More Than Music

(feat. Juelz Santana, Hell Rell, JR Writer)
[Verse 1: Juelz Santana]
Been riding clean
Two hundred thousand dollar machines
Capital B with the wings
Flyin in a flying spur
Grippin on a iron berg, I in hurr
Shorty in dem designer, jeans
Damn, baby you lookin kinda scrumptous
What are those Citizens Rocker Republics
Antique jeans, Im a antique fiend
Let my antique sag off my antique ass
Crack for me, Im back indeed
***** Im all about my paper like a fax machine
On track like half your ** **
Spit crack, two half a keys, thats a key
You can serve that to fiends
That be me, Santana
Im ballin like an athlete
You ***** * stinkin it up like athletes feet (Ill)
Yep, yep, Im higher than the clouds
Flyer than the owl, hyper than the crowd
Screaming out liud, tell ya ***** calm down
Theres no competitor better than a ***** like me
Etcetera, etcetera
Im the hottest out, better check my temperature
Thermometer popped, cant check my temperature
Nope
[Hook: J.R. Writer]
You couldnt run wit us
Listen, you dont stunt enough
I get it down, get it down, but my money up
Throw a couple bucks, show you how a baller do this
Lemme walk you through it, yup, its more than music
[Verse 2: Hell Rell]
Drip, drip, baby thats the candy paint
Falling off the Ferrari while blowin danky-dank
Love beef so I got my shooters on deck
On the ice so I threw the whole cooler on myneck
I take em to Divas, straight from a no-name hoe
But take em to my hood, show em my ******* flow
They say this your other profession
Dont worry bout what Im sellin
Askin too many questions, just carry my Smith & Wesson
Married to gettin fresh, ya see this rock on my hand
What it cost me, ya know, a brick, about 1000 grams
Listen homie Im the man, theres nothing you can tell me
Some many on ya head, 20 grand on the skully
Where do you shop, never seen those jeans
And I keep it Gd up like Im Gino Greene
Ruger out in the streets, you see me grind
And the chrome rims shine on that DP-9
Its Mr. Ruger
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Juelz Santana]
Cats talkin bout its time to give the winner some
Slow down boy, its time to give the kid a run
Paper chaser, paper spender
And I was built for the ballin like the Staples Center
Can I get a what what, maybe a ooh ooh
But for my homies out there, maybe a Soo-Woo Soo-Woo
Catch me riding round on the prowl
Lookin for some girls gone wild
I put your chick int eh Coupe, and she thick and she cute
They love it when I hit the button, dismiss the roof
Damn, we just had a hardtop
Now look, this car got a bald spot
While your jaw drop, her draws drop
Damn, shorty got a bald spot
Im rock-n-roll like Guns & Roses
The consequences of my guns is roses
I reload just to un-reload it
Lifes a ***** and yep, we bonin, we open
[Hook]