1 2 3 - Lyrics - Lost Boyz

Title: 1 2 3
Artist: Lost Boyz
Composer(s): Raymond Rogers, Vern Smith

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Lyric:
1, 2, 3 thousand problems
1, 2, 3 thousand problems
1, 2, 3 thousand problems
1, 2, 3 thousand problems

It's a cool summer night
My 4 4's on my waist, gotta half a stick of dynamite
Got some beef with some niggaz across town
Keep my man to the ground, I gotta shut it down

They pull up on my block, I'm in my little brown hooptie
So they guess I want the white rock
They walk close towards my ride
Surprise motherfucker, it's a handful of South side

1, 2, 3 thousand problems
1, 2, 3 thousand problems

I put two to his head, I jumped on the southern state
Then I'm rushin' out to Hempstead
One down and one to go, I heard the next nigga's on
And he's gotten a ball of dough

I kick in the nigga's door
I sat the nigga in the door with my nickel plated fo', fo'
And word up that shit is soft
The way this nigga hit the floor when the freaky got raw

Some bitch tried to burst but I shot her in the back
Aiy yo, Money, where your stash at?
He took me back inside this room
Beside the safe full of G's, he had mad bags of booze

1, 2, 3, thousand problems
1, 2, 3, thousand problems
1, 2, 3, thousand problems
1, 2, 3, thousand problems

A lot to do
I call up the underground
let me speak to that nigga Lu
He said, "Taliq, whats up my man?"

I got this nigga locked down wit my joint to his gun
And word up he got a mail press
Aiy yo, Money, what's this address?
1, 2, 45, Boulevard Queens and I tell my man, they try to caravan

Understand, I'm on a mission
And just be nice to pack some extra ammunition
And get some phillies from the store
And park the van on the corner and you're comin' through the side door

1, 2, 3, thousand problems
1, 2, 3, thousand problems
1, 2, 3, thousand problems
1, 2, 3, thousand problems

They get robbed, they wanna go
Money, beggin' and repeatin', they don't want trouble
I told that Lu to move the chairs
Aiy yo cheeks, help me take this damn bitch down the stairs
I come back up for the session, money still tied the fuck up confessin'

I blow some smoke into his eyes
"Here nigga, take two more puff before you die"
Yo, I stood up, about faced him and yo lost boys waste him
Aiy yo queens boys waste him and yo south side waste him

1, 2, 3, thousand problems
1, 2, 3, thousand problems
1, 2, 3, thousand problems
1, 2, 3, thousand problems

It's 3 o'clock in the morn, shit is on motherfuckers, shit is on
Yeah, yeah, I gotta get this nigga, Shawn
I'm drivin' in a stolen car with no motherfuckin' lights on
I heard, Shawn got crazy ends
But before I do this thing, I go and pick up my best friends

A 40 ounce and let the fields right
I got to see the boy hillside
Understand, now he's in court
I roll all my windows down, pull my shit on the corner

But I still bein' sneaky 'cause I'm freaky, Taliq, I'm freaky, Taliq
But right now I got beef wit this nigga named Shawn
Shit is on, word is bond, money is gone
He's with his bitch, in bed

I pull out my 44, and I don't wanna do his head
'Cause this shit is too easy
Even though he can go in one squeeze, G, it's it's it's crazy
Mr.B's LB's, a people 1, 2, 3, 3, thousand problems

1, 2, 3, thousand problems
1, 2, 3, thousand problems
1, 2, 3, thousand problems
1, 2, 3, thousand problems

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49d3f6905884f97c95d6ebc5576747c9

1st &Amp; 10 (Back For The First Time Album) - Lyrics - Back For The First Time - Ludacris

Title: 1st &Amp; 10 (Back For The First Time Album)
Album: Back For The First Time
Artist: Ludacris
Composer(s): Arbie Wilson, Michael Richard Bull, Christopher Bridges, Shondrae Crawford, Jean Paul Maunick, Bobbie Sandmanie

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Lyric:
Click, click, click, click
Yeah, click, click
DTP nigga

I started with ten mack tens, ten clips and ten pens
Got ten times richer in the span of ten years
Bitch I'm ten times two on a scale of one to ten
I'll battle ten crews with the strength of ten men

At nine, I was into crime, sex, and drugs
Pushin' an '89 Box Chevy sittin' on dubs
Nine thugs all ski masks, black suited with gloves
Break the imprinted chest with at least nine slugs

Man I ate eight clips with eight chicks watching eight flicks
You's 8-6 if you ate pussy with fake lips
I figure eight when my mind goes in circles
Did I Do That or was it Mystikal and Urkel?

On to seven AK-47, so what?
I got seven hoes stoppin' by at seven to fuck
Then put seven in your chest seven days a week
And add a foot for good measure you'll be seven feet deep

It goes 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4
3, 2 murder, 1 lyrics at your door
These DTP niggas come ready for war
So don't start the fucking game if you won't settle the score

I got six hoes distributing on six blocks
It's blistering from cops tryna stop these rocks from distributing
Six gun shots left, one pint of Vodka before this pimp will hit
It's street justice, now it's six hole in your casket

Give me a high five and I'll put that nine lower than your esophagus
Then smack you so hard that you have to come with 2Pacalypse
Five stars, twenty rims, five cars
I'd add more but I had to subtract one from five bars

I got four forty-fours on a rip on the floor
For you niggas talkin' shit, I'm finish, so you what for
I did four months in the bing instead of a Hearst
Now it's DTP for life, dog for better or worse

I fuck three best friends, ran on all three the same game
In these streets I'm a murderer, I got three alias names
I'm three times insane, three shots will cave your brain
On three fire and ready, cock back and aim

It goes 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4
3, 2 murder, 1 lyrics at your door
These DTP niggas come ready for war
So don't start the fucking game if you won't settle the score

I'm packing two twenty-twos and twice the ammunition
But at Friday the 13th, what's up now superstition?
I'm a two timer with a couple of twins, double jeopardy
With a pair of two deuces in the two seater Benz

I got one motto get dough till your gone
I got one main lady the rest of y'all is hoes
I'm Numero Uno with one more before I go
If you think I ain't the one bitch you too slow

