Jane's Addiction vocalist Perry Farrell gives Adam Reader some heartfelt insight into Jane’s Addiction's hard rock manifesto "Mountain Song", which was the second single from their revolutionary album Nothing's Shocking. Mountain song was first recorded in 1986 and appeared on the soundtrack to the film Dudes starring Jon Cryer. The version on Nothing's Shocking was re-recorded in 1988.
"'Mountain Song' was actually about... I hate to say it but... drugs. Climbing this mountain and getting as high as you can, and then coming down that mountain," reveals Farrell. "What it feels to descend from the mountain top... not easy at all. The ascension is tough but exhilarating. Getting down is... it's a real bummer. Drugs is not for everybody obviously. For me, I wanted to experience the heights, and the lows come along with it."
"There's a part - 'Cash in now honey, cash in Miss Smith.' Miss Smith is my Mother; our last name was Smith. Cashing in when she cashed in her life. So... she decided that, to her... at that time, she was desperate. Life wasn't worth it for her, that was her opinion. Some people think, never take your life, and some people find that their life isn't worth living. She was in love with my Dad, and my Dad was not faithful to her, and it broke her heart. She was very desperate and she did something that I know she regrets."
Hey yo Drama, we bout to burn the mothafuckin streets up with this shit
Breakfast Club
I wanna welcome everybody to the mothafuckin R.E.D. Room
This aint a mixtape, this is life
Get ‘em!
Its been a long time, get reacquainted with the world famous
you know how on point my aim is
long range snipers, clash of the titans
chrome pipin, in this 300 like Leonidas
snob in the bubble goose, ridin down the interstate
When fiends put the needles in they arm and let ‘em penetrate
Leanin sideways wit my fitted straight
Them 27s on point the paint job a new york minute late
(Check my audible? no clouds in my stones)
Projects ringin, standin by the corner store
Two glocks on me bang bang if you want a war
That was ’05, now we bought an honest tour
Screamin out thug life, pouring Belve be on ya whore
Money im involved wit it, wake up and ball wit it
Kobe can soar wit it, uncut raw wit it
Chop bricks, take trips OT
before I had a goatee, I used to bag the OC
(Yeah, Fish Scale Nigga, wuddup Ghost)
Then stash em by the Oak Tree, move it by the coke leaf
Drama let the llama Knick niggas like Charles Oakley
Nigga don’t insult me, ill banana boat
B-R-C-K-S’s and stuff em in the Lexus
im sittin fat like Precious, Christ up on the necklace
and I keep them clips on the dresser
Yes sir, I’m bout to ball, Louie bag the fuckin mall
Bitches, Money, and Fast Cars, nigga I want it all
(Yeah, word to my kids nigga I want it all)
Nascar game, why the fuck would I stall
Im the franchise nigga Chris Fuckin Paul
Empty out the cannon hit ya bitch, you, the truck and all
Withdraw 200 thousand, and then fuck it off
King of the hill, got a dime bitch cutting raw
She bagged the last nigga unzipped, she sucked it soft
Black Superman yeah, Im above the law
Ill put this hollow tip a quarter inch above ya jaw
(Eat out a fuckin straw)
Blindfold ya bitch, toss her in the trunk
After the first 48 that bitch smellin like a skunk
It’s a rap I rap when I rap da punk
Throw me in da game module and tell em wrap the bunks
The breakfast club nigga, no captain crunch
This for my dog niggas that eat cats for lunch
Im hungry, like I aint trapped in months
So nigga act and stunt, my glock pack a punch
(Oh rock a heckla’s conscience and seal ya pine box)
Leave ya head wrapped for months while I pass the blunt
To my niggas, we all rocked out, Whats up jigga
Sometimes I be in BK wit Fab on the freeway
Lincoln Continental, and I copped it off of E-Bay
I pop cham like its my b-day
Horsepower under my hood like its a Olympic relay
My flow right on time, no delay
I raise a million dollars send it off to Chile
(Word to my red cross I don’t fuck wit red cross)
im All Madden nigga EA
im in VA, money talks wit Dre and Pharell on 3-way
them 28’s, that’s my dj they spinnin shit
when I took trips OT, I never rented shit
I just dropped and copped, and then I tinted shit
Diddy and Mike Epps im all about the benjamins
in it for the benefits, ill be down at 10 to 6
tell em gimme a porterhouse, and some eggs benedict
(damn that was good but im still hungry)
and im livin it ill be out in Venice shit
they say Weezy Jordan nigga im on my Pippen shit
they say Drake Lebron im on my Mo Williams shit
if TIP is Kobe then fuck it, im Derek Fisher shit
long as im in in the startin 5, imma get it in
cause I promised the city of Compton I would get it in
I was Outkasted Andre Benjamin
Now I slide through with my Dominican women friend
(She like put no ceilins in, yeah)
Yoseppe Hill, expensive wine, Pere Sill
It aint trickin I just spend money on cheap thrills
Big Phantoms, sweet wheels
Backseat like a club make them bitches eat pills
Take Patron shots, til the purse with chrome glocks
Jay Electronica, this a dome shot
So I had to steal it, nigga I had to kill em
I was the turtle in the race I made the rabbit feel it
(yeah, keep runnin nigga)
house is by the subway, feel it through the projects
come through the Mucialago, a foreign object
number 1 prospect the day that I was drafted
Aftermath-matic unleash the fuckin bastard
Don’t respect none of you niggas get in the casket
Talking ratchets, never touched a fuckin automatic
Drama this is tragic, put it in the plastic
88 bars and runnin and throw it wit my other classics
(Drama shoulda warned these niggas, I’m bout to kill em)
yeah, trash bag it, this is crack
and I know you been fiendin for this, come get ya packs
