Lyrics Juvenile – Power
Text:
Hook: Juvenile
I’m from the hood and I represent (power)
J. prince, nigga, that’s (power)
V-12 engine, that’s (power)
Satellite dish, bitch (power)
You can’t charge up shit without (power)
You want to know what make the world spin? (power)
You’re running low so nigga, plug in (power)
Verse 1: Juvenile
Power is muscle, there ain’t too many niggas with it
Money on my mind, I swear I wear it like a fitted
I’m pouring out my heart to be that nigga in the city
Homies in the hood already saying I done did it
Power’s what I got, I show it off cause I could
Field goal kicker, motherfuckers, I’m good
The drop’s got a v-12 in it, it go bbrrrrr
And the bitches be like, «uhhhhh»
I’m no quitter
I could get a nigga knocked off sitting on the shitter
I wake up in the morning and I call shots
I ain’t trying to buy a car, I want the car lot
I’m in a whole nother tax bracket
Shop addict, a nigga got a saks habit
I talk money boy, take heed
They get the picture when I say cheese
Hook
Verse 2: Rick Ross
Power is something that you develop on the block
Pull up on a bad bitch sitting in a drop
Coke cologne, now come and get a brick from me
Born in the ghetto, now a nigga in a mansion
Looking at my bezel and that motherfucker dancing
Power is something that get a nigga questions answered
Now these hoes so romantic
Look at me balling, we courtside at the game
Twenty for the ticket, ‘nother hundred for the chain
Count money, money machines they going ccccccrrrrrrr
So that mean a nigga full
Nigga got to get it in the sun like a dog
Way before the watches, I’m the motherfucking boss
Money come with power and I think we got it mastered
Snatch the bird out the plastic
Hook
Verse 3: Juvenile
Power is respect, you gotta get it in the mud
Check the dna, see if it’s really in the blood
Motherfuckers talking about me say I’m a thug
They figure since I’m balling up packets from the drugs
Niggas in the kitchen mixing dope like a chemist
They pray that I’mma lose it — that ain’t in my religion
Boy, I drive birds down south like a pigeon
You ain’t sitting on a hundred million, you ain’t living
Smoking on kush, it’s smelling like ass
I run through a quarter million like grass
Scarface, bitch — I’m feeling like brad
I’m a underground king like chad
I’m in the mansion with an opal model marilyn
She told me I was dope — no heroin
Power make a nigga show his arrogance
Let’s break it down — bring the barrels in
Hook
Album
The Meters – Rejuvenation