And all you zero ass niggas ain't nothin' to me
Because I chop up O's, move dro', and chop keys
0-6 is my clique along with PC
Pretty Rick, Calil, V-Slim and Shondrez

It goes 1 to 10 and 10 to 1
Ludacris, Fake Feeze and that nigga I-Twain
It goes 1 to 10 and 10 to 1
Ludacris, Fake Feeze and that nigga I-Twain

It goes 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4
3, 2 murder, 1 lyrics at your door
These DTP niggas come ready for war
So don't start the fucking game if you won't settle the score

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d78716c9cd47d5399c1dc2ac776f08f1

Ammunition - Lyrics - Maladjusted - Morrissey

Title: Ammunition
Album: Maladjusted
Artist: Morrissey
Composer(s): Steven Morrissey, Martin James Boorer

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Lyric:
I know these roads
Each ridge and narrow bridge
Each Chevron enticing me on
Each warning sign, I take in my stride

I don't need more ammunition
I've got more than I can spend
I don't dwell on things I'm missing
I'm just pleased with the things I've found

I know these roads
An old hand understands
Above all, I know what's
Expected of me now, veering cliff wards

I don't need more ammunition
I've got more than I can spend
I don't dwell on things I'm missing
I'm just pleased with the things I've found
With the things I've found, with the things I've found, I've found

I've been crying
It comes back on these salient days
And it stays and it says
"We've never really been away"

I don't need more ammunition
I've got more than I can spend
I don't think of who I'm missing
I've got no space and no time in my life anymore
No space or time in my life anymore for revenge

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f59ed742b1c162db43f4a8e8a18c7c47

13 X Forever - Lyrics - Garbage

Title: 13 X Forever
Artist: Garbage
Composer(s): Douglas Elwin Erickson, Steve W Marker, Bryan David Vig, Shirley Ann Manson

Lyric:
Thirteen times you with my karma
And thirteen times I fucked up your dogma
You taught me to hate
You taught me to crawl

You raised your hand as you raised the bottle
You knock me down but it made me stronger
The harder you hit
The harder you fall

And this one is for my mother
What will I do without her
Don't look back
Don't even bother

And this one is for the father
Who loves his little daughter
Thought I am
Don't even bother

You can freak out about me
But you'd lose your mind without me
You thought you could see right through me
But it made no difference to me
Anyway, anyway

A free reign gave you ammunition
To play the game and other women
And something just snapped
And cracked in my brain

A thirteen times I sucked up inside me
The different ways that you tried to harm me
You did it once
You'll do it again

And this one is for my sister
You dare to denigrate her
Don't look back
Don't even bother

And this one's for my lover
The one who had to suffer
Thought I am
Don't even bother

You can freak out about me
But you'd lose your mind without me
You thought you could see right through me
But it made no difference to me
Anyway, anyway, anyway, anyway

Thirteen times
(One)
Thirteen times
(Two)
Thirteen times
(Three)
Thirteen times
(Four)

Thirteen times
(Five)
Thirteen times
(Six)
Thirteen times
(Seven)
Thirteen times
(Eight)

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e04c51081c2000dd809f82c02fff1b6c

Demolition Lovers - Lyrics - I Brought You My Bullets You Brought Me Your Love - My Chemical Romance

Title: Demolition Lovers
Album: I Brought You My Bullets You Brought Me Your Love
Artist: My Chemical Romance
Composer(s): Frank Iero, Raymond Toro, Matt Pellisier, Gerard Way, Mikey Way

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Lyric:
Hand in mine, into your icy blues
And then I'd say to you, we could take to the highway
With this trunk of ammunition too
I'd end my days with you in a hail of bullets

I'm trying, I'm trying
To let you know just how much you mean to me
And after all the, all the things
We put each other through and

I would drive on to the end with you
A liquor store or two keeps the gas tank full
And I feel like there's nothing left to do
But prove myself to you and we'll keep it running

But this time, I mean it
I'll let you know just how much you mean to me
As snow falls on desert sky
Until the end of everything

I'm trying, I'm trying
To let you know how much you mean
As days fade, and nights grow
And we go cold

Until the end, until this pool of blood
Until this, I mean this, I mean this
Until the end of

I'm trying, I'm trying
To let you know, how much you mean
As days fade, and nights grow
And we go cold

But this time, we'll show them
We'll show them all how much we mean
As snow falls on desert sky
Until the end of every

All we are, all we are
Is bullets I mean this
All we are, all we are
Is bullets I mean this

All we are, all we are
Is bullets I mean this
All we are, all we are
Is bullets I mean this

As lead rains, pass on through our phantoms
Forever, forever
Like scarecrows that fuel this flame on burning
Forever, and ever

Know how much I want to show you, you're the only one
Like a bed of roses, there's a dozen reasons in this gun

And as we're falling down, and in this pool of blood
And as we're touching hands, and as we're falling down
And in this pool of blood, and as we're falling down
I'll see your eyes, and in this pool of blood
I'll meet your eyes, I mean this forever

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cc4a49d2e6dcf103101650043bf1b0bd

Devil'S Child - Lyrics - Metal Works '73-'93 - Judas Priest

Title: Devil'S Child
Album: Metal Works '73-'93
Artist: Judas Priest
Composer(s): Robert Halford, Glenn Tipton, Kenneth Downing

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Lyric:
Hypnotize me, mesmerize me
Feel my willpower slip
Light my fire with cold desire
Losing all my grip

Eat my diamonds
Drinking all my gin
Feast your eyes on
A whole lotta sin

Oh no, you're so damned wicked
You got me by the throat
Oh no, gotcha claws stuck in me
You never let me go

I believe you're the devil
I believe you're the devil's child
I believe you're the devil
I believe you're the devil's child

Took my dreams and now it's seems
You're nothing but a liar
Smash and grab at all I had
Build my funeral pyre

Stop pretendin'
Got me growin' old
Your tormentin' is
Fit to snap my soul

Oh no, you're so damned wicked
You got me by the throat
Oh no, gotcha claws stuck in me
You never let me go

I believe you're the devil
I believe you're the devil's child
I believe you're the devil
I believe you're the devil's child

You took my heart and left it blown to smithereens
I gave my body as a slave
You cut my flesh and drank my blood that poured in streams
I'm left here broken and ashamed