and I do it for the music nigga, fuck the plaques
aint on no beef shit but its still , fuck the rats
and when I’m in New York I set a bunch of traps
put the cheese where they can see it and if ya stunt ya clap
catch em in the club, that’s when I stomp ‘em flat
nigga get up afta that, go get a fuckin bat
(I tell you about these fuckin rats)
they either snitch or bend over to catch
no matter how you look at it I hate fuckin rats
get my bottomless Ciroc and I twist the cap
sit back watch the NBA playoffs and roll a bat
yeah, real fat yeah, all I do is stack bread
in the hood, on the wall, like a fuckin fathead
two 9’s on ya back, Warren Sapp yeah
this my block, and you niggas cant trap here
(unless you wanna get clapped here, head wrapped yeah)
im killin niggas I should have a hundred tat tears
celebrate ya death, toast bottles and clap beers
its gon be a cold summer, come through like BURR
the red Phantom bullshit, the 25 Steve Kurt
the beat insane, just blazed in this mothafucker
the cars outside the Ks in this mothafucker
I should let off a couple strays in this mothafucker
Fuck that, tryna get laid in this mothafucker
(yo tell your friends, to get wit my friends)
yeah, meet me in the parkin lot, license plate, Aftermath
Screamin out fuck 50 wouldn’t snitch for half his cash
If he wasn’t such a bitch nobody woulda had to blast
Send this down to Jacksonville, don’t make me have to wrap ya jag
Cause I’d rather be in Sandro Pe im packin bags
Wit bitches that speak French, how you say catch a cab
I don’t trip Euros, I don’t trip pounds
I bowlin ball bitches til I knock em all down
(like the ’93 Pac, I get around)
duffles by the stair case, crack by the back door
navigate my way through the south, I used to trap ho
all the way through Queens bridge, movin packs yo
mighta lost a couple friends, but I got my gat though
blast fo, my rap foes, could never stop my cash flow
had a nike box of 100’s when I was in that RAV-4
but now I pull up in that truck, with the crash bar
with the mad glow give you everything that you ask for
(sometimes, I could be a fuckin asshole)
in the bank with my mask off, look at this nigga AR
don’t take ya fuckin mask off bitch empty out the cash drawer
we on a suicide mission, but we don’t give a fuck
cause if we make it out, bigga house, bigga truck
im in the strip club with a glock, nigga what
gimme your bitch she got a cuter face and bigga butt
I aint gon do shit but pour champagne on her
Hit it from the back and watch half of the Laker game on her
(don’t put that back on, too many cum stains on it)
runnin train on her, call Cartoon
have him tattoo my name on her, Startrak 2
you know what, fuck it, Aftermath 2
put a little smoke around it
then take it home and pound it
helicopter outside, nigga I’m surrounded
had a spot in the jungle til the fuckin Feds found it
Mama ya son got a public announcement
I got 5 million in the walls and the couches
(don’t even think about it we got cameras, dogs, and guns)
ask Pepe he was there, he can vouch it
threw it in the trash can on some Oscar the Grouch shit
a bunch of green popped out, time to re-route shit
settle down in Mississippi, got a down south click
and my niggas like we aint know all about this
and any nigga ever snitch, got his fuckin mouth fixed
you get 25, he get his fuckin throat slit
cut ‘em like Filet Mignon and throw him off the boat bitch
(I feed him to the sharks then dock the yacht)
oil in the water damn the ocean so thick
time to finish off these niggas on some trench coat shit
it’s a drug war, real life Grand Theft
catch you in the street, fuck you up and hit ya man next
come through on some retarded shit, just brand text
where my dogs at tell em im crazier than dmx
lazier than Chinese eyes, when im puffin that
blueberry I aint talking where the muffins at
(roll up the sour diesel if you want nigga)
I split open a dutch, then im stuffin that
You should get a flight to California come fuck with that
That’s all you, go ahead, hop in the truck with that
Take it down to Cashville and hit Yung Buck with that
Don’t bring nothing back border patrol cuffin that
I aint tryna see the pen and have to get my knuckles wrapped
I wake up real early, keep lunchin fags
This shit easy you rap niggas my punchin bags
(I got some combinations nigga Pacquiao shit)
talking bout you poppin Tags, talking bout you poppin Crys
where you get it poppin at, nigga you aint poppin shit
but an X pill, as I turn the Lex wheels
I got a mean Phantom, very upset grill
tell ‘em why you mad son, that nigga pulled a fast one
you know who you are, when I see you, that’s ya ass son
but I’m in the club, throwin shots like my last gun
it’s 2:00, Yer, gotta make a cash run
(Yo, go get the trucks from around the corner, tell Rat to bring my Ciroc)
Into the 7/11, bout to blast one
This nigga AR will not keep his fuckin mask on
Deal wit it when we get to the crib
You niggas is wildin, wait til we get to the crib
And split this fuckin money up
Hit the block and dummy up
Shave the onion, slice it down the middle, that’s a tummy tuck
That’s how we do it in Compton, fuck the police
Defend my hood like a NHL goalie
(Sometimes its cold on these muthafuckin streets nigga)
Iced out Rollie, and I still remember everything that Dre told me
Red pull o(ver) fleece, sippin on that OE
Never been to jail cause I never had a code-d
Do it just like the OGs
Cut the Impala in half and insert the gold D’s
And bounce this muthafucka until it got a slow leak
Flatbed, pick it up, and you know me
I’m going with the car, all night, no sleep
(I gotta get this muthafucka back on the strip)
Next day we in the red Phantom, four deep
