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June Luva
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It's a New Day
f/ JoJo Pellegrino
[Intro：June Luva (JoJo Pellegrino)]
You better run you fucking faggot
I'mma pop ya muthafucking top when I catch you, boy
(Oh, June June, June June, get over here
What's the problem? You making a scene in front of the store)
He owes me fucking 50 dollars (the guy owes you fifty...
You gonna risk your fiend to kill him? Look at this way, babe
You say the guy owes you 50 beans...
50 beans you got that jerk off out of your life forever, huh?
See what I'm saying?) You right, man, you right (Good, good
Now beat it, you bothering me, but ey, let me get that piece
Before you get out of here, hah..) Hell no, paisan, I ain't giving you shit
[June Luva]
I, woke up around six o'clock in the morning
I gave myself a stretch up, a morning yawning
Went to the bathroom to wash up
Had some soap in my face and my hands up on the cut
I said uh, mirror mirror on the wall
Who is the thuggest of them all
There was a rumble stumble, five minutes had lasted
The mirror said 'you are, you conceited bastard'
True, he didn't have nothing else to say
So I washed off my face and grabbed the AK
Then blaow, ran out the door quickly
Made a sign of the cross, may the lord be with me
Niggas is low down and shifty
And way before Jay said it, I was screaming come and get me
This gun is so heavy, I got it stashed in the laundry bag
In the back of the trunk of my gold Chevy
Problems, I don't worry, cuz when I pull that big boy out
It'll turn your ass into a boy scout
Begging and pleading sweet Jesus
Telling them niggas that you with to get low, before he sees us
Ain't no escaping automatic death
So you can keep running and running but soon you'll run out of breath
That's when I creep on you, like ay, you need some help, cuz?
And put the barrel to ya chest, play the mail fuzz
[Chorus: Pharrell sample]
God damn, it's a new day
God damn, but this nigga want his money
Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh
[June Luva]
Crowded blocks on your avenue, my New York City attitude
A sunny straight to yo hood, to splatter you
Ain't no talking about it, I'm never walking without it
Sixteen shells'll drop niggas, don't ever doubt it
Leaving fools where they contemplated, before they even react
Some stomach shots'll leave 'em constipated
The king of the streets is finally made it, them other dudes is imposters
Fascinated with movies by mobsters
You can keep ya shrimp and lobsters, I ain't no seafood lover
I'm a calientele man myself
Spanish mami in the kitchen reach for beans on the shelf
That's when I, lift up her tatty, and let her know that I'm ready
Insert my dick to clit, clip to gun
Key to ignitions, of the finest cars that run
Oh, son, I'm sick with it, my flow's water like Niagera
And ya'll other dickheads need Viagra, what
[Chorus]
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