Back to the previous page

Artist: JoJo Pellegrino f/ June Luva
Album:  Hitman for Hire
Song:   American Way
Typed by: X-Calibur, infamouswubird@hotmail.com

[Intro: Jojo Pellegrino (June Luva)]
Yeah, Drama King, Staten Island, stand up
Yeah yeah, (Yo Stretch, what up baby? This is it right here)
Yeah yeah, Yeah yeah, yo
(Yo, yo, what's ya name doggy?)

[JoJo Pellegrino]
JoJo, I spit that shit
Got the streets on smash when I kick that shit
"Where I'm From" I killed that shit
Mic fiendin', they like "I can't believe he did that shit, he flipped that shit"
Italian rap, I built that shit
"Forget About It" should've blown but I ain't pay faggots to spin in that shit
They bit that shit, pyzone, I lit that shit
Five words; eat a big fat dick
This is my chamber
Labels did bad business, they turn a guinea rapper down
that's dead nice then go and frontin pictures usin' his image
Where's ya logic? I'll expose ya frauds
Jo the boss with a fifth to ya vocal chords
Squeeze off, blow ya head, neck and shoulders off
Next one diss you on ya death bed, ya pose for Source
Who the top three emcees? All they flows are soft
Rap styles tired, rhyme schemes are dozin' off
Pelle' the truth, ya doof
Watch the tigers get loose, Tigger filin' a suit
'Cos I set fire to his booth
Hitman For Hire, so gentlemen bump this
Now put ya money up, let's go and do these Eminem numbers
I got a family to feed
I'm tired of battlin' the weak
I'm sick of sandwiches all week
I'm on the train carryin' heat
Feel like I'm married to the street
And I'm stressed 'cos I'm loyal and it's guaranteed she cheat
On the home-front it's beef
My parents told me get my act together
I made a move, hit the dealership with chips and got this Ac' together
Blackwood leather, pull-up on broads, speakers was bumpin'
Hollered at heads while I attack Mookie beeper in London
Staten Island we never stoppin'
Get it poppin'
Quit demo-shoppin', you lames ain't never droppin'
Birds for the Bricks, put in workers, been at homes
Motherfuckers is shook like Big Den back home
S.I. we drunk and high, dance to die
Hug the block 'til it's time to kiss they ass good-bye
Disrespect, oh, time to kiss ya ass good-bye
Ya head's fly, wifey had to kiss ya ass good-bye (Ill)
When stars flash for the lenses
but don't appreciate bein' taped on the strips
so we camera shy (God damn!)
I'm ya host this evenin', Staten slugger
Fifth borough bomber, South shore
This is Joseph speakin'
Yo, Kayslay it's not over man
I got my man June Luva, BSK
Yo what's ya name god?

[June Luva]
Jux, yo I got them packs
and if you owe me any money you gon' pump my cracks
Don't worry son, if niggas front I got them gats
I come through and lay 'em flat on they backs
Y'all niggas know BLOW!
Well let me put you on to how the shit work
Pamelan but cooked it up got em going beserk
I need a quick buck fift, yea
Called Bebo and left a message on his cell and told him to come and hit me
Bugs Bunny Nikes, Monopoly money in my sock honey
Bank account like Scrooge McDuck so I'm quite comfy
Don't get it confused I'm still hungry
You might find ya'self in the position to want to bungy
Eight flights off my project roof
This ain't back in the days when niggas scrap without [?} tooth
Nooooooooo....
Four fifth sparks in the dark
Barks in the day, who gives a fuck what you say
It's the American Way
So get a grip before I stick in my clip
like Mystikal and show you what I'm working wit'
Don't let me find out you working wit police
'Cause I'm gonna give it to ya as fast as  I could in the back of my hood
I'm black and I'm good thats what the bitches tell me
They say I got sex appeal, well if that shit could sell me
You're gonna see me on the billboard of New York streets
On Sunset Boulavard adored by L.A. freaks
Taking Continental flights, ain't coming back for weeks
Wasting money, calling hoes from the phone in the seats
I push big toys like sixes
A.C. blowing, riding wit' bitches
Chinky eye, high in the pictures
Collide wit' niggas, make moves across the blue skies
And I don't discriminate, I sit down wit wiseguys
And kiss them guys wise, and right before we slicing them pies
We look each other dead in them eyes
I make moves through the underground, street level
If you ever heard my thunder sound, meet the devil
And June Luva is hot, not worth the ice, bezzly rock
My glock went clickity pop, ya'll niggas never know who the active boss
JoJo make moves wit niggas in the street, put that in ya Source

[Hook x2: Both [JoJo] (June Luva)]
They for real...
[Hold down my home town spit a dart from the heart, play the streets man they know]
The deal...
(Show love, get love, keep a ratchet in the glove, put it down for my homies)
They ill...
(South Shore, North Shore, fifth borough, ferry bandits off the boat, beef wit us?]
Yo chill...
(Don't make it a drama thing, keep Heaterz, Ninas down to Streetsweepers like Drama King)