Jim Jones & Harry Fraud – “Aunt Viola” (ft. Dave East & Trav)

Jim Jones & Harry Fraud - Aunt Viola (ft. Dave East & Trav) (prod. Harry Fraud)

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Jim Jones & Harry Fraud collaborate on “Aunt Viola” featuring Dave East & Trav. Listen, stream, buy, read the lyrics, mp3 download the song produced by Harry Fraud.

Jim Jones & Harry Fraud Aunt Viola
Jim Jones & Harry Fraud Aunt Viola

Jim Jones is preparing for a hot year. The rapper has a few collaborative projects in the cut this year, starting with his latest offering with Harry Fraud. Though initially teased for a Christmas release, the project arrived in its entirety on Friday following a string of singles including the French Montana-assisted, “Bada Bing.”

The project is stacked with some solid collaborations. Jones connects with Belly On “Fucked Up” while Curren$y and Jay Worth pops up on “Say A Prayer.” Fraud and Jones make that Harlem connection with Dave East and Trav on “Aunt Viola.” With Trav on the hook, East and Jones reflect on their rough upbringing and the circumstances of their environment that pushed them towards the streets.

Jim Jones & Harry Fraud – Aunt Viola (ft. Dave East & Trav) (prod. Harry Fraud)

Lyrics

[Intro]
Uh
One two, one two
(La música de Harry Fraud)

[Verse 1: Jim Jones]
My Aunt Vi said, “There’s a bit of Christ in all of us” (Amen)
She also said, “There’s a time that Christ is gon’ call on us” (Pray for us)
I figure ’til that time come, we gon’ live life and ball it up
My man said, “Lemme hold somethin’,” drop it on the floor, ball it up, yeah
Raid came, we flushed so much coke, we clog ya toilet up (Flush)
When grandma died, damn, I had turned to alcoholic, but (I miss you, mama)
Slowly but surely, I found my way back (Facts)
Like that time I lost a key, I had to bounce my way back
I’m talkin’ twenty-eight 28’s, I had to ounce my way back (What you know ’bout that?)
Shit, ten grams of powder, I made an ounce of straight crack (A lot of baking soda)
I know you probably sayin’ these war stories are repetitious (But they’re the truth)
But never forget that my intellect is vicious
I sat on cigarettes in the ocean just to intercept the fishes (Facts)
Love my niggas way too much to go and spend my check on bitches
Melly lifted his shirt and then he showed me his exit stitches (I miss you, nigga)
When you get married to the game, they never give you no wedding pictures (Woo)
So when I’m reflectin’ my past, it’s only to better your future (You hear that?)
Versace all black and the back, the head of Medusa (Drippin’)
I love shoppin’ at Saks, but the prices is better with boosters (Woo)
We was up at the crack of dawn, but we ain’t hear no echoin’ roosters
I make a brick have a baby like the doctor just induced her (Uh-huh)
Shit, it’s bad enough on the block with the opps and the cops that’ll shoot ya (Boom, boom, boom)
I’m out of breath
I can’t breathe like a knee is on my neck
Mothafucka, what the B’s? Uh

[Chorus: Trav]
Faceshot left ’em on the pavement
They should’ve told the young boy to pay
Mmm, we gon’ pay his bills for his mama cable
You must ain’t read the Bible, what Cain did to Abel
Out here in the jungle where no one can save you
You gon’ wait your turn or you gon’ turn the tables
A made nigga, ain’t nobody made you (Nobody made you)
A hood nigga, I’m forever grateful (Forever grateful)

[Verse 2: Dave East]
Headshot, make it sad to mention
A hundred grams behind Manhattan Center
We sendin’ hits while niggas havin’ dinner
Only stamp the niggas that be actually with us
High off dope, the cameras help me back the Benz up
Thirty thousand dollars in a grocery bag
Look at niggas’ faces and I know they mad
I was in the field without no shoulder pads
My plug out in Utah, had the Jazz, called ’em Ostertag
When they double team you, you supposed to pass
A hundred plates in the rental, I’m on my way to Baltimore
I don’t trust these niggas, not one of ’em have I saw before
Mami said she wish that I would call her more
Mazza did the Audemars
They ain’t put in no pain, what the fuck did you call ’em for?
Trapped in the projects, yeah, we all was bored
Lookin’ for somethin’ that we could all afford
They grab you, why you talkin’ for?
Champagne poppin’ like it’s New Year’s
Youngins wildin’ out ’cause it’s really nothin’ to do here
Press you, nigga, you new here

[Chorus: Trav]
Faceshot left ’em on the pavement
They should’ve told the young boy to pay
Mmm, we gon’ pay his bills for his mama cable
You must ain’t read the Bible, what Cain did to Abel
Out here in the jungle where no one can save you
You gon’ wait your turn or you gon’ turn the tables
A made nigga, ain’t nobody made you (Nobody made you)
A hood nigga, I’m forever grateful (Forever grateful)

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