Goin' under, hear the thunder
Death defying grace
Your condition breeds ammunition
Shoots me in the face

Vicious talkin'
Stabs me like a knife
Scratched and bruised, so abused
I'm a human sacrifice

Oh no, you're so damned wicked
You got me by the throat
Oh no, you gotcha claws stuck in me
You never let me go

I believe you're the devil
I believe you're the devil's child
I believe you're the devil
I believe you're the devil's child

I believe you're the devil
I believe you're the devil's child
I believe you're the devil
I believe you're the devil's child

I believe you're the devil
I believe you're the devil's child
I believe you're the devil
I believe you're the devil's child
I can't stand any any anymore

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5f98bce4e8129033a01c2b47ce359174

Bedlam - Lyrics - Delivery Man - Elvis Costello

Title: Bedlam
Album: Delivery Man
Artist: Elvis Costello
Composer(s): Elvis Costello

Lyric:
I've got this phosphorescent portrait
Of gentle Jesus meek and mild
I've got this harlot that I'm stuck with
Carrying another man's child

The solitary star announcing vacancy
Burnt out as we arrived
They'd throw us back across the border
If they knew that we survived

And they were surprised to see us
So they greeted us with palms
They asked for ammunition acts
Of contrition and small alms

I might recite a small prayer if I ever said them
I lay down on an iron frame and found myself in Bedlam
I wish that I could take something for drowning out the noise
Wailing echoes down the corridors

I've got this imaginary radio
And I'm punching up the dial
I've got the AC trained on the TV
So it won't blow up in my eye

And everything that I thought fanciful
And mocked as too extreme
Must be family entertainment here
In the strange land of my dreams

And I'm practicing my likeness
Of St. Francis of Assisi
For if I hold my hand outstretched
A little bird comes to me

And I might recite a small prayer if I ever said them
I lay down on an iron frame and found myself in Bedlam
Escaping from the fingers that were stretching through the bars
Wailing echoes down the corridors

The player piano picks out 'Life goes on'
The ring tone rang out 'Jerusalem'
Into the pit of sadness where the rank of wretched plunge
We've buried all the innocents we must bury revenge

They've got this scared and decorated girl
Strapped to the steel trunk of a Mustang
And then they drove her down a cypress grove
Where traitors hang and stars still spangle

They dangled flags and other rags
Along a colored thread of twine
They dragged that bruised and purple heart
Along the road to Palestine

Someone went off muttering
He mentioned thirty pieces
Easter saw a slaughtering
Each wrapped in bloodstained fleeces

My thoughts returned to vengeance
But I put up no resistance
Though it seemed a long way from my home
It really was no distance

And I might recite a small prayer if I ever said them
I lay down on an iron frame and found myself in Bedlam
Bowing like an actor acknowledging applause
Playing the crusader who was conquering the Mars
And he knew the consequences but he won't accept the cause
Wailing echoes down the corridors

Feel it, feel it

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50d28ed08a3226364ca6c644b34b61a7

Extortion - Lyrics - Hell On Earth - Mobb Deep

Title: Extortion
Album: Hell On Earth
Artist: Mobb Deep
Composer(s): Albert Johnson, Kejuan Muchita, Clifford Smith

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Lyric:
Yeah, time to let these niggaz know, son
Niggaz don't even wanna motherfuckin' understand
Know what I'm sayin'? Time to hit 'em with the third degree
Yeah, you know the QBC here to drop a G, yo

Look into the eyes, 'True lies', your whole click despise
Especially me, H A V O C, don't want your chick
'Cuz she's burning third degree, plus you snitchin', you ain't got
No ties on me, I keep it strong, while you scream word is bond

Lying through your teeth, swearing on your first born
Your word is weak, go hold a wake in this
Hit you up quick strictly shit that I'm livin' in
You walk a line that's thin, you religious, well you sin
Fuckin' with the Mobb, Infamous to the end

I hold a nine Ruger with an infa-spot disc
Red dot right at your face, so set sail or rock it
And kept drivin', pull off like the Indy 5 G
In a four time Ford truck with Speed

Like the motion picture, this nigga 'Gone with the wind'
My crime work, ninja style shit was did
And got away with, escaped it, the Jakes from tracing
Anything that lead to the source, you know the boss

Of the Mobb killing is like an 'Unsolved mystery'
Puzzling, nobody knows, it's all history
Madness amongst me, I frequently have to get lovely
Never fails it's always something

No rest, daily gotta rock my vest, I shoot at your best man
Yeah your MVP, he played the front line, got struck down immediately
I wave a Mobb Deep flag, you hear the sound as it slaps
When heavy load my military hold ammunition

Far from animation, it's real live, you think not
My crew, changing New York, who taking your spot
I put the green light on your whole click, Island shit
Running through the hoe-house wilding, extorting

Extortion, hit that up, extortion, hit that up

Extortion is the key, I got the key for extortion
Spend your fortune, dead your shorty like abortion
Take precaution, Infamous laws enforced in
You married to the Mobb, kid take it then divorce it

'Cause I ain't got no time for them domestic disputes
If you scared, get a dog, don't got a click then recruit
You're weak troop, lost the tan in the mist
On your name my shit, take it like a man you little bitch

I blaze yo britches, P.L.O. extortion, you forcin'
The hand that rocks the cradle, caution before you enter
This Shaolin representer, carry thirty-six deadly shits
You fuckin' with, top contenders

Official to the bone gristle
It don't matter if you bust rhymes or bust pistols
Remember me, burn a nigga to a third degree
Don't act familiar, motherfuckers you ain't heard of me

Just peep the stee and the rap how it's supposed to be
Tap the pockets bag the goods like a grocery, we food-shoppin'
On top of that we hip-hoppin' and don't stoppin'
Out-of-state drawers-droppin', the panty-raiders

Slide on ya like gators, umped that stank bitch back out
And then played her but that ain't nothin', crossin' this dog walkin'
Native New York and Shaolin slang talkin', rap nigga
Mr. Freeze crowd shiver, What? Young, black and don't give a fuck
If the next crew get the scissor

Extortion, extortion, give that up kid, extortion

Bottom line, what the fuck you wanna do?
You eyin' me, at the same time I'm eyin' you, punk
Wanna pop the most junk
Be the same motherfucker with the most lumps

Chew on that shit, punk faggot
(Word up)
Burn his ass like a book of matches
(Yeah, that's just about it)
Under pressure like fat bitches

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aa4007b4577dbf9930fd0d48edb678ec

Forgive Them Father - Lyrics - Lauryn Hill

Title: Forgive Them Father
Artist: Lauryn Hill
Composer(s): Lauryn Hill, Tejunold Newton, Rasheem Pugh, Vada Nobles, Johari Newton

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Lyric:
Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those
That trespass against us
Although them again we will
Never, never, never trust

Dem noh know weh dem do
Dig out yuh yei while dem sticking like glue
Fling, skin, grin while dem plotting fah you
True, ah who?

