8 Rulez - Lyrics - Undaground Legend - Lil' Flip

Title: 8 Rulez
Album: Undaground Legend
Artist: Lil' Flip
Composer(s): Wesley Weston, Maurice Jordan, Shasta Moore

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

Lyric:
It's the 8 rulez on the streets
You live by this, you won't get holed up

1, never let a nigga know yo business
2, always start what you finish
3, stay on yo note, don't slip
4, be careful 'cause these streets are a trip

5, always keep a glock in yo whip
6, real niggaz stick to the script
7, don't slang crack where you stay
8, just don't do it, okay?

In my hood all you see is dope fiends an' dope dealers
Rats an' roaches, police an' 4 wheelers
[Incomprehensible], pawn shops, liquor stores
30 year old men, chillin', drinkin [Incomprehensible]

Stop signs, but don't nobody ever stop
It's ten groups in my hood, but don't nobody drop
Plus the block is hot an' this dope game cold
Through rain, sleet or snow, birds gotta get sold

Birds get sold, I stand an' watch the game unfold
Thing gets low, I told my connect right in the snow
They exchanged the dough, leave the scene wit no clue
4 words you gotta remember, 'Don't break the rules'

Use your tools, it's kinda like you move, you loose
If you don't fuck wit me, I ain't fuckin' wit you
Check the game 'til you see my weapon aim
Nigga, I ain't a rookie I'm a veteran, mayne

1, never let a nigga know yo business
2, always start what you finish
3, stay on yo note, don't slip
4, be careful 'cause these streets are a trip

5, always keep a glock in yo whip
6, real niggaz stick to the script
7, don't slang crack where you stay
8, just don't do it, okay?

Hustle for yo whip, stack Benjamins
Buy a cookie cutter, whip it, ship it, then I'm in the wind
Back to home base, I'm on a paper chase
I'm not a case catcher, so I can't catch a case

Money on my mind an' how am I gonna get it
I dress like I'm broke, but I'm really runnin' the city
Bricks turn into crumbs, gallons turn into ones
Drugs, violence, distributin' narcotics usin' guns

Money, cash, hoes, swangin' glass folds
Get the dough, pay the bills, man, that's all I know
Hustlers never sleep an' sleepers never hustle
Down on the interstate with a brick in my muffler

Keep it on a low 'cause niggas be snitchin'
They'll do anythin', so they won't see prison
Man, you never know, yo brother could be a snitch
A month later, now you got Undercovers shakin' yo piss

I'm off the block, somebody better call the cops
I'm haulin' rocks, somebody better call the doc
I'm shippin' an' handlin', when I'm not chicken dismantlin'
The family don't feed me, I feed the family

1, never let a nigga know yo business
2, always start what you finish
3, stay on yo note, don't slip
4, be careful 'cause these streets are a trip

5, always keep a glock in yo whip
6, real niggaz stick to the script
7, don't slang crack where you stay
8, just don't do it, okay?

1, never let a nigga know yo business
2, always start what you finish
3, stay on yo note, don't slip
4, be careful 'cause these streets are a trip

5, always keep a glock in yo whip
6, real niggaz stick to the script
7, don't slang crack where you stay
8, just don't do it, okay?

Play the MP3 online for free!

8f9efbba4adc9ccc6d68e5d346e50c7a

Agree To Stay - Lyrics - Liquido

Title: Agree To Stay
Artist: Liquido
Composer(s): Wolfgang Schroedl

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

Lyric:
You held my spine
To see me rise
Now taste the silence

A brick of light
Reveals the day
I smell that you went by
I see now

Agree to stay
And spend the night
Don't be alone now
You held my hand
I slipped away

We'd sleep beneath the stars
How i hate being scared
The more i think
The more I do

Sill anything
Reminds me of you
I smell your hair
I hear your voice
I feel you

I wish we knew
A place to play
Where no one could find us
You lied to me
The other day

Don't keep it all inside
How I wish I was free
The more i think
The more I do

Still anything
Reminds me of you
I smell your hair
I hear your voice
I feel you

Play the MP3 online for free!

