.:J&S Customs:.

 
 
Back in the day during those coldest of winters  
We slung that ice that never hinders
EnaBling us to touchdown in every Chill Spot  
Me and the crew serving ‘em with The Best of the What-Not
Tip-top, each of us,,, we were on that come up
Our only gang sign was a gloved hand thumbs up
Our thing,,, keeping the funds up  
Pound by pound had it going on while keeping that low profile  
That was Our Style, and we’d be onnit.  
Grinding. Getting’ it on for a bunch of days  
The way we played was always a set to amaze
No malaise…never finding one of us in a daze  
 
That’s why we wore the crown. Carried it, kept it like that  
Dollars, euros, it’s the way we stacked
Up for all hours keeping things intact.  
Earning, discerning wit them star studded looks  
Some made claims we were them All Star Krooks
Rumored to steal away Kings Queens Bishops & Rooks  
Knights, they’d be in a daze  
All of ‘em mesmerized by our mystifying ways  
See we were the craze. Envy to all them Pawns & Strays  
 
It was just like that because that’s what we do  
For our crew and for ourselves always remaining true
Nothing but the realest of the real coming through
We had ‘em…up and at ‘em
Labeled as the up-enders pandering to no one
The Spanglish on our cue was like Jazz & Soul
Like ballers on a roll we’d be filling that hole  
If you bridged our world you had to pay the toll  
We’d be on it…the anointed  
The way we’d flaunt it…all of it customary  

For all those chill times we were that sanctuary
Our crew everyone knew was just that necessary  
See all our moves were based upon the chemistry  
Fuck captains, we were the Lions of the Industry  
Trust.  No fallacy; we’d slam donk the whole damn galaxy  
Nothing at all ever too sleazy; it’d be just that easy
Each set, one could always bet. There’d be no fret
With no time given over for a false regret  
 
We kept that low profile as part of our style
Back then; the Feds hadn’t more than a single file
Damn near immeasurable; all of us going that extra mile
See O’murda was our motto and keeping the blood off the tile
Downtown-Uptown we could never be bound  
It was all the same even out in that yard  
Flipping it like an ace was our every card  
We’d hit it hard as we’d stack the decks  
No sweat; a fresh breath ‘til nothing’s left  
Taking what we wanted absent of theft  
 
Time & time again called upon by them cutie-kins  
Them Shorties out & about rehearsing their sins
They were like straight out the bottle Jinns  
The ones who…stayed on us like stickpins  
Up & down like asthmatic dolphins  
They were always trying hard to get stuck  
Ready 2 (you know) get down & then duck
Down…facedown or wanting to lace up and ride some laps  
That’s just facts, a bounce here & there or laid out on their backs
 
Them Shorties were into performing them incredible acts
Them & their grizzly grind, taking the whole nine  
Rotating it ‘on time just like a machine  
And for sure, we managed to keep things clean
Settling down to setup another mission each night  
Knowing it'd be either a fast death or a longer life
The in-between most times we put a torch to any strife  
Letting them flames, letting ‘em burn bright  
yeah, it’d be only right.  
 
Each day, we’d be expecting that kinda night  
Then it be onto that next day
There we’d parlay onto another turf
Getting @ it; staying busy for all its worth
Then perhaps some aero-flowing  
Head out down south for some sun & surfing  
Maybe some turkey and then some trunk stuffing
We’d do it straight up without any bluffing
 
All this might go down just to get up for nothing  
Alotta carefree strolling…  
Hardly, never, ever…Never ever thinking about folding  
We’d be strapped with a Jimmy-Jeff  
Have it rapped tight right up inside them mobile mangers  
See you could be loved and twice hated by total strangers
While the entire time we’d be crafting them beats  
The Cheese Sauce real boss, all up on them streets  
For real we’d be slinging treats…  
 
There’d be 24 thru 30” wheeled wagons
Some hopping, some sagging; alotta pilots bragging  
Wherein life’s measurements  
They got measured in macro inches
At the same time living it up with them hoes with fancy toes and them on binges
Meets & greets where their hard nipples got pinches  
What we do; the way we do… it was all but a cinch
The moans & groans overlapping the bass beat…
Such a nice treat  
Which was always the best way of doin shit sweet
None of ‘em; they didn’t have to go that far
We’d just pull up in that dark car; they know who we are
 
Girlfriends waiting to bend it over with us as their friends  
Knowing we’d be the ones who set the pace with them ends  
Straight players knowing who & how much to tell;  
They just invited on the set to serve a player well
See, it was our pace, always our space.  
We were those Auto-Erotic Mechanics
Bo Peeps picked & popped, locked & rocked just to serve & swerve to our antics
We were the Dark City Legends oblivious to panic.  
But if our world were a “boat” you’d have to call it The Titanic
Because it was nice for a while until R.I.C.O. got frantic… man  
How that shit, how it really got manic…
20 looking at Life,,, Now that’s a whole lotta static
 
 
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