Forgive them father for
They know not what they do
Forgive them father for
They know not what they do

Beware the false motives of others
Be careful of those who pretend to be brothers
And you never suppose it's those who are closest to you, to you

They say all the right things to gain their position
Then use your kindness as their ammunition
To shoot you down in the name of ambition, they do, oh

Forgive them father for
They know not what they do
Forgive them father for
They know not what they do

Why every Indian wanna be the chief?
Feed a man 'til he's full and he still want beef
Give me grief, try to thief off my piece
Walk you to the increase, I must decrease?

If I treat you kindly does it mean that I'm weak?
You hear me speak and think I won't take it to the streets
I know enough cats that don't turn the other cheek
But I try to keep it civilized like Menelik

And other African czars observing stars with war scars
Get yours in this capitalistic system
So many caught or got bought you can't list them
How you gonna idolize the missin'?

To survive is to stay alive in the face of opposition
Even when they comin' gunnin' I stand position
L's known the mission since conception
Let's free the people from deception
If you lookin' for the answers then you gotta ask the questions

And when I let go, my voice echoes through the ghetto
Sick of men trying to pull strings like Geppetto
Why black people always be the ones to settle
March through these streets like Soweto

Like Cain and Abel, Caesar and Brutus
Jesus and Judas, back stabbers do this

Forgive them father for
They know not what they do
Forgive them father for
They know not what they do

It took me a little while to discover
Wolves in sheep coats who pretend to be lovers
Men who lack conscience will even lie to themselves, to themselves

A friend once said and I found to be true
That, "Everyday people, they lie to God too
So what makes you think that they won't lie to you"

Forgive them father for
They know not what they do
Forgive them father for
They know not what they do

Forgive them, forgive them
Gwan like dem love while dem rip yuh to shreds
Trample pon yuh heart and lef yuh fi dead
Dem a yuh fren who yuh depen pon from way back when
But if yuh gi dem yuh back den yuh mus meet yuh end
Dem noh know wey dem do, dem noh know wey dem do
Dem no know, dem no know, dem no know
Dem no know, dem no know wey dem do

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5f0b1a1e2410ce5db35b7cc9d41eab70

Fuel - Lyrics - Tripping the Light Fantastic - Lit

Title: Fuel
Album: Tripping the Light Fantastic
Artist: Lit
Composer(s): Alan Jay Popoff, Allen Shellenberger, Jeremy Popoff, Kevin Baldes

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Lyric:
Look around and see who's watching?
What do they think? You're such a happening player
I don't do this for myself for my enjoyment
I only want to impress you

You're so amazing to me, how you know everyting
And you're just so cool it makes me sick
You give me ammunition, you are my gasoline
I hope you stick around 'cause you kill me, you fuel me

Tell me what I need to do, I'll change just for you
I'm just a stupid whore, I don't even listen to this kind of music
I only want to be famous, you're so fun to be with
And someone to be seen with I'm no one when you're not around

You're so amazing to me, how you know everyting
And you're just so cool it makes me sick
You give me ammunition, you are my gasoline
I hope you stick around 'cause you kill me, you fuel me

You're so amazing to me, how you know everyting
And you're just so cool it makes me sick
You give me ammunition, you are my gasoline
I hope you stick around 'cause you kill me, you fuel me

You're so amazing to me, how you know everyting
And you're just so cool it makes me sick
You give me ammunition, you are my gasoline
I hope you stick around 'cause you kill me, you fuel me

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e04a97746aea887904d56c0a69ab1aa7

Hip Hop - Lyrics - Black On Both Sides - Mos Def

Title: Hip Hop
Album: Black On Both Sides
Artist: Mos Def
Composer(s): Gabriel Jackson, Dante Beze, David Axelrod, Michael Axelrod, Joseph Kirkland

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Lyric:
You say one for the treble, two for the time
Come on, y'all let's rock this
You say one for the treble, two for the time
Come on

Speech is my hammer, bang the world into shape
Now let it fall
My restlessness is my nemesis
It's hard to really chill and sit still
Committed to page, I write rhymes
Sometimes won't finish for days

Scrutinize my literature, from the large to the miniature
I mathematically add minister, subtract the wack selector
Wheel it back, I'm feelin' that
Ha, ha, ha, from the core to the perimeter black
You know the motto, stay fluid even in staccato

Mos Def, full blooded, full throttle
Breathe deep inside the trunk hollow
There's the hum, young man where you from
Brooklyn number one
Native son, speakin' in the native tongue

I got my eyes on tomorrow, there it is
While you still try to follow where it is
I'm on the Ave where it lives and dies
Violently, silently, shine so vibrantly
That eyes squint to catch a glimpse
Embrace the bass with my dark ink fingertips

Used to speak the king's English
But caught a rash on my lips
So now my chat just like dis
Long range from the base line, switch
Move like an apparition
Float to the ground with ammunition
Chi, chi, chi, pow

Move from the gate, voice cued on your tape
Puttin' food on your plate, many crews can relate
Who choosin' your fate, yo, we went from pickin' cotton
To chain gang line choppin', to Be Boppin', to Hip Hoppin'
Blues people got the blue chip stock option
Invisible man, got the whole world watchin'

Where ya at? I'm high, low, east, west, all over your map
I'm gettin' big props, with this thing called hip hop
Where you can either get paid or get shot
When your product in stock the fair weather friends flock
When your chart position drop then the phone calls