Kids runnin up to the car, block off the whole street
It’s the ice cream man like OP
Cali like the Lions O line, its where the holes be
BC runnin shit like a nose bleed
Don’t get it confused, the screw like Codeine
More swag than those nigga from there show me
That’s your bitch? I’m bout to mack her like Goldie
(shit together we can move around baby)
Blacked out Cardiairs, Four Seasons, caviar
Spray a little Diddy on it, that’ll get they panties off
Niggas see me in the lobby looking like “damn he soft”
Catch me outside where I can let this fuckin cannon off
Suit to the root, bet ill let this cannon off
And put everything in the clip right where you standin dawg
Ride off in the Mazi, like can I ball
For the Bucks im tryin to get it like Brandon dawg
(Young Money, clearly NBA rookie of the year)
I’m still standin tall, wish the Twin Towers was
Take innocent lives, that’s the type of shit a coward does
I’m just reminiscin, smokin on this sour blunt
Take a couple mo’ hits and pass the shit around the bus
You cant tell me shit, i done seen a thousand drugs
A hundred rounds, and ten drums, that’s a thousand slugs
One day I flipped the kitchen table, found a bug
Kept looking, found another one right around the subs
(hey yo Feds, can you hear me?)
Goddamn, I was taking a shit, then I seen one by the tub
Feedin my fish, theres a wire right by the rug
Dumb muthafuckas, this is not where they buy the drugs
That’s salami in the kitchen that we fryin up
The world’s full of bitches, all the niggas dyin up
They stretchin niggas out for crack, all the fiends tryin dust
We got some mean smokers, for the sack, they tie you up
Quarter sack, then hit the pound brick and burn the house down
(? Aint gonna think that shit is funny)
The fuck is niggas laughin at?
Run up, you got some cash in that?
Knock on your mama door, your head sittin in the basinet
While im on the G4, smokin up half the jet
All season in Ney York, smokin up half the Jets
246 bars, aint broke half a sweat
Just got half a mil, gave the hood half the check
And I done shot it out with probably over half the Jets
Sometimes just for the love, the other half respect
(that’s that hood shit, I’m livin good bitch)
Outta my mind, like breakin off half an X
Moving through Hollywood faster than a bag of meth
Yep, niggas better watch they step
Unless they in a fraternity
But that aint concerning me
Lets get back on this ape shit, back to the basics
Cold words flip birds in the kitchen with cake mix
Yeah, Betty Crocker that
Then hit the block with that
Cut off khakis, house shoes, and a stocking cap
(? Red tipped socks)
My flow a 38, don’t make me have to cock it back
Shoot it like Elijah Wine and bring the old Rockets back
Two holes in your face where your sockets at
Bring the whole hood out and show ‘em how to drop a rat
They got them brand new Porsches out, I’m coppin that
V12 under the hood, aint no stockin that
Panoramic sunroof, me and this chick watching glass
My hood like cameras in the bumper, watch your ass
(get you ass smoked around these parts youngin)
What the fuck you thought? Ride up bangin Too Short
Smoke you like a Newport, nigga this aint New York
I be in the jungle with lions that ran the zoo lost
With my wolves that dying to get they tools off
City of Angels, be careful who you cross
Niggas’ll run and tell Mr. Chows to take those jewels off
Rappin all that goon shit, we all know that you soft
A baby’s ass in a Martha Stewart face cloth
(like a box of cotton, stay puss til you rottin)
So nigga, you stay on your rap shit
and ill stay on my trap shit, my bust a gat shit
Busta hit me like you wrote 400 that quick?
Nah 282, and that’s just cause the track’s sick
120 more, welcome to the liquor store
Same one that Frog sent me, lil nigga get the raw
And I did it, so Cedar Block I’m with it
Who you think got all these nigga in them Cincinnati fitteds? Yeah
(Took America and King Griffin’d that)
758’s throw on my crown
Throw on my khakis and brush the nikes down
Jump in the lap and push the night town
And the the Space Jams, I need ‘em right now
Jordan sweatsuit on, how they do it
Go Wacka Flocka on these niggas in the new kicks
You know how that go, new kicks, new whip
Blue 6 locin on the set like a new crip
(that line was so crazy I had to share that shit blood)
Interior coke white, and smooth like cool whip
Sold the shit to Rick Ross, 80thou cool flip
Then I got that vibrant thing, my lil qutip
That Mazarati a problem, especially with the dual shift
0 to 60 and whew its like a mule kick
I swear to God like the preacher in the pulpit
Speaking the pools, my heater, come through bitch
Long as it’s the pearl I don’t care who you come through with
(Candian, Spanish, French, nigga whateva)
Minaj in the deep end, head in the back end
I wanna fuck the asian bitch, next time leave your fat friend
Why the fuck ya’ll in the Honda all packed in
Headed to Inglewood, say waddup to Mack 10
Say waddup to Glock 9, im back on you niggas
LA would be a ghost town if I wanted niggas dead
Run with my Good Squad cause more than half you nigga feds
Its either that or ATF or one of 50 friends
(I see the wires hangin out you niggas’ levi’s)
Well fuck it though, cause the nigga did let me in
But he aint wanna see the Game in HD on ESPN
I think the ? we was the best of friends
But then the shit flipped, went through his hoes like I was mexican
We all know the rest, but the burner to his chest
Hit em with 300 bars and let the streets do the rest
Yes, terror is over, you can eat now
Jayceon killed Freddy, the whole world can sleep now
(Dream snatcher, that’s me now)
Take yo money, lay yo bitch ass on the beach now
I can see, a GUNIT beach towel
Another man on, ya’ll bout to tan on it?
