The Jacka - Love How It Feels lyrics

[Jacka] Let's go I come through b**h With my muthaf**in' n**s And I couldn't give a f** By how you hoes feel Dip through with the steel All in a b**h's face Put my sticker on her a** Tell her let a n***a pa** At the summer jam With my backstage pa** Bought 'em from the base So we thuggin' on the gra** Watchin' time pa** Cuz I'm waitin' on the real sh** Performin' at the after party Sold when you see a mix Scream real loud b**h Like your real proud A G got tossed in the crowd Then I got lost in the cloud In the Benz With my n***a Twin Honkin' at her and her friends Watchin' her, watch the rims I bet they wanna hop in Even though they on dubs Too love what a thug do I know you got your bread right Let's see if your head right In the traffic in the middle of the night [Chorus x4] Do you love what you feel In love with you [Husalah] Real gangsta Yo, uh, yo Real gangstas everywhere Smokin' rope in the alley Just don't care Swangin' eights in the alley The Hus long here All the hoes on my dick I got to be there But I'd rather hang out And hustle all year Cuz the paper don't stop The block is on pop It's the dope game, c**aine Locced out to the brain Give sh** 'bout a b**h Silly with the chop man I'd rather hang Wit my n***as on the drug spot Don't talk on a snitch when his gun pop 1 double O duece 3 n***as gettin' packed in a row 'fo deep Movin' on Fourth Street Yeah ho, check out my sh** I couldn't give a sh** about A sh**ty haired b**h Tossed up, purssed s*ut Tryin' to get rich Slide my sh** down a [?] and burned Gone on a b**h Gettin' dope-fiend dumb n***a gone off this sh** And I don't pop pills I pop n***as with the clip You f*ggot a** n***a What are you smokin'? I know to dip hard To the knock I'm yokin' Like what All my murder dub n**s in Oakland And my Hunter's Point hustlas Keep the chapper smokin' Gave a kid up out my low-life, gangsta, hustlas All you child a** turkey I don't f** wit s**as Havin' fun like it's '81 The hoes love the way My perm hang in the sun I'm outtie 5 G [Chorus x4] [Jacka] What up b**h, yeah that's me You a model from L.A. But you couldn't believe All the sh** that you seen When you came to my house Thought it was a hard co*k Till you seen it float out Rob sittin' on the leather couch Lookin' like Bob Smokin' more than a ounce Close the door Took a trip upstairs Got s**ed on the floor Then I called her a who*e And I spend way more Than your pops can afford So get the f** out for real You punk b**h And I ain't nothin' like Any of the n***as you f** wit Just ask Boo James That's my DJ, he'll tell ya Ain't nothin' worse than a failure So get your sh** together Punk n***as tryin' to send 'em And see what's in 'em And every love that I drop On a chick is venom I got b**hes that s** way more Than them b**hes that s** the floor on your tank That's so real I better paint a picture in your brain You must be lame if you can't [echoes out] [Chorus x4]