Chill for a minute, let's see who else tops
Snatch your shelf spot, don't gas yourself ock
The industry just a better built cell block
A long way from the shell tops
And the bells that L rocked, rock, rock
Rock, rock, rock, rock, rock, rock
Rock, rock, rock, rock, rock

Hip Hop is prosecution evidence
The out of court settlement, ad space for liquor
Sick without benefits
Luxury tenements chokin' the skyline
It's low life gettin' tree top high

Here there's a back water remedy
Bitter and tender memory, A class E felony
Facin' the death penalty, hungh
Stimulant and sedative, original repetitive
Violently competitive, a school unaccredited

The break beats you get broken with
On time and inappropriate
Hip Hop went from sellin' crack to smokin' it
Medicine for loneliness
Remind me of Thelonius and Dizzy
Propers to B Boys gettin' busy

The war time snap shot
The workin' man's jack pot
A two dollar snack box
Sold beneath the crack spot
Olympic sponsor of the black glock

Gold medalist in the back shot
From the sovereign state of the have nots
Where farmers have trouble with cash crops, woo
It's all city like phase two, Hip Hop will simply amaze you
Craze you, pay you, do whatever you say do
But black, it can't save you

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bdcd57c825cc1051b609734c584d1732

Dungeon Master - Lyrics - Epmd

Title: Dungeon Master
Artist: Epmd
Composer(s): Erick Sermon, Parrish Smith, Angel Aguilar, Yasin Muhammedi

Lyric:
Yeah EPMD, yeah
Nocturnal, Nocturnal cats
A yo check it

Yo, Dungeon Master time to draw let's see who's faster
Too late blast him with five slugs from the ghetto blaster
You slow with yours, yours had to reach for the guard at the law
Card more gangsters on radar with the night vision
Green screen navy seals, all star marine mercenary in the mind field
Take you way down, underground, 'neath earth's surface
A hundred leeks, flat line

E Dub the mic killer, the off and oner , my jawa past willie
I'm higher than marijuana, my styles foreign, look at me
As a Guinesse, Vietnemes, a lad overseas, clockin' major G's
I tote 3 50's, 7's with the wooden handle in case of a scandal
Or a so called vandal and if I let off and he gets hit
And if you miss him, go home and light a candle

Yo ,with cyphers our tradition, then I'm a spill when I'm spittin'
This vocal ammunition
Yo, with cyphers our tradition, then I'm a spill when I'm speakin'
This vocal ammunition

Yo, I spit ferocious, here's another dosage
I'll capture your mind like hypnosis, so you should focus
On what hip hop mean to you, whether physical
Or in your spiritual rorm, liver than your black college dorm
Indecisive niggas swarm lets git it on
You know my motto, drinkin' cold on some cotoroto

Tall bottles until my legs wobble, blow your spot
Drink lots like Freddie Foxx, shits fully knocked
It's hotter than lava rocks, I'm gainin' interest like
When LL said, "Box" and Crush Groove
I freak the ill power move , kid I"m on fire

Flippin' on MC's like David Banner
Changing his back tire, admire, the raw in divorce
Cat's is played out like theater dogs, nothing for this
Hold you scoreless, Jersey reppin', flowin' with the legends
Using mics for weapons, studying all my lessons

So prepare for this paper run, I hit your cypher
Have your crew sayin', "We should of taped son"
Maverick, Top Gun, shootin' missiles
I prefer 40's over Cristal, I hit the path at the turn style
Nocturnals tactics is wild out like a T-Rex at Jurassic Park

Making music with my mouth like Biz Mark
Rougher than Tim's at Gal heart, check my street smarts
Plus credentials, microphones as untencils
Like spoons and forks, celebratin' pop the corks
Off the Moey if you felt me, know you, know me
EPMD and Nocturnal when you fuckin' call me

Yo with cyphers our tradition, then I'm a spill when I'm spittin'
This vocal ammunition
Yo with cyphers our tradition, then I'm a spill when I'm spittin'
This vocal ammunition

Yo with cyphers our tradition, then I'm a spill when I'm spittin'
This vocal ammunition
Yo with cyphers our tradition, then I'm a spill when I'm spittin'
This vocal ammunition

Yeah, yeah, Nocturnal son, Nocturnal, EPMD, you know
What's up? You know, what's up, you know what I'm saying?
This is how we do, reppin' for the crew,
Jersey fuckin' too, hell yeah, hell yeah

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99b3c391b00a5ab2b8ae78442b976479

Jamaica Mistaica - Lyrics - Jimmy Buffett

Title: Jamaica Mistaica
Artist: Jimmy Buffett
Composer(s): Jimmy Buffett, Roger Guth, Jim Mayer, Russ Ward, Peter Hagen Mayer

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
Some folks say that I've got the perfect life
Three swell kids, lots of toys and a lovely wife
I fly, I sail, I throw caution to the wind
Drift like a stratus cloud above the Carribean

But every now and then, the dragons come to call
Just when you least expect it you'll be dogin' cannon balls
I've seen too much not to stay in touch
With a world full of love and luck
I've got a big suspicion 'bout ammunition
I never forget to duck

Come back, come back, back to Jamaica
Don't you know we made a big mistaica
We'd be so sad if you told us goodbye
And we promise not to shoot you out of the sky

It was a beautiful day the kind you want to toast
We were tree top flyin' movin' west along the coast
Then we landed in the water, just about my favorite thrill
When some asshole started firing as we taxied to Negril

Just about to lose my temper as I endeavored to explain
We had only come for chicken we were not a ganja plane
Well you should have seen their faces when they finally realized
We were not some coked up cowboys sporting guns and alibis

Come back, come back, back to Jamaica
Don't you know we made a big mistaica
We'd be so sad if you told us goodbye
And we promise not to shoot you out of the sky

They shot from the lighthouse
They shot from the highway
They shot from the top of the cliff
They had all gone haywire
We're catchin' fire and there wasn't even a spiff

Well the word got out all over the island
Friends, strangers, they were all apologizin'
Some thought me crazy for being way too nice
But it's just another shitty day in paradise

Come back, come back, back to Jamaica
Don't you know we made a big mistaica
We'd be so sad if you told us goodbye
And we promise not to shoot you out of the sky

Come back, come back, back to Jamaica
Don't you know we made a big mistaica
We'd be so sad if you told us goodbye
And we promise not to shoot you
Promise not to shoot you
Promise not to shoot you out of the sky

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852d55e4a11253e0033cac23cbf11d85

It Doesn'T Have To Be - Lyrics - POP! 20 Hits - Erasure

Title: It Doesn'T Have To Be
Album: POP! 20 Hits
Artist: Erasure
Composer(s): Andy Bell, Vince Clarke

Lyric:
One against one, one against one
One against one, one against one
One against one, one against one
One against one, one against one
One against one

Alava mo ja na me me
Limbaniango, limbaniago
Zimbabwe abo naga na me me
Limbaniango, limbaniago

Alava mo ja na me me
Limbaniango, limbaniago
Zimbabwe abo naga na me me
Limbaniango, limbaniago

One against one, one against one
One against one, one against one

You are one side
And I am on the other
Are we divided?