Send some lil Goons by to kick some fuckin sand on it
We aint watchin, go ahead nigga, jam on it
Damn homie, in high school you was the man homie
Yo was lucky in Manhattan, the clip jammed
But come to Cali, you a moose in some quicksand
(sink nigga like a fuckin boat with bullet holes in it)
Butter soft Banks, you a bitch man
Me and you was cool until 50 unscrewed ya kickstand
And Yayo, turn in your senior citizen wristband
Slap the shit out of you for at little hench men
And just like the old days, I play the bench man
Dre play the big hand, I’m cool with the six man
Never selfish nigga, I’m eatin shellfish nigga
My legacy’ll never die, the black Elvis nigga
(Come check me out in Graceland nigga, pull out a guitar and everything)
Glock by my pelvis, clip by my waistline
On the block like Chris ? shoot it by the bassline
We at the 350 mark, its break time
(Eyo go get the L outta the car man
Nah this purple haze nigga
Im bout to roll this shit up and get high nigga
Finish this muthafuck 400 bars
Nah my key’s right there
by that, that coconut Ciroc
yeah, lets go
yo tell them runners I’m hungry man
get some French toast, bacon, and shit)
run up on you with 50 beams and 50 chiefs
nigga thinkin this the Game tryna push a left
call a time out, like I’m out
all these soft ass rappers fakin the crime route
niggas got real quiet now that Shine out
don’t make me have to smuggle em out of Belize
and pull the nines out
niggas scared now, my Goon Squad here now
we turnin on the headlights and runnin over deers now
(yeah, all up in the woods, whats good)
And I’m the only one you rap niggas should fear now
You see a GUNIT poster, you better tear it down
I’m talkin to you muthafucka, so turn around
The beef forever lives, never ever put your burner down
I beat the shit out these niggas, they Tina Turner now
Stripped of they manhood, ass naked like they Sherman now
While I peel a top on the block and just burn it out
Hit the strip club with my niggas and just turn it out
(eyo that Jeezy’s mutha fuckin Lambo? That shit cold nigga)
They got free hot wings, they bringin full service out
Its all good, we straight, time to perm it out
Kat Williams, run up in your house, tie you up
and make you watch while we run through your spouse
yeah fuck your fuckin blouse?
Tiger Woods been in this?
No thank you, pass that bitch the ?
Get what I came for, stuff it inside the Range doors
380 bars in, get ready for the main course
(yo gimme a couple of napkins, a salad fork, I’m starving)
June 15, one of us have to change course
But the one that spit 400, blood ? horse
8 plaques on the wall, hang yours
Before you get one I’ll probably have 8 more
Its never been about the money with me
Just been about tryna get my niggas something to eat
Take em on a couple tours, give em something to beat
Never satisfied that’s why we keep the guns on his feet
(yeah all I know is block, glocks, and Ciroc)
Lets get it, who gotta ? I can chief
Niggas runnin around like Indians
But near not one of em chiefs
Killer California, I’m just one of the beasts
Took a fuckin blood bath, and bathe myself with the beef
Uh, it’s the home stretch but I aint even home yet
The only thing that can stop me is me, I’m my own threat
Eatin lobsters, write out Patron checks
I still aint on the level of Nori or Capone yet
(niggas gonna learn to respect the veterans, nigga apologize to Cube)
But after this year, and after this here
Niggas wont see the throne for another 6 years
PS muthafucka: aint no bitch here
I’m going out the same way I came in, fifth gear
I see the finish line, shit yeah!
Its time to celebrate, Canary, bring that Cris here
Sticks, tell Crack to bring the cars around the back
406 bars bitch, it’s a wrap!
Breakfast Club
I wanna welcome everybody to the mothafuckin R.E.D. Room
This aint a mixtape, this is life
Get ‘em!