eb9db40eec81a81bc9574fae6a31af49

Babygirl - Lyrics - Juslisen - Musiq Soulchild

Title: Babygirl
Album: Juslisen
Artist: Musiq Soulchild
Composer(s): Taalib Johnson, Charles M. Njapa

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

Lyric:
So fine baby, smelled so nice when you walked on by, yeah

Pardon me my darling but do you have a second
Just so I can tell you how you caught my full attention
Now how is it that you look so well put together?
Flawless as can be, it just doesn?t get no better

Hey babygirl why don?t you come home with me
And let me show you what some good loving means
'Cause I got so much love inside
And I wanna give it all to you babygirl, to you babygirl

Oh yeah, your body?s picture perfect and there ain?t a brick that?s missing
You look like your mama raised you on them grits and chicken
Now I know that you heard this like probably all the time
But if you come with me, I?m gon' make it worth your while

Hey babygirl why don?t you come home with me
And let me show you what some good loving means
'Cause I got so much love inside
And I wanna give it all to you babygirl, to you babygirl

Babygirl, babygirl, babygirl, babygirl
(Don?t you walk away from me, no baby)
Babygirl, babygirl, babygirl, babygirl
(Hey girl)

Hey babygirl why don?t you come home with me
And let me show you what some good loving means
'Cause I got so much love inside
And I wanna give it all to you babygirl, to you babygirl

Hey babygirl why don?t you come home with me
And let me show you what some good loving means
'Cause I got so much love inside
And I wanna give it all to you babygirl, to you babygirl

Babygirl, oh no no babygirl
[Incomprehensible]

Play the MP3 online for free!

1feb6ddf3d870cb640d9431b803a59bd

Cereal Killer - Lyrics - Tical 2000 Judgementday - Method Man

Title: Cereal Killer
Album: Tical 2000 Judgementday
Artist: Method Man
Composer(s): Willie James Clarke, Clifford Smith, Clarence Henry Reid, Reggie Noble, Robert Diggs

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

Lyric:
Yeah, murda, murda, murda, kill, kill, kill
Murda, murda, murda, kill, kill, kill
I'm going to kill

Slowly I turn, step by step through the back window, I crept
Silent as a mouse on a set while everybody in the house slept
I disconnect the phones and the rest find a butcher knife
Cut the power lines to the lights now a nigga wild for the night
I come like the living death, straight from the dirt
Back to avenge his own death on this earth

Ever heard of Jason, then you know my work
Down to the basement, the dog get it first
I can't help myself, my thoughts ain't my own
The voices in my head just won't leave me alone
Murda, murda, murda, kill, kill, kill
Pissing on the car seats, flattenin' the wheels
So there's no escape from the fate that awaits
No one to witness the horror taking place

Yeah, now I'm on my way up the stairs
To the bedroom on my prey unaware
Heads will be hung from the chimney with care
With hopes that the police soon will be here
I'm a killer

Yo, yo
Fuck knocking, kick the door, evict the four
Yell out, "It's a stickup, hit the floor"
You fish cake niggas, stay Lipton off
Did your mama name you, or Mrs. Paul's
Battle in session, what's up with it?
I talk like I walk with a fucked up pivot
Niggas scream out, "It's just us bitches"
Don't shoot, out the phone booth

I aim at your party, hit the wrong group, "Happy birth"
Niggas done snap, runnin' hunch back
Ducking, brick walls, get thumbtacked
So run laps, for I body you
Bust out the size, like karate shoes, Doc
Turn Velcro, when night falls
Central park joggers, wear bright clothes
Tae Bo, five flo's lizard, centipede, snake
I'm a killer, I'm a killer
This is the sound of a cow

Yo, yo
I walk on backs like Mr. Bentley, after P P P strips you empty
Gather around, for rapid sound fourth of July was three months ago
Shoulda pad 'em down no one will fold both thumbs
And eight fingers to square with Joe Young
Tongue below one, spit dumb, moron
For white boys to snowboard on
So whatchu, whatchu, whatchu want?

