[Lyric] Toast Freestyle Runaway Remix/Kanye Diss (Jim Jones)

[Intro: Jim Jones]
People might hear this and they might take it the wrong way
That's what people do
Like I give a fuck
They gonna think we starting trouble like usual
But we just viewing our opinion
Some people might get offended
I ain't trying to ruffle nobody feathers
But you niggas ain't gonna do shit

[Verse 1: Jim Jones]
Now, I'm always flying, always driving something new
And it makes me cry for half the shit that I've been through
So gifted back then when it came to selling the coke
So now we pop rose every night just to make a toast

[Hook: Sen City]
Let's have a toast for the pushers
Let's make a toast to the strippers
To the connects when we re-up
Knocking points off when we meet up
Let's have a toast to the new Porsche
The one you bitches in when we murk off
Baby, I got a plan
I'mma need you to cook a thousand grams
[Verse 2: Cam'ron]
I fuck with hoes that do check scams
And pop E pills, yeah, call 'em X-Clan
So I tell 'em, "Vanglorious"
'Elz Neo, the One; Cam's Morpheus
Dipset, yeah, you know who's scorching this
All of these kids should open a damn orphanage
What up Jetlag? What up Sin City?
Killers first, Killa first; niggas been pretty
And Kanye, you a sucker nigga
Dis Dame, so my attitude is "fuck a nigga"
Sucking Jigga, how you gonna live with that?
Took your beat — now, come get it back
Fuck what Mama say, whip color is marmalade
Modern-day Wilt Chamberlain, hoes andale
Yeah Malibu, boo, but it's Dom today
Shout to Weeso coming home, Tone, John, and Dre, ay

[Verse 3: Jim Jones]
And half these rap niggas still living a facade
Mention my name and I'll be thinking that they hard
But catch them out of bounds, and they ain't really like that
Catch us out of town, and we be living like that
Spent thirty thou, but we 'bout it on the flight back
Ash call Yandy, one show and get it right back
Think about the strip where I used to spend nights at
Spent nights on blocks where niggas lost they life at
Some got shot up, hospital, went right back
To the same block where they could have lost their life at
Damn, and shout out to my nigga Zoe
He used to laugh when he'd hear me say, "Give 'em more"
Miami nights at the club, jumping in the V
You know the rich get richer, hungry never eat
But fuck that, nigga, I'mma need a plate of chow
No fuck that, nigga, I'mma need a plate of Chow's
Last whip I bought, that's a hard ninety thou'
I'm married to the game and didn't say my vows, ow
[Outro: Jim Jones]
I ain't say my grace, neither
Bow your head, don't be disrespectful
Like I was saying before, you might not understand this
You might not figure this out
We on a different side of the thing
Just lift your glasses up
Put your bottles in the sky
Let's have a toast for this money we've been getting
Let's have a toast for niggas getting back together, real niggas
A toast to the haters, because without you there would be no me, nigga
You smell me?
Ain't nobody pressed they luck, we still on deck, fucker
You know what we do
We fly high and die hard, motherfucker
Anything less is uncivilized