Artist: June Luva
Album:  2-11 in Progress, Vol. 1
Song:   Jux Gonna Give it to Ya
Typed by: Cno Evil

[June Luva]
You can hide, by the Great Walls of China, but here's a reminder
I put my wolves on the chill and I bet they will find ya
Just when you thought you was safe, I'm right behind ya
When the desert blows, the sparks'll fucking blind ya
Click click boom, sayonara
It's on, fortunate your family won't see you tomorrow
The exorcist, I was raised in the house of horror, the priest
Already tried to save me, so don't even bother
The streets is like ya father, valuable lessons is taught
I stash moonies and razors before I enter court
This game of bloodsport is played on a regular basis
I'm carving Jux down the middle of enemy's faces
Your favorite thug is beating his case, I'm out on bail
And I won't say shit if you won't tell
I got a couple crack bags, God, that I'm gon' sell
And I'mma flip every penny, bring it back to the scale and weight it
The difference between me and you is I'mma say it
Look you hold the guns and God damn it, I'mma spray it
This is me, the muthafucking illest M.C.
You came to be the best, well I'm what you pretending to be, let's go

[Chorus 2X: June Luva]
First I'mma, cock, let my shit, pop
Watch yo ass, drop, then ya'll niggas fold, yeah
Jux gon' give it to ya, he's gon' give it to ya
Jux gon' give it to ya, he's gon' give it to ya

[June Luva]
Most of ya'll cats got the God confused
See I played this game of life well, it's hard to lose
Now I done been beat and battered, scarred and bruised
But I got right back up and told the referee, move
I'm back again with a hell of a chin
And underneath these circumstances, you ain't gon' win
See I done promised my mama a house, promised by baby boy a good life
So I'mma scrap hard cuz the hood's trife
And I don't want them hearing how his father's a thug
How I made ends meet off of slinging the drug
How I shot them six niggas that time in the club
And yo, I do it all again, God, if push came to shove
Show no love, hell nah, man I got something to tell ya'll
So listen up, clowns, cuz it's mail call
And if I state ya name, you feeling my pain
The wrath of a semi automatic clip to your brain
A few showed up and they all came
But the way my desert storm troopers form, you would think my name was Paul Cane
So don't confuse me with them, because they all lame
And you don't wanna see me wit my gat cuz I'm all aim

[Chorus 4X]