Chew spearmint gum two double pump
Two cannons, piece by piece
Your school get dazed like G by G
Murda, murda, murda, kill, kill, kill
Take nuts and screws out ferris wheels
If you ain't Missy, payin' no bills
Body, you and supermarket, no thrills

Murda, murda, murda, kill, kill, kill
Murda, murda, murda, kill, kill, kill

Doc hold my coat, I'm 'bout to go low
Titanic MC rock the boat meth
Tone deaf rhyme, microphone sex line
Next time don't forget the TEC-9 step
Five digital, context is critical
Bomb threat these individuals thats on deck
So you the ill est nigga in Nebraska? Hell naw
It's the master, number sixteen, party crasher, Flex

I think too much, I drink too much
My crew don't really give two fucks, about you ducks
We over here Shaolin', what, spontaneous combust
When I smoke a bag of dust, what a rush, cigar be the dutch
Method Man and Redman, Starsky and Hutch
I crush MC's can't trust niggas, niggas can't trust me
I'm a killer

Cereal, cereal killer
Cereal, cereal killer
Cereal, cereal killer
Cereal, cereal killer

Play the MP3 online for free!

7d28316c8a63474b9c4e8e2bf4593c3e

City Of Love - Lyrics - Martina - Martina Mcbride

Title: City Of Love
Album: Martina
Artist: Martina Mcbride
Composer(s): Troy Lancaster, Tommy Polk

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

Lyric:
This is no yellow brick road
We've been travelin' on
A river of tears washed us here
We're right where we belong

We rode it out, no we didn't drown
And look at what we've found

Every street we take is paved with truth
If a mountain's in our way that's a mountain we move
Baby there ain't nothin' we can't do
Since me and you built this city of love

Through shiftin' sands, with our own hands
We dug to solid ground
Where we found out what love's about
Yeah, there's no stoppin' us now

Yeah, on our own stone by stone
We built a fortress strong

Where every street we take is paved with truth
If a mountain's in our way that's a mountain we move
Baby there ain't nothin' we can't do
Since me and you built this city of love
Built this city of love, ooh yeah

Yeah, every street we take is paved with truth
If a mountain's in our way that's a mountain we move
Baby there ain't nothin' we can't do
Since me and you built this city of love
This city of love

Play the MP3 online for free!

640e7a95426543e68568bdb749fb945c

Blackout - Lyrics - Flesh Of My Flesh, Blood Of My Blood - Dmx

Title: Blackout
Album: Flesh Of My Flesh, Blood Of My Blood
Artist: Dmx
Composer(s): David Styles, Jayson Phillips, Earl Simmons, Shawn Carter, Kasseem Dean, Sean Jacobs

Lyric:
Jay! Fuck that, this is it right here baby!
You know what it is

Yo, I used to have bad luck, now you might see me in a Jag truck
Mad stuck, either with a dime or a bad duck
Double-R T with the matchin' bandanna
38-snub blue steel with no hammer

And I see y'all niggaz tryin' to glance at the 'Kiss
'Cause I walk around with your whole advance on my wrist
Phonin' your women, drunk off Corona's and lemon
And you know I'm still writin' the mean, lightin' the green

I need to boogie, even though I look, right in the beam
Judge find out it's my team, he boost they bails
Niggaz throw us on they album, try to boost they sales
We put our pies on the table and our eyes on a label

'Cause them rednecks up in the mountains'll try to slay you
They call me Raspy, tell you what I want you to know
Fuck what you ask me, you probably don't, want me to blow
I got a lot of horsepower so I'm able to skip

Usually a good nigga, even though I'm able to flip
You pay 30 for the 'Kiss, a 100 for The L.O.X.
And if we cool, then I write a hook for a drop
Whatever's in the bank is my bet, a Z-bull's my pet
And you can bet he'll get the legs and the neck

Aiyyo, yo when my gun bust, send niggaz to the fish like Swanson
New York's youngest Bumpy Johnson, I put fear in y'all heads
Sheik Luc', type of nigga gasoline y'all beds
And that's warnin', if you all alive in the mornin', that's fine
Now I suggest you hit the block and get what's rightfully mine

I want PC, see me? Tuck in your chains
I got niggaz my pop's age that lifestyle ain't changed
It's like wake up, move a brick, half of it slow
Make car money, check with Sheik, go fuck with a hoe

I rock a waist length mink, do-rag under my fitted
And I don't even want waves, Timbs be halfway new
That's Sheik in the dress-up club 'cause I don't fuck with shoes
And for my nigga's life, I swear to the Bible, let it be told

I put thirty in your head, all in the same hole
'Cause we got the same goal, and you try an' tamper with mine?
Don't make me motherfuckin' leave you with some shit in your spine
Fuck with me you be a was nigga, nigga was dope
Nigga was gettin' money 'fore I extorted your coke, 'ju crazy?

