Jim Jones – Certified Gangstas (Ft The Game & Cam’ron)

Jim Jones - Certified Gangstas (Ft The Game & Cam'ron)

“Certified Gangstas” by Jim Jones featuring The Game and Cam’ron is a gritty hip-hop track released in 2004. The song portrays a raw depiction of street life and gangster culture, with each artist contributing distinct styles and flows. The collaboration adds depth to the track, making it a significant entry in mid-2000s hardcore hip-hop. Check the Jim Jones Certified Gangstas Lyrics and Video here…

Jim Jones Certified Gangstas Lyrics

We ride in that westside (eastside), that no seeds in our stress side (let’s ride)
Jim Jones swervin, I got that purple I’m blowedTight grip on the Escalade poleYeah, Harlem’s jus’ like Compton, that’s jus’ how I rollRed bandana wrapped around the chrome .44
Gun smokin’ like Suge cigarShow me how you stunt you thrown outta movin’ carIf that thing come out, its murder she wroteIf Doc come out, its 30 Impalas on the boat
Nigga, we do this everydayLlamas under the thermal, waitin’ by ya stairs like Mary JBeat niggas ride dirty like Jazze Pha, Cassius ClayKnock a nigga out on the ave today
Bring the mack ya way me and SantanaBlowin’ in the crowd like Donnie HathawayWestside blood gang, niggas know what I’m aboutAnd they know I’m ruff ridin’ so they knock they self out
Now I ride with my vest, .45 and my techBig four in the ’64, like I’m in the WestNot petrified to pit five in ya chest‘Cause, we certified gangstas
Stash the mil’ in the house and I kill in the droughtPass the chick, when I pump, get it crunk in the southIce grill, like a nice meal in my mouthCause, we certified gangstas
You know I keep my eyes wideEastside highrisersWestside lowridersVest with the four-fiver
Yes I fo’ sho fireD-I-P lowriderSee police, slow the ride upYou see squally nigga
‘Cause we switchin’ four lanes (speedin)To see my niggas that bang up (gangsta)In the middle of the ‘jects (Foster), while the pitchin’ raw ‘caine (gettin it)G’d up, posted tough on the turf (uh huh)Long johns and some jeans, fuck a button up shirt (we keep it gully)
Compton, Cedar Block ’cause they bangin’ (G’s up)My ghetto pass is good, be on blocks while they slangin’ (in the dope house)Houston, the purple potion I sip (Texas)While I’m screwin’ up my music in a roaster with Flip (Clover G’s)
NY, you know the City is ours (Capo)You know R.I.P. to Gotti, we the niggas with power (Dipset)As we ride, we screamed out, “Eastside!” (G’s up)All the time as I replied (come on)
Now I ride with my vest, .45 and my techBig four in the ’64, like I’m in the WestNot petrified to pit five in ya chest‘Cause, we certified gangstas
Stash the mil’ in the house and I kill in the droughtPass the chick, when I pump, get it crunk in the southIce grill, like a nice meal in my mouthCause, we certified gangstas
We put the lasers on Glocks (Glock)Razor or ox (ox)As I lay in the drop (drop)Pump the base on the poc (kets)Move the H on our block, in front of H&R blockSee the face on our watch, put ya face on our cock (head)
I keep the Luger huggedShow you how to use a snubWhoopty-whoo, fuck around be you I plug (you)I don’t do the drugs (nah), baby I move the drugs (yes)Right on the computer love, it sound like computer love (computer love)
Duck the cop capers (capers) and the top haters (haters)Foch flavors, Harlem World we got gators (what’s that?)Not dead, I said they alive (live)Lions (lions), tigers (what), bears, oh my (oh my)
Its a straight zooA to Z, May to AprilBring the apes throughFuck around you be ape food, baked food (food)Nine bitches, eight dudesDiamond visions, great cubesGet it straight fool
Now I ride with my vest, .45 and my techBig four in the ’64, like I’m in the WestNot petrified to pit five in ya chest‘Cause, we certified gangstas
Stash the mil’ in the house and I kill in the droughtPass the chick, when I pump, get it crunk in the southIce grill, like a nice meal in my mouthCause, we certified gangstas
That’s right, it’s ya boy (we ride in that eastside)Jones, Capo Status (we roll up while we ride)New York’s Spiderman (we ride in that eastside)Got my boy, Game, Chuck Taylors straight from the westside (please roll up that weed high)

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