Its been a long time, get reacquainted with the world famous
you know how on point my aim is
long range snipers, clash of the titans
chrome pipin, in this 300 like Leonidas
snob in the bubble goose, ridin down the interstate
When fiends put the needles in they arm and let ‘em penetrate
Leanin sideways wit my fitted straight
Them 27s on point the paint job a new york minute late
(Check my audible? no clouds in my stones)
Projects ringin, standin by the corner store
Two glocks on me bang bang if you want a war
That was ’05, now we bought an honest tour
Screamin out thug life, pouring Belve be on ya whore
Money im involved wit it, wake up and ball wit it
Kobe can soar wit it, uncut raw wit it
Chop bricks, take trips OT
before I had a goatee, I used to bag the OC
(Yeah, Fish Scale Nigga, wuddup Ghost)
Then stash em by the Oak Tree, move it by the coke leaf
Drama let the llama Knick niggas like Charles Oakley
Nigga don’t insult me, ill banana boat
B-R-C-K-S’s and stuff em in the Lexus
im sittin fat like Precious, Christ up on the necklace
and I keep them clips on the dresser
Yes sir, I’m bout to ball, Louie bag the fuckin mall
Bitches, Money, and Fast Cars, nigga I want it all
(Yeah, word to my kids nigga I want it all)
Nascar game, why the fuck would I stall
Im the franchise nigga Chris Fuckin Paul
Empty out the cannon hit ya bitch, you, the truck and all
Withdraw 200 thousand, and then fuck it off
King of the hill, got a dime bitch cutting raw
She bagged the last nigga unzipped, she sucked it soft
Black Superman yeah, Im above the law
Ill put this hollow tip a quarter inch above ya jaw
(Eat out a fuckin straw)
Blindfold ya bitch, toss her in the trunk
After the first 48 that bitch smellin like a skunk
It’s a rap I rap when I rap da punk
Throw me in da game module and tell em wrap the bunks
The breakfast club nigga, no captain crunch
This for my dog niggas that eat cats for lunch
Im hungry, like I aint trapped in months
So nigga act and stunt, my glock pack a punch
(Oh rock a heckla’s conscience and seal ya pine box)
Leave ya head wrapped for months while I pass the blunt
To my niggas, we all rocked out, Whats up jigga
Sometimes I be in BK wit Fab on the freeway
Lincoln Continental, and I copped it off of E-Bay
I pop cham like its my b-day
Horsepower under my hood like its a Olympic relay
My flow right on time, no delay
I raise a million dollars send it off to Chile
(Word to my red cross I don’t fuck wit red cross)
im All Madden nigga EA
im in VA, money talks wit Dre and Pharell on 3-way
them 28’s, that’s my dj they spinnin shit
when I took trips OT, I never rented shit
I just dropped and copped, and then I tinted shit
Diddy and Mike Epps im all about the benjamins
in it for the benefits, ill be down at 10 to 6
tell em gimme a porterhouse, and some eggs benedict
(damn that was good but im still hungry)
and im livin it ill be out in Venice shit
they say Weezy Jordan nigga im on my Pippen shit
they say Drake Lebron im on my Mo Williams shit
if TIP is Kobe then fuck it, im Derek Fisher shit
long as im in in the startin 5, imma get it in
cause I promised the city of Compton I would get it in
I was Outkasted Andre Benjamin
Now I slide through with my Dominican women friend
(She like put no ceilins in, yeah)
Yoseppe Hill, expensive wine, Pere Sill
It aint trickin I just spend money on cheap thrills
Big Phantoms, sweet wheels
Backseat like a club make them bitches eat pills
Take Patron shots, til the purse with chrome glocks
Jay Electronica, this a dome shot
So I had to steal it, nigga I had to kill em
I was the turtle in the race I made the rabbit feel it
(yeah, keep runnin nigga)
house is by the subway, feel it through the projects
come through the Mucialago, a foreign object
number 1 prospect the day that I was drafted
Aftermath-matic unleash the fuckin bastard
Don’t respect none of you niggas get in the casket
Talking ratchets, never touched a fuckin automatic
Drama this is tragic, put it in the plastic
88 bars and runnin and throw it wit my other classics
(Drama shoulda warned these niggas, I’m bout to kill em)
yeah, trash bag it, this is crack
and I know you been fiendin for this, come get ya packs
and I do it for the music nigga, fuck the plaques
aint on no beef shit but its still , fuck the rats
and when I’m in New York I set a bunch of traps
put the cheese where they can see it and if ya stunt ya clap
catch em in the club, that’s when I stomp ‘em flat
nigga get up afta that, go get a fuckin bat
(I tell you about these fuckin rats)
they either snitch or bend over to catch
no matter how you look at it I hate fuckin rats
get my bottomless Ciroc and I twist the cap
sit back watch the NBA playoffs and roll a bat
yeah, real fat yeah, all I do is stack bread
in the hood, on the wall, like a fuckin fathead
two 9’s on ya back, Warren Sapp yeah
this my block, and you niggas cant trap here
(unless you wanna get clapped here, head wrapped yeah)
im killin niggas I should have a hundred tat tears
celebrate ya death, toast bottles and clap beers
its gon be a cold summer, come through like BURR
the red Phantom bullshit, the 25 Steve Kurt
the beat insane, just blazed in this mothafucker
the cars outside the Ks in this mothafucker
I should let off a couple strays in this mothafucker
Fuck that, tryna get laid in this mothafucker
(yo tell your friends, to get wit my friends)
yeah, meet me in the parkin lot, license plate, Aftermath
Screamin out fuck 50 wouldn’t snitch for half his cash
If he wasn’t such a bitch nobody woulda had to blast
Send this down to Jacksonville, don’t make me have to wrap ya jag
Cause I’d rather be in Sandro Pe im packin bags
Wit bitches that speak French, how you say catch a cab
I don’t trip Euros, I don’t trip pounds
I bowlin ball bitches til I knock em all down
(like the ’93 Pac, I get around)