You are one side
I am on the other
Are we divided?
Why can't we live together?

There are no rights
This isn't your decision
We need to talk of changing things
But no one wants to listen

It doesn't have to be like that
It doesn't have to be like that
It doesn't have to be like that

A heart on the inside
The same as any other
Are we divided?
Someone always has to suffer

We are broken
There's no one left to change it
Is that the way it has to be?
Why can't we rearrange it?

It doesn't have to be like that
(One against one)
It doesn't have to be like that
(One against one)
It doesn't have to be like that

Alava mo ja na me me
Limbaniango, limbaniago
Zimbabwe abo naga na me me
Limbaniango, limbaniago

Alava mo ja na me me
Limbaniango, limbaniago
Zimbabwe abo naga na me me
Limbaniango, limbaniago

What is the secret
In calling me a brother?
Are we divided?
Always one against the other

We are strong now
Put down the ammunition
For what we know is right
Is gonna breakdown this division

It doesn't have to be like that
(One against one)
It doesn't have to be like that
(One against one)

It doesn't have to be like that
(One against one, one against one)
(One against one, one against one)
It doesn't have to be like that
(One against one, one against one)
(One against one, one against one)

(One against one, one against one)
(One against one, one against one)
It doesn't have to be like that
(One against one, one against one)
(One against one, one against one)
It doesn't have to be like that

(One against one, one against one)
(One against one, one against one)
It doesn't have to be like that
(One against one, one against one)
It doesn't have to be like that

You are one side
And I am on the other
Are we divided?

One against one, one against one

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2db2a4f1068bfe883377ffe5a79b8b93

Number One Spot - Lyrics - Red Light District - Ludacris

Title: Number One Spot
Album: Red Light District
Artist: Ludacris
Composer(s): Quincy Jones, Christopher Bridges

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
Yeah baby yeah

Back again
(That's right)
Luda
(Feel this)
It gets meaner and meaner each time baby
Feelin' real good too
(Holla at 'em man)
What up Uncle Face?

I'm a bull in this industry man
(Tell 'em)
Some would rather run down and get one cow
I think I'd rather walk down and get 'em all
You know what I'm talkin 'bout right? Look

I'm never goin' nowhere so don't try me
My music sticks in fans veins like an IV
Flows poison like Ivy oh they grimy
Already offers on my 6th album from labels tryin' to sign me

Respected highly hi Mr. O'Reilly
Hope all is well kiss the plantiff and the wifey
Drove through the window the industry supersized me
Now the girls see me and a river's what they cry me

I'm on the rise so many people despise me
Got party ammunition for those tryin' to surprise me
(Surprise)
It's a celebration and everyone should invite me
Roll with the crew or meet the bottom of our Nikes

Explorer like Dora these swipers can't swipe me
My whole aura's so mean in my white tee
Nobody light-skinded reppin' harder since Ice-T
You disagree take the Tyson approach and bite me

Woa don't slip up or get got
(Why not man?)
I'm comin' for that number one spot
(Alright)
Rappers swearin' they on top
But I'm comin' for they number one spot
(Alright man)

Scheme, scheme, plot, plot
(Say what?)
I'm comin' for that number one spot
Keep it goin' it won't stop
(What you doin' man?)
I'm comin' for that number one spot

Yes indeed Ludacris I'm hotter than Nevada
Ready to break the steerin' column on yo Impala
If I get caught bail out po-po I tell 'em holla
In court I never show up like Austin Powers fa-zha

Father, father and hey I love gold
But can buy anything I want from the records I've sold
Jacuzzi's hot, cristal is so cold
Neighbours catch contacts from the blunts that I've rolled

A pig in a blanket, a smoke and a pancake
Drop albums non-stop once a year for my fans sake
I crush mics until my hand breaks
Then shag now and shag later till these women can't stand straight

The Luda-meister got 'em feelin so randy
I'm double XL so I call 'em my 'Eye Candy'
Brush my shoulder and I pop my collar
'Coz I'm worth a million ga-zillion fa-fillion dollars

Woa don't slip up or get got
(Why not man?)
I'm comin' for that number one spot
(Alright)
Rappers swearin' they on top
But I'm comin' for they number one spot
(Alright man)

Scheme, scheme, plot, plot
(Say what?)
I'm comin' for that number one spot
Keep it goin' it won't stop
(What you doin' man?)
I'm comin' for that number one spot

Causin' lyrical disasters it's the master
Make music for mini-me's models and fat bastards
These women tryin' yo get me out my pelle, pelle
They strip off my clothes and tell me "Get in my belly"

Stay on the track hit the ground running like Flo-Jo
Sent back in time and I've never lost my mojo
Ladies and gentlemen ahh boys and girls
Ludacris sit down and take over the whole world

Woa don't slip up or get got
(Why not man?)
I'm comin' for that number one spot
(Alright)
Rappers swearin' they on top
But I'm comin' for they number one spot
(Alright man)

Scheme, scheme, plot, plot
(Say what?)
I'm comin' for that number one spot
Keep it goin' it won't stop
(What you doin' man?)
I'm comin' for that number one spot

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f37f0e6a3bb3aa5657b2c54bff7d133a

Ordinary People - Lyrics - Chrome Dreams II - Neil Young

Title: Ordinary People
Album: Chrome Dreams II
Artist: Neil Young
Composer(s): Neil Young