Aiyyo, catch me with a thirty-eight, box and shells
In a ninety-eight Lincoln eatin' pasta shells
Order to go, always got a box of L's
Blow, stay on the low, get a Heine' and swig

I'm Pinero, so I hate a snake, rat, or a pig
I pop shit 'cause I'm the second best, the first was B.I.G.
Y'all niggaz is son-ned out, let me speak to your father
'Cause I like to play chess and I swing the revolver

If I don't like a nigga, I don't even be bothered
I spit, I'm just a crooked nigga goin' legit
You hold your nine if you holdin' a brick
Common sense, Fed drama, you hit the Bahamas, get bent

L.O.X. get respect like Sonny from 'Bronx Tale'
Us and DMX, the Ruff Ryder cartel
Thirsty to live, are y'all niggaz eager to die?
I tell all my niggaz ride, you won't leave with a dime, motherfucker

I'm a monster, I sleep whole winters, wake up and spit summers
Ghetto nigga, puttin' up Will Smith numbers
Surrounded by 6's and Hummers, bitches among us
Tryin' not to let this bullshit become us

It started from hunger, till it all went insane
Now bitches notice the chains now that I hit my number
The chickens I twisted see the digits unlisted
The beeper done changed, you dead bitch, the Reaper done came

I suggest niggaz stop speakin' my name
'Cause trust me, y'all can still feel the heat in the rain
I keep creepin', streets keep watchin', I keep poppin'
Niggaz is hot heads and the bullets is heat-seekin'

Jay flow for pesos, chase hoes not
I just circle 'round the block in a drop
Tell them jump through the top
Where the sun roof used to be, I could see y'all not used to me

Nigga flows like none other, I'm the meanest
Toughest Don Dada, the gun butcher
You the type that bust a lot of shots and none touch ya
I'm the type that get excited, when the gun touch ya motherfuckers
Y'all niggaz 'bout to witness a dynasty like no other

I'm headed nowhere fast run in the place, gat in my waist
Niggaz wanted a taste, but wouldn't come to my face
So what that mean? You cats is playin' games again
So now what I do? Start namin' names again, what?

All you motherfuckers know, that I speak from the heart
Play like you don't know, L.O.X. is gon' bark
We can take it there, but to make it fair, get some more niggaz
Styles, Sheik, Jay, we comin' with like four niggaz, aight

Y'all niggaz, best to stop playin', it'll be the ones you forgotten about
That'll get you shot in your mouth, got my dogs covered
Plus it's all gravy like chicken when it's smothered, what?
'It's Dark,' and I love it, get him boy, let him loose, c'mon
You want it with the dog? Get a gun, let him shoot, c'mon

Play the MP3 online for free!

c61b09d95a7348de58e38210f4fb1179

Blood From A Clone - Lyrics - George Harrison

Title: Blood From A Clone
Artist: George Harrison
Composer(s): George Harrison

Lyric:
They say they like it but now in the market
It may not go well as it's too laid back
You need some oomph, papa, nothing like Frank Zappa
And not new wave, they don't play that crap

Try beating your head on a brick wall
Hard like a stone
Don't have time for the music
They want the blood from a clone

I hear a clock ticking, I feel the nitpicking
I almost quit kicking at the wall
There seems a confusion under the illusion
That they know just what will suit you all

Beating my head on a brick wall
Hard like a stone
Ain't got time for the music
They want the blood from a clone

There is no sense to it, pure pounds and pence to it
They're so intense too, makes me amazed
Don't want no music but they're making you sick with
Some awful noises that may get played

By beating their heads on a brick wall
Hard like a stone
Ain't no messing 'round with music
Give them the blood from a clone

Beating my head on a brick wall
Hard like a stone
Ain't got time for the music
They want the blood from a clone

Where will it all lead us? I thought we had freed us
From the mundane, seems I'm wrong again
Could be they lack roots, they're still wearing Jack boots
And marching somewhere in the pouring rain

Beating my head on a brick wall
Hard like a stone
Don't have time for the music
They want the blood from a clone

By beating their heads on a brick wall
Hard like a stone
Ain't no messing 'round with music
Give them the blood from a clone

Beating my head on a brick wall
Hard like a stone
Ain't got time for the music
They want the blood from a clone

Play the MP3 online for free!

