..Killa, Jones, Jones, Let's Go are [Cam'Ron] Clowns don't come around, pound pounds i pump in town Do like House of Pain, Kriss Kross, jump around Jumpin' down, stuntin style, over those I polly Then merk-o from squalie, ducati and Roberto Cavali mami We feelin' them scoobies, you stealin' them gucci's booby Get it right, its Emilio Pucci, hoochie (hoochie) Write for sci-fi, i'll be pipin' five pies, the cat went like the nine lives Ten halves, five pies, ten cars, five drives, ten bars, fi-fi That's fifty-five thou, sha-na-na, bye bye My fittings touched tailored, joined by Chuck Taylors On the yacht with glocks, we sum thug sailors You drinkin' old gold, rockin that old gold We in rose gold, at the Rose Bowl Send you a bowl of roses, we dun sold souls Slow toes, im so cold, my dough folds Killa! [Chorus: Jim Jones] So get your parachute, and row your boat nigga Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high We fly high, like bo! Bo! bo! Now your row your boat nigga, and get your parachute Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high Bo! Bo! and fly high like Bo! Bo! [Jim] So on this road to success, I grew up in the boat o'y'all Gettin closed by the jets I learned my code from the set, I took my oath to the death I risked the quarter to bing, I bet this forty a ring Cams from the 40th wing, the westside of harlem And rat roach infested, them black po's in vests's They stack most impressive, ride through Tana's town Thats where them grams be found, breeze through the broadway side And where they always reside, and so much raw yay, You know all them boys be outside With them sirens and guns, all the noise be outside, And yes we scour the slums You know our toys be outside, co-co boy to ride, Five-hundred thou on the block the ones when we ride on the block, pumpin them bow's for the rocks Look i came up from that, cookin' that came from crack New boys shinin' man, New York's ryder man, look how I got'em Damn! [Chorus: Jim Jones] So get your parachute, and row your boat nigga Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high We fly high, like bo! Bo! bo! Now your row your boat nigga, and get your parachute Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high Bo! Bo! and fly high like Bo! Bo! [Juelz Santana] I'm a, boy shotta, born poppa, y'all liars, y'all notta I squeeze more fire, call coppers, squalie! Hear that, pumper squeeze, yeah that, pumper be Shoved in your mouth for talkin' all the f**k-a-ree We move with the tune boy, we shoot'em and move boy Yes you could say we are the Rudest of rude boys Move that, do that, juke that girl, who dat who dat who dat girl I wanna meet her, i wanna see her, i wanna skeet skeet I wanna juice that girl Grippin good, pimpin good, livin' good, shit is good, test me, lets see I wish a nigga would (aye) Y'all kids is a waste, when i spark clips is a waste When alcoholics spit in your face, quick get a tatse Nigga i ride high, drive high, fly high, sky high, high high i'm high So high, so fly, float by, oh why, oh my, and i dont know why Whoaa... [Chorus: Jim Jones] So get your parachute, and row your boat nigga Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high We fly high, like bo! Bo! bo! Now your row your boat nigga, and get your parachute Signal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly high Bo! Bo! and fly high like Bo! Bo!