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
Two out of work models and a fashion slave
Try to dance away the Piccolo night
The bartender poured herself another drink
While two drunks were watchin' the fight
The champ went down and he got up again
Then he went out like a light
Fightin' for the people

But his timing wasn't right
The high rollin' people
Takin' limos in the neon light
The Las Vegas people
They came to see a Las Vegas fight
Fightin' for the people

There's a man in the window with a big cigar
Says everything's for sale
He had a house and a boat and a railroad car
The owner's gotta go to jail
He acquired these things from a life of crime
Now he's sellin' them to make bail
He was rippin' off the people

Sellin' guns to the underground
Livin' off the people
Skimmin' the top when there was no one around
Tryin' to help the people
Lose their ass for a piece of ground
A patch o' ground people

He was dealin' antiques in a hardware store
But he sure had a lot to hide
He had a back room full of the guns of war
And a ton ammunition besides
Yeah, he walked with a cane
Kept a bolt on the door with five pit bulls inside
Just a warnin' to the people

In case they might try to break in at night
Protection from the people
He's sellin' safety in the darkest night
Tryin' to help the people
Get the drugs to the street all right
Tryin' to help the people

Well, it's hard to say where a man goes wrong
Might be here and it might be there
What starts out weak might get too strong
If you can't tell foul from fair
But it's hard to judge from an angry throng
Of hands stretched up in the air
Vigilante people

Takin' the law into their own hands
The conscientious people
Crackin' down on the drug lord and his bands
Government people
Confiscatin' all the dealer's land
The patch o' ground people

A new Rolls Royce, a company car
They were racin' down the street
Each one was tryin' to make it to the gate
Before employees manned the fleet
The trucks full of products for the modern home
Were set to roll out into the street of ordinary people

Tryin' to make their way to work
The downtown people
Some are saints and some are jerks
That's me, everyday people
Stoppin' for a drink on their way to work
Alcoholic people, takin' it one day at a time

Down on the assembly line
They keep puttin' the same things out
The people today, they just ain't buyin'
Nobody can figure it out
They try like hell to build a quality in
They're workin' hard without a doubt
Ordinary people

But the dollar's what it's all about
Lee Iaccoca people
But the customers are walkin' out
The nose to the stone people
Yeah, they look but they just don't buy
The patch o' ground people

In a dusty town the clock struck high noon
Two men stood face to face
One wore black and one wore white
But of fear there wasn't a trace
A hundred and eighty years later
Two hot rods drag through the very same place
A half million people

They moved in to pick up the pace
A factory full of people
Makin' parts to go to outer space
A train load of people
They were leavin' for another place
Out of town people

Down at the factory they're puttin' new windows in
The vandals made a mess of things
And the homeless just walked right in
Well, they worked here once and they live here now
But they might work here again
The ordinary people

They're just livin' in a dream
Hard workin' people
Just don't know what it means
To give up people
They're just like they used to be
Patch o' ground people

Out on the railroad track they're cleanin' ol' number nine
They're scrubbin' the boiler down
She really is lookin' fine, a beauty, that number nine
Times'll be different soon they're gonna bring her back on line
Ordinary people

They're gonna bring the good things back
Hard workin' people
They put the business back on track
The everyday people
I got faith in the regular kind
Patch o' ground people

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1c16c666ba39edf0a0430d8a38fd656b

Love On The Line - Lyrics - Eaten Alive - Diana Ross

Title: Love On The Line
Album: Eaten Alive
Artist: Diana Ross
Composer(s): Maurice Gibb, Robin Hugh Gibb, Barry Gibb

Lyric:
When I don't see you
And I don't know where you've been
There gets to be a question in my mind

It hurts to love you
And the knife goes through the heart of me
When you're gone I lose a part of me that's hard to find

Don't want to fall asleep without you
Don't wanna wake, don't wanna wake up when you're gone
I don't know what you do that makes me love you

But then love don't mean surrender
And it's time I let it show
You've got someone else in love with you
And I deserve to know

You've been laying our
Love on the line
That's my suspicion
When I see her in your eyes

Love undermined
No ammunition
I don't wanna love you paralyzed
I don't wanna love you paralyzed

Some misty morning
When she does the same to you
When she makes you feel like I do
That's the day

She can't have you
She can't build a wall around you
She can't love you like I love you
Anyway

I know by midnight if you leave me
No lies can make the difference
More hearts get broken now than need be
It's right to face the woman

That steal the away man
If there's anything to get you back
That I must do I can
And our love will never be

Love on the line
That's my suspicion
When I can see her in your eyes
In your eyes

Love undermined
I'm on a mission
I don't wanna love you paralyzed
I don't wanna love you paralyzed

My life I won't surrender
I'll find out where you go
There's someone else in love with you
And I deserve to know

And it's dying in the heart of me
And our love should never be

Love on the line
That's my suspicion
When I can see her in your eyes
In your eyes

Love undermined
No ammunition
Don't wanna love you paralyzed

Love on the line
That's my suspicion
When I can see her in your eyes

Love undermined
And I'm on a mission
I don't wanna love you paralyzed
I don't wanna love you paralyzed

Love undermined
That's my suspicion
When I can see her in your eyes

Love on the line
That's my suspicion
When I can see her in your eyes

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4eccf13875d42810b7e9f22d065309cf

Z - Poppin' Tags - Lyrics - The Blueprint 2: The Gift & The Curse - Jay

Title: Z - Poppin' Tags
Album: The Blueprint 2: The Gift & The Curse
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): William Robinson, Antwan Patton, Shawn Carter, Michael Santigo Render, Kanye West, Carl Terrell Mitchell

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
And we gon' stay hustlin' on that block until we caught
And we gon' stay showin' off that jewelry that we bought
And we gon' stay leavin' out the stores with heavy bags
'Cause we be poppin' tags, pimpin' we be poppin' tags

And we gon' stay hustlin' on that block until we caught
And we gon' stay showin' off that jewelry that we bought
And we gon' stay leavin' out the stores with heavy bags
'Cause we be poppin' tags, pimpin' we be poppin' tags

We arose, let's go
So fresh so clean like 'Kast
Jay-Z be poppin' tags
Leavin' the mall with heavy bags
You know the boy got a love for the cash
Aw fuck, there he go again
Talkin' bout hoes and dough again
Yup! Can't hold it in

I'm surprised I got so much dough to spend
But, back when I was poorer then
You wasn't focusin', about the dough I spend
But I was holdin' in, I was a roller then
I was a baller back then, all of that man
Fall back, I fought that
What would you do if you was in my shoes?