19f61b8fd0be97815d8bd1f63cc210bf

Blood On The Ground - Lyrics - Incubus

Title: Blood On The Ground
Artist: Incubus
Composer(s): Jose Anthony Ii Pasillas, Brandon Charles Boyd, Alex Katunich, Christopher E Kilmore, Michael Aaron Einziger

Lyric:
I don't wanna talk to you anymore
I'm afraid of what I might say
I bite my tongue every time you come around
'Cause blood in my mouth beats blood on the ground

Blood
Blood

Hand over my heart, I swear I've tried everything
I could within all my power
Two weeks and one hour I slaved
And now I've got nothing to show

Oh, if only you'd grow taller than a brick wall
From now on, gonna start holding my breath
When you come around and you flex that fake grin
'Cause something inside me has said more than twice
That breathing less air beats breathing you in

I don't wanna talk to you anymore
Well I'm afraid of what I might say
I bite my tongue every time you come around
'Cause blood in my mouth beats blood on the ground

Hand over my mouth, I'm earning
The right to my silence in quiet discerning
Between ego and timing
Good judgment is once again proving to me
That it's still worth it's weight in gold

From now on I'm gonna be so much more weary
When you start to speak and my warm blood
Starts to boil seeing you is like pulling teeth
And hearing your voice is like chewing tin foil

I don't wanna talk to you anymore
Well I'm afraid of what I might say
I bite my tongue every time you come around
'Cause blood in my mouth beats blood on the ground

High fives to a better judgment
By saying less today, I will gain more, gain more
Low twos to you my, my fickle friend
You, you, you brought the art of silent war

I don't wanna talk to you anymore
I'm afraid of what I might say
I bite my tongue every time you come around
'Cause blood in my mouth beats blood on the ground

Blood
Blood

Play the MP3 online for free!

6c337beef2464db1da9c2cab1e237d79

Flow Easy - Lyrics - You Can't See Me - John Cena

Title: Flow Easy
Album: You Can't See Me
Artist: John Cena
Composer(s): John Cena, Freddie Foxx, Marc Predka

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

Lyric:
First and foremost, flow easy, yo easy
Yo, yo, for the hood
Everybody flow easy, so easy
Yo, listen, for the corrupt mob
John Cena, Trademarc, listen

I embarrass MC's who touch the mic with me
That's why they never holla when it's show time, gimme
I spit poison like a black snake bit me
Guns up in the E-Class, D's can't get me

My foot is a 13, 12's don't fit me
My heart is cold and hard like Jack Frost bit me
So many new flows, old flows start to panic
It's time they got built by the mic mechanic

Y'all heard, I stay in hood streets like curbs
And never forget where I come from, word
I ain't goin' broke, fuck you, I'll cop me a brick
And take it straight to the block, forget rap quick

Don't trip, bump got a speed zone sign
For suckers who move too fast against mine
I'm pressed, pushin' it full speed ahead
You left, bullet in chest, meet the dead, so

Flow easy, turn up the mic, it's time
Flow easy, whenever I spit my rhyme
Flow easy, the underground pound and grime
Flow easy, but yours don't sound like mine

I flow easy, turn up the mic, it's time
I flow easy, whenever I spit my rhyme
I flow easy, the underground pound and grime
Flow easy, so your's don't sound like mine
I flow easy

Philosopher first, rapper second
Manifest the message, lessons involved
It all but hits you, aviate your crew and lift you
So what's the issue? Trademarc has got it locked before he meet you

Greet your mind before we even greet you
Won't mislead you, I ain't trustin' people 'cause I defeat you
Take it down a notch, slow your roll
'Cause we crush spirits, like we stole your soul

