I Love You Songtext

[Juelz Santana]

People say my theories is backwards

I tell them sincerely, it's clearly you

Hearing me backwards, ay

I tell 'em I'm great, but still I need practice

I tell them to wait, go and come back quick

They don't understand me

It's not logic, I'm not logic, got problems

I worship the late prophet, the great Muhammad Ali
For the words he spoke that stung like a bee

Soak into me, you fuckaz'll see but

Still i'm insane, I'm rhymin', dealing my brain

I'm grinding sharing my pain, shit, where is the fame?

My niggaz, they still rhyming, still in the game

Still grindin, dealing the cane

Still poppin shit at your frame, homie

I still smell the rotten people that lay

Down in ground zero, forgotten, left there for days

Probably left there to stay, left to decay

Broken pieces of towers left as they graves, hey

I pray let them be saved

Till then, that's just a suggestion I made

You follow me homie?

Listen, I subjected my ways

To cocaine, weapons that spray at your face motherfucker

It's Santana the great motherfucker

In the place motherfucker

Stay away motherfucker

Cause I'm headed straight to the top, motherfucker

Diplomat Taliban slash ROC motherfucker

And yeah, I do this for my block motherfuckers

D-Train, Al Gator, Pac motherfucker

Young drugs, young twins, Sheist bug

Them niggaz I love, my niggaz, my thugs, WHOA

Now come fuck with your boy

Jones, Killa, Freakey, come fuck with your boy, WHOA

It's Santana again, no bandana just him

In the flesh motherfucker, like... YEAH



[Cam'Ron]

Just gotta get past thia

Nah mean? I gotta get this out

Let's do it my nigga

Touch my heart right here man... YO



I seen it time, business and friendship

Well fuck it, friends should get ended

Business attended, clips get extended

Lawyers get called, accountants get faxed

That was my man, well I wish that he meant it, fuck it

It been a long time, hearin the mobsters

This ain't overnight, it's years in the process

Shed a tear in the process, now process is over

All my niggaz get prepared for the Oscars

Back to the block, sharing a lobster

Maurice Malone, Sam Malone, preparing the vodka, holla

Hallejulah, no hum-du-Allah, but respecting my Ock

He held me down, when shit got real rocky

Hustling, isn't a hobby

I sit in the lobby, look at my IV, have visions of Gotti

Visions of lottie, pictures of Blood, scenes of L

I wanna see my son piss in that potty

Jimmy, I'm gon' make sure your wrist is real rocky

See my plans were long term like Mr. Miyagi

Wax on, wax off, put our wax on, take that wack off

Over some nights, I had fights over the white

The road to the lows, I knows what it's like now

Niggaz career over like Mike, anyone

Tyson, Jordan, Jackson, it's over



This shit right here touched my soul, man

My grandmother or something, 56 bless her soul

Apartment 56 that is, 101, West 140th St.

Rest In Peace Lydia Giles, Blood Shed