Leave dudes in the rearview
V-12 engine, corners spinnin'
Twinkies shinin', pinky ring
Armadale, nigga stinky stink
Top, down, my cash is up
Gold chain, I don't give a fuck
Gold brain'll get you in the truck ma
That's right, you in luck ma

You see me cruisin' down, better step inside
Ain't enough room to fit you all in the ride
First come, first served basis
You know hoe be goin' to nice places
That's right, and I'm droppin' cash
Leave the mall with garbage bags
Gucci this, Prada that
Roll wit your boy you'll be poppin tags

And we gon' stay hustlin' on that block until we caught
And we gon' stay showin' off that jewelry that we bought
And we gon' stay leavin' out the stores with heavy bags
'Cause we be poppin' tags, pimpin' we be poppin' tags

And we gon' stay hustlin' on that block until we caught
And we gon' stay showin' off that jewelry that we bought
And we gon' stay leavin' out the stores with heavy bags
'Cause we be poppin' tags, pimpin' we be poppin' tags

It's a party when I go up in the sto'
Shoppin' while I'm zooted off the dro'
Rollin' like a nigga that just came up on a mill
And I got 'em sweepin' and pickin' up tags off the floor
Bag full of clothes I remember havin' rocks in the hall
On the glimmer with the glock by the ball
Servin' up a jab and workin' security 6 to 6
Then it's straight from the block to the mall

Now what's on the wall? Go ahead and treat yourself
When you come up on some cheddar better pop that tag
Like when I dip off in the Prada then I go off
To the lot lay the paper down and cop that Jag
I got a console full of ammunition and funds
Mink roc a wear and some guns
Petty in a fresh pair of jumps, blo packs and Bo Jackson
And air maxes, throw back some ones, no max for none

When I go up in the sto' a nigga never get enough
I'm a baller and if you want it come and get it now
Nigga come to a race with a car you won't catch up
And the twista kinda wicked when I spit it now
I be choppin' up cheddar with Kanye
Chop a little cheddar up with Jay
Chop it up with the O to the kizay
Poppin big tags with the flow and the dough, we get busy

And we gon' stay hustlin' on that block until we caught
And we gon' stay showin' off that jewelry that we bought
And we gon' stay leavin' out the stores with heavy bags
'Cause we be poppin' tags, pimpin' we be poppin' tags

And we gon' stay hustlin' on that block until we caught
And we gon' stay showin' off that jewelry that we bought
And we gon' stay leavin' out the stores with heavy bags
'Cause we be poppin' tags, pimpin' we be poppin' tags

Uh huh, whattup? Tell you somethin' bout me
My throwback game is whiffle wicked
Saint Patty's day, green pinstripe, number 20 Mark Spitz'n
Jersey oh we with the matchin' new wear fitted
White boys say my style is bitchin'
Keepin' coke in the kitchen
Keep a glock that will shock and bring the rest
Tucked underneath my Mitchell and Ness

I, travelin', handlin' with a forty-five cannon
It's tucked in my Marc Buchanan
Extra clips and shells in the lambskin
Two deep by Pelle Pelle
Westside how they felly fell
More G's on me, than a late 80's Gucci leather
Worn by the great Rakim himself

Stitch my dapper dan oh man with the gun in hand
I leave your blood squirting
No offense, I'll put your face on the chest
Of a sweatshirt drawn by shirt kings
I been fucking, a hustle, married to a racket
Since the first Air Jordan's and Starter jackets
I slept with a package, under mattress

I carry guns heavy speakeasy, slight with the fight words
I'll put somethin' hot through your motherfuckin' iceberg
Got a project chica, named Rica
She keep a purse full of dro' reefer
Small, pinkies like that
Talk 'til the paper fat
I rock somethin', roll chief sacks like daddy fat

And we gon' stay hustlin' on that block until we caught
And we gon' stay showin' off that jewelery that we bought
And we gon' stay leavin' out the stores with heavy bags
'Cause we be poppin' tags, trippin' we be poppin' tags

And we gon' stay hustlin' on that block until we caught
And we gon' stay showin' off that jewelery that we bought
And we gon' stay leavin' out the stores with heavy bags
'Cause we be poppin' tags, trippin' we be poppin' tags

Pop tires in reverse, you'll be needin' a nurse
Leave you layin' on your back in a Cadillac hearse
Now your momma in all black with a matchin' purse
I know you wanna blow up, but a funeral hurts
What's worse, you can hit the mall and ball 'til you fall
Have to make a collect call, but your cell cut off
Trot to the mailbox thinkin' a check but the mail's run short

No more MD, DD, LD
That means movie date, dinner date
Lunch date, help me please
My sheets is gone
Long bread to the short bread, word is bond
Meticulously pimpously serve the song
Act a damn donkey
Like the pilgrims when they popped
A tag on the Indians home

Drop top rag o with the weed gone
Chillin', bags in the trunk full of FAO Schwartz for the chill'uns
Spent a few shillings
Sip a few chickens, lick a few kittens, just kiddin'
A fresh bowl of milk is in the fridge and
Can you pop the tags on the honeycombs
Or are you actin' mad cause the money done

Slowed, down, just a little bit dipped, poked out, did some shull bit
Actin' like a pitfall bull pit, dead game is the pulpit
Leave a motherfucker with his John Doe toe tag clipped
Imperial classic, a lyrical thrashin' a miracle happenin'
Jay-Z, Killer Mike and Big Boi rappin' and rhymin' and smabbin'
Pop that tag on some of this game
Hollatic, swallow and keep the change

And we gon' stay hustlin' on that block until we caught
And we gon' stay showin' off that jewelry that we bought
And we gon' stay leavin' out the stores with heavy bags
'Cause we be poppin' tags, pimpin' we be poppin' tags

And we gon' stay hustlin' on that block until we caught
And we gon' stay showin' off that jewelry that we bought
And we gon' stay leavin' out the stores with heavy bags
'Cause we be poppin' tags, pimpin' we be poppin' tags

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