duffles by the stair case, crack by the back door
navigate my way through the south, I used to trap ho
all the way through Queens bridge, movin packs yo
mighta lost a couple friends, but I got my gat though
blast fo, my rap foes, could never stop my cash flow
had a nike box of 100’s when I was in that RAV-4
but now I pull up in that truck, with the crash bar
with the mad glow give you everything that you ask for
(sometimes, I could be a fuckin asshole)
in the bank with my mask off, look at this nigga AR
don’t take ya fuckin mask off bitch empty out the cash drawer
we on a suicide mission, but we don’t give a fuck
cause if we make it out, bigga house, bigga truck
im in the strip club with a glock, nigga what
gimme your bitch she got a cuter face and bigga butt
I aint gon do shit but pour champagne on her
Hit it from the back and watch half of the Laker game on her
(don’t put that back on, too many cum stains on it)
runnin train on her, call Cartoon
have him tattoo my name on her, Startrak 2
you know what, fuck it, Aftermath 2
put a little smoke around it
then take it home and pound it
helicopter outside, nigga I’m surrounded
had a spot in the jungle til the fuckin Feds found it
Mama ya son got a public announcement
I got 5 million in the walls and the couches
(don’t even think about it we got cameras, dogs, and guns)
ask Pepe he was there, he can vouch it
threw it in the trash can on some Oscar the Grouch shit
a bunch of green popped out, time to re-route shit
settle down in Mississippi, got a down south click
and my niggas like we aint know all about this
and any nigga ever snitch, got his fuckin mouth fixed
you get 25, he get his fuckin throat slit
cut ‘em like Filet Mignon and throw him off the boat bitch
(I feed him to the sharks then dock the yacht)
oil in the water damn the ocean so thick
time to finish off these niggas on some trench coat shit
it’s a drug war, real life Grand Theft
catch you in the street, fuck you up and hit ya man next
come through on some retarded shit, just brand text
where my dogs at tell em im crazier than dmx
lazier than Chinese eyes, when im puffin that
blueberry I aint talking where the muffins at
(roll up the sour diesel if you want nigga)
I split open a dutch, then im stuffin that
You should get a flight to California come fuck with that
That’s all you, go ahead, hop in the truck with that
Take it down to Cashville and hit Yung Buck with that
Don’t bring nothing back border patrol cuffin that
I aint tryna see the pen and have to get my knuckles wrapped
I wake up real early, keep lunchin fags
This shit easy you rap niggas my punchin bags
(I got some combinations nigga Pacquiao shit)
talking bout you poppin Tags, talking bout you poppin Crys
where you get it poppin at, nigga you aint poppin shit
but an X pill, as I turn the Lex wheels
I got a mean Phantom, very upset grill
tell ‘em why you mad son, that nigga pulled a fast one
you know who you are, when I see you, that’s ya ass son
but I’m in the club, throwin shots like my last gun
it’s 2:00, Yer, gotta make a cash run
(Yo, go get the trucks from around the corner, tell Rat to bring my Ciroc)
Into the 7/11, bout to blast one
This nigga AR will not keep his fuckin mask on
Deal wit it when we get to the crib
You niggas is wildin, wait til we get to the crib
And split this fuckin money up
Hit the block and dummy up
Shave the onion, slice it down the middle, that’s a tummy tuck
That’s how we do it in Compton, fuck the police
Defend my hood like a NHL goalie
(Sometimes its cold on these muthafuckin streets nigga)
Iced out Rollie, and I still remember everything that Dre told me
Red pull o(ver) fleece, sippin on that OE
Never been to jail cause I never had a code-d
Do it just like the OGs
Cut the Impala in half and insert the gold D’s
And bounce this muthafucka until it got a slow leak
Flatbed, pick it up, and you know me
I’m going with the car, all night, no sleep
(I gotta get this muthafucka back on the strip)
Next day we in the red Phantom, four deep
Kids runnin up to the car, block off the whole street
It’s the ice cream man like OP
Cali like the Lions O line, its where the holes be
BC runnin shit like a nose bleed
Don’t get it confused, the screw like Codeine
More swag than those nigga from there show me
That’s your bitch? I’m bout to mack her like Goldie
(shit together we can move around baby)
Blacked out Cardiairs, Four Seasons, caviar
Spray a little Diddy on it, that’ll get they panties off
Niggas see me in the lobby looking like “damn he soft”
Catch me outside where I can let this fuckin cannon off
Suit to the root, bet ill let this cannon off
And put everything in the clip right where you standin dawg
Ride off in the Mazi, like can I ball
For the Bucks im tryin to get it like Brandon dawg
(Young Money, clearly NBA rookie of the year)
I’m still standin tall, wish the Twin Towers was
Take innocent lives, that’s the type of shit a coward does
I’m just reminiscin, smokin on this sour blunt
Take a couple mo’ hits and pass the shit around the bus
You cant tell me shit, i done seen a thousand drugs
A hundred rounds, and ten drums, that’s a thousand slugs
One day I flipped the kitchen table, found a bug
Kept looking, found another one right around the subs
(hey yo Feds, can you hear me?)
Goddamn, I was taking a shit, then I seen one by the tub
Feedin my fish, theres a wire right by the rug
Dumb muthafuckas, this is not where they buy the drugs
That’s salami in the kitchen that we fryin up
The world’s full of bitches, all the niggas dyin up
They stretchin niggas out for crack, all the fiends tryin dust
We got some mean smokers, for the sack, they tie you up
Quarter sack, then hit the pound brick and burn the house down
(? Aint gonna think that shit is funny)
The fuck is niggas laughin at?
Run up, you got some cash in that?
