Letter 2 Jah (Jah Remix)

Whistle Jah onna beat Ball from the free throw line I feel like Ray Allen Shoot you with my ray No black ops My shooter spray My shooter spray My Glock gay He make niggas pay Change yo mood Now you late The party over grab the K Make yo bed Now you lay Ion get no sleep I need to get paid Yea I need to get paid I'm onna chase He talking slick Make em pay Yea, Yea Make em pay I got fucked over everyday Now I live life And I eat cake Jah ain't shit WHAT! Jah ain't bitch WHAT! He talking like he gone check I was talking to Jay We made a bet Yea, I bet you that he run Nah, I bet you that he don't He gone run to the net and spread Ion know durk But I heard rumors He got infected Call em tumor Learn some manners Yo mama a tutor Six Hundred rhymes Ian steal from Booka Five hundred Crimes I hit onna scooter Four hundred times I listened to Luda Back in O Six I had a Fupa Lost it to the drugs WHAT! Now I get rid of bugs Not from the bed They come from hugs Hoes love to beg She a stallion F*ck is a Meg She caught bodies Now she owe a arm and leg She a boss bitch She look good In red I'm her favorite I had a talk with Ted I had to change my situation F*ck a competition I showed dedication I used my education Lesson after lesson Switch out the Wesson Switch out the Glocks Scratch off the tags I grew up touching mags Now I pop tags go Now I pop tags This my Letter to Jah Go Ain't no more free smook man Smook home go