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"Get Low (Freestyle)" lyrics by JIM JONES
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"Get Low (Freestyle)"

We in the midst of a cold winter, chilling
Niggas would eat your food but it's no dinner, where the food at
I make the paper, no printer
A blood cloud one shit I ain't no sprinter
They say coke is hot and need a cheaper price, we need better men
Better show them what you say they let you keep your life
Pretty nigga dog, let him keep his wife, fuck that bitch
Swear it was Gucci on my feet was [?]
Car getter from the back you can see the price
Interior [?] and the seats were [?]
Her legs [?] stick 5 inches
Told me speed up, she wants to die like the princess, bitch
Her [?] a half [?] joints [?] my cargo
And you don't need the light to see my [?]
A nigga play a nigga [?] have him John Doe.

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