Knock on your mama door, your head sittin in the basinet
While im on the G4, smokin up half the jet
All season in Ney York, smokin up half the Jets
246 bars, aint broke half a sweat
Just got half a mil, gave the hood half the check
And I done shot it out with probably over half the Jets
Sometimes just for the love, the other half respect
(that’s that hood shit, I’m livin good bitch)
Outta my mind, like breakin off half an X
Moving through Hollywood faster than a bag of meth
Yep, niggas better watch they step
Unless they in a fraternity
But that aint concerning me
Lets get back on this ape shit, back to the basics
Cold words flip birds in the kitchen with cake mix
Yeah, Betty Crocker that
Then hit the block with that
Cut off khakis, house shoes, and a stocking cap
(? Red tipped socks)
My flow a 38, don’t make me have to cock it back
Shoot it like Elijah Wine and bring the old Rockets back
Two holes in your face where your sockets at
Bring the whole hood out and show ‘em how to drop a rat
They got them brand new Porsches out, I’m coppin that
V12 under the hood, aint no stockin that
Panoramic sunroof, me and this chick watching glass
My hood like cameras in the bumper, watch your ass
(get you ass smoked around these parts youngin)
What the fuck you thought? Ride up bangin Too Short
Smoke you like a Newport, nigga this aint New York
I be in the jungle with lions that ran the zoo lost
With my wolves that dying to get they tools off
City of Angels, be careful who you cross
Niggas’ll run and tell Mr. Chows to take those jewels off
Rappin all that goon shit, we all know that you soft
A baby’s ass in a Martha Stewart face cloth
(like a box of cotton, stay puss til you rottin)
So nigga, you stay on your rap shit
and ill stay on my trap shit, my bust a gat shit
Busta hit me like you wrote 400 that quick?
Nah 282, and that’s just cause the track’s sick
120 more, welcome to the liquor store
Same one that Frog sent me, lil nigga get the raw
And I did it, so Cedar Block I’m with it
Who you think got all these nigga in them Cincinnati fitteds? Yeah
(Took America and King Griffin’d that)
758’s throw on my crown
Throw on my khakis and brush the nikes down
Jump in the lap and push the night town
And the the Space Jams, I need ‘em right now
Jordan sweatsuit on, how they do it
Go Wacka Flocka on these niggas in the new kicks
You know how that go, new kicks, new whip
Blue 6 locin on the set like a new crip
(that line was so crazy I had to share that shit blood)
Interior coke white, and smooth like cool whip
Sold the shit to Rick Ross, 80thou cool flip
Then I got that vibrant thing, my lil qutip
That Mazarati a problem, especially with the dual shift
0 to 60 and whew its like a mule kick
I swear to God like the preacher in the pulpit
Speaking the pools, my heater, come through bitch
Long as it’s the pearl I don’t care who you come through with
(Candian, Spanish, French, nigga whateva)
Minaj in the deep end, head in the back end
I wanna fuck the asian bitch, next time leave your fat friend
Why the fuck ya’ll in the Honda all packed in
Headed to Inglewood, say waddup to Mack 10
Say waddup to Glock 9, im back on you niggas
LA would be a ghost town if I wanted niggas dead
Run with my Good Squad cause more than half you nigga feds
Its either that or ATF or one of 50 friends
(I see the wires hangin out you niggas’ levi’s)
Well fuck it though, cause the nigga did let me in
But he aint wanna see the Game in HD on ESPN
I think the ? we was the best of friends
But then the shit flipped, went through his hoes like I was mexican
We all know the rest, but the burner to his chest
Hit em with 300 bars and let the streets do the rest
Yes, terror is over, you can eat now
Jayceon killed Freddy, the whole world can sleep now
(Dream snatcher, that’s me now)
Take yo money, lay yo bitch ass on the beach now
I can see, a GUNIT beach towel
Another man on, ya’ll bout to tan on it?
Send some lil Goons by to kick some fuckin sand on it
We aint watchin, go ahead nigga, jam on it
Damn homie, in high school you was the man homie
Yo was lucky in Manhattan, the clip jammed
But come to Cali, you a moose in some quicksand
(sink nigga like a fuckin boat with bullet holes in it)
Butter soft Banks, you a bitch man
Me and you was cool until 50 unscrewed ya kickstand
And Yayo, turn in your senior citizen wristband
Slap the shit out of you for at little hench men
And just like the old days, I play the bench man
Dre play the big hand, I’m cool with the six man
Never selfish nigga, I’m eatin shellfish nigga
My legacy’ll never die, the black Elvis nigga
(Come check me out in Graceland nigga, pull out a guitar and everything)
Glock by my pelvis, clip by my waistline
On the block like Chris ? shoot it by the bassline
We at the 350 mark, its break time
(Eyo go get the L outta the car man
Nah this purple haze nigga
Im bout to roll this shit up and get high nigga
Finish this muthafuck 400 bars
Nah my key’s right there
by that, that coconut Ciroc
yeah, lets go
yo tell them runners I’m hungry man
get some French toast, bacon, and shit)
run up on you with 50 beams and 50 chiefs
nigga thinkin this the Game tryna push a left
call a time out, like I’m out
all these soft ass rappers fakin the crime route
niggas got real quiet now that Shine out
don’t make me have to smuggle em out of Belize
and pull the nines out
niggas scared now, my Goon Squad here now
we turnin on the headlights and runnin over deers now
(yeah, all up in the woods, whats good)
And I’m the only one you rap niggas should fear now
You see a GUNIT poster, you better tear it down
I’m talkin to you muthafucka, so turn around
The beef forever lives, never ever put your burner down
I beat the shit out these niggas, they Tina Turner now
Stripped of they manhood, ass naked like they Sherman now
While I peel a top on the block and just burn it out
Hit the strip club with my niggas and just turn it out
(eyo that Jeezy’s mutha fuckin Lambo? That shit cold nigga)
They got free hot wings, they bringin full service out
Its all good, we straight, time to perm it out
Kat Williams, run up in your house, tie you up
and make you watch while we run through your spouse
yeah fuck your fuckin blouse?
