the money, I even got one wit' me
And 'Von bring it too, he on his way to come get me
He just hit me, he'll be here in fifteen
With them two things, grey Benz and maroon seats
I got a quarter-mil in each of my first sleeves
The rest is in my longjonhs, boots and jeans
Come in the buildin', before I pay I wanna see a three
Come in the buildin', nigga

Pop your collar (do whatever you do best)
Just pop your collar (up the ladder to the hill of success)

Aiyo, aiyo, aiyo, he had three down and bet three M's
So you know what happened to him
He got three rounds, we all ex-dealers
Ex-killers, we gon' ride to the death for the skrilla
I hold my own and rep my niggas
Always oil my guns and inspect my triggas
Sometimes I call my lawyer just to check my figures
He told me not to worry, all cheques is clearin'
So fuck my rhymes, I got the best appearance
And I survive through project experience
You wanna roll dice or roll and ride?
No matter, you gon' get holes inside
See you fuckin' with Theodore Dieni
You fuckin' with a metaphor King Pin
You fuckin' with him? Wu-Tang
Wu, you fuckin' with them?
Dun, do you wanna gun to make you slim?
So I'mma pop my collar, get my dollars
Pop all parlors and fuckin' with money scholars
You know what I mean? Matter of fact I'm gonna fuck with rockweilers

Pop your collar (do whatever you do best)
Get your dollar (New York, up the ladder to the hill of success)
Pop all collars (you know what we gonna do)
Just pop your collar (New York, say no more, New York, say no more)

Been off the Jackey Don, rollin' the dice with a happy arm
Everything good, money on wood
Bank stoppers, I send them home broke
Have them all in they stash, bettin' they own coat
I takes it all, fifty and better, you make the call
Watch you break your all, big sixes 'cause I'm a nigga who don't like to fall
High roller, see how my dice kiss
Push you pay me, and if I roll trips you pay me twice bitch
I rocks, believe it or not
Come broke to a dice game, step off and leave with a knot
Head cracks is all you see when I'm hot
What's in the pop? A hunnid G's to the bank to the man, who got it stopped
My hand is like a gun, feel the heat when it's cocked
Four, five, six your heart drop, way deep in your socks
You wanna walk, broke your ass down the street with a bop
The drinks is on you tonight, from my peeps in the spot

Pop your collar (do whatever you do best, yo)
Get your dollar (up the ladder to the hill of success)
Pop your collar (you know what we gonna do)
Just pop your collar (pop us, do us, eat nigga eat)

Writer(s): DENNIS DAVID COLES, ROBERT F. DIGGS
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Royalty Network, Spirit Music Group
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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