Tiger Woods been in this?
No thank you, pass that bitch the ?
Get what I came for, stuff it inside the Range doors
380 bars in, get ready for the main course
(yo gimme a couple of napkins, a salad fork, I’m starving)
June 15, one of us have to change course
But the one that spit 400, blood ? horse
8 plaques on the wall, hang yours
Before you get one I’ll probably have 8 more
Its never been about the money with me
Just been about tryna get my niggas something to eat
Take em on a couple tours, give em something to beat
Never satisfied that’s why we keep the guns on his feet
(yeah all I know is block, glocks, and Ciroc)
Lets get it, who gotta ? I can chief
Niggas runnin around like Indians
But near not one of em chiefs
Killer California, I’m just one of the beasts
Took a fuckin blood bath, and bathe myself with the beef
Uh, it’s the home stretch but I aint even home yet
The only thing that can stop me is me, I’m my own threat
Eatin lobsters, write out Patron checks
I still aint on the level of Nori or Capone yet
(niggas gonna learn to respect the veterans, nigga apologize to Cube)
But after this year, and after this here
Niggas wont see the throne for another 6 years
PS muthafucka: aint no bitch here
I’m going out the same way I came in, fifth gear
I see the finish line, shit yeah!
Its time to celebrate, Canary, bring that Cris here
Sticks, tell Crack to bring the cars around the back
406 bars bitch, it’s a wrap!
Lyrics submitted by YourFavWeapon83
Add your thoughts
Log in now to tell us what you think this song means.
Don’t have an account? Create an account with SongMeanings to post comments, submit lyrics, and more. It’s super easy, we promise!
More Featured Meanings
Mountain Song
Jane's Addiction
Jane's Addiction
Mountain Song
Jane's Addiction
Jane's Addiction
Jane's Addiction vocalist Perry Farrell gives Adam Reader some heartfelt insight into Jane’s Addiction's hard rock manifesto "Mountain Song", which was the second single from their revolutionary album Nothing's Shocking. Mountain song was first recorded in 1986 and appeared on the soundtrack to the film Dudes starring Jon Cryer. The version on Nothing's Shocking was re-recorded in 1988.
"'Mountain Song' was actually about... I hate to say it but... drugs. Climbing this mountain and getting as high as you can, and then coming down that mountain," reveals Farrell. "What it feels to descend from the mountain top... not easy at all. The ascension is tough but exhilarating. Getting down is... it's a real bummer. Drugs is not for everybody obviously. For me, I wanted to experience the heights, and the lows come along with it."
"There's a part - 'Cash in now honey, cash in Miss Smith.' Miss Smith is my Mother; our last name was Smith. Cashing in when she cashed in her life. So... she decided that, to her... at that time, she was desperate. Life wasn't worth it for her, that was her opinion. Some people think, never take your life, and some people find that their life isn't worth living. She was in love with my Dad, and my Dad was not faithful to her, and it broke her heart. She was very desperate and she did something that I know she regrets."
No Surprises
Radiohead
Radiohead
Same ideas expressed in Fitter, Happier are expressed in this song. We're told to strive for some sort of ideal life, which includes getting a good job, being kind to everyone, finding a partner, getting married, having a couple kids, living in a quiet neighborhood in a nice big house, etc. But in Fitter, Happier the narrator(?) realizes that it's incredibly robotic to live this life. People are being used by those in power "like a pig in a cage on antibiotics"--being pacified with things like new phones and cool gadgets and houses while being sucked dry. On No Surprises, the narrator is realizing how this life is killing him slowly. In the video, his helmet is slowly filling up with water, drowning him. But he's so complacent with it. This is a good summary of the song. This boring, "perfect" life foisted upon us by some higher powers (not spiritual, but political, economic, etc. politicians and businessmen, perhaps) is not the way to live. But there is seemingly no way out but death. He'd rather die peacefully right now than live in this cage. While our lives are often shielded, we're in our own protective bubbles, or protective helmets like the one Thom wears, if we look a little harder we can see all the corruption, lies, manipulation, etc. that is going on in the world, often run by huge yet nearly invisible organizations, corporations, and 'leaders'. It's a very hopeless song because it reflects real life.
Blue
Ed Sheeran
Ed Sheeran
“Blue” is a song about a love that is persisting in the discomfort of the person experiencing the emotion. Ed Sheeran reflects on love lost, and although he wishes his former partner find happiness, he cannot but admit his feelings are still very much there. He expresses the realization that he might never find another on this stringed instrumental by Aaron Dessner.
Punchline
Ed Sheeran
Ed Sheeran
Ed Sheeran sings about missing his former partner and learning important life lessons in the process on “Punchline.” This track tells a story of battling to get rid of emotions for a former lover, whom he now realized might not have loved him the same way. He’s now caught between accepting that fact and learning life lessons from it and going back to beg her for another chance.