I set styles off dog, y'all are fuckin' mimics
Man, I talk more shit than pro-lifers in abortion clinics
Run my mouth off like high school rumors
Man and grab microphones like pedophiles gropin' late bloomers

Flow easy like your first day with white sneakers
You just a face in the crowd like packed bleachers
Huh, you better rock a sleeveless
Freddie Foxxx, Trademarc, John Cena breeze through
Y'all are fuckin' divas

Flow easy, turn up the mic, it's time
Flow easy, whenever I spit my rhyme
Flow easy, the underground pound and grime
Flow easy, but yours don't sound like mine

I flow easy, turn up the mic, it's time
I flow easy, whenever I spit my rhyme
I flow easy, the underground pound and grime
Flow easy, so your's don't sound like mine
I flow easy

First and foremost I sure post potential like Carmelo
Turn a hard MC to jello
Make their skin yellow with fear while stayin' mellow and clear
Man, we in for one hell of a year, yeah

Curse a fool like the Red Sox, we tighter than headlocks
I'm flowin' easy with Freddie Foxxx
Known to hang it low like dreadlocks and y'all are too slow
Like wearing a weight vest and lead socks

I'm a fat kid, you feed me? I'm still hungry
Never let a bitch take a bill from me
Like Jordan in the 4th quarter, I'm still money
Best believe the flow water, we still runny

Make your stomach feel funny, I'm so sick
With 16 bars twice the value of gold brick
Make it known quick that I'm greedy
We got the rats and the cheese B
So believe me

Flow easy, turn up the mic, it's time
Flow easy, whenever I spit my rhyme
Flow easy, the underground pound and grime
Flow easy, but your's don't sound like mine

I flow easy, turn up the mic, it's time
I flow easy, whenever I spit my rhyme
I flow easy, the underground pound and grime
Flow easy, so your's don't sound like mine
I flow easy

Play the MP3 online for free!

7a0a860b8153d0759d34bae7b5b7adc9

For Everybody - Lyrics - Juve The Great - Juvenile

Title: For Everybody
Album: Juve The Great
Artist: Juvenile
Composer(s): Terius Gray, Craig Lawson

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

Lyric:
Yeah, U T P nigga, come on
K L C nigga, come on, holla

I done tightened up on my G dog
Wacko outcher flippin' these hoes like see saws
Ya man trippin' girl, look we can creep on
Ya friends stressin' too, I'll flip all 3 of y'all
Respect my steez, I ain't really 'bout fallin' in love
I travel too much and baby sling too many drugs
Stay in the wrong place at the wrong time
With 2 bricks and a chrome 9
To these niggas I'm easy to be provokin'

Look, I got 1 in the chamber and I been smokin'
Don't make me proceed
I'll hit you from ya neck to ya knees
Have ya gaggin' where ya barely could breathe
But I ain't in here for this
Whoadie, I'm in here to get me a bitch
Bring her back to the telly to issue some dick
Hook up with Juve and Skip, go and get me a brick
And get ready for next Sunday to snatch a new chick

You can have an ole' lady
But them hoes
They for everybody
You can have an ole' lady
But them hoes
They for everybody
You can have an ole' lady
But them hoes
They for everybody

Let her go dog, that ain't ya hoe dog
Let me get broke off
Up in this jump off
Let her go dog, that ain't ya hoe dog
Let me get broke off
Up in this jump off

I done tightened up on my G dog
I was ducked out at first but now I beat broads
Cock back, bam Bash in her teeth off
Guarantee you this, that bitch gon' see stars
Respect my gangsta, I see you looking mad and I ain't 'cha
I know 50 Cent and bitch I ain't no Wanksta
And I don't get down like that, in the right time, at the right spot
If you try to buck, you gon' get shot

Hey fella, calm down, I know what ya thinkin'
But I got 1 in this chamber and I been drinkin'
Don't make me proceed, spit in ya face, bastard ya seed
Widow ya wife, you don't need my shit in ya life
Especially how I'm feeling tonight, if it was good, it'd be different
But it's not, so it's not, so let's end it
And bring this shit back to business
You can have yo bitch dog, I live by the rules that I'm givin'

You can have an ole' lady
But them hoes
They for everybody
You can have an ole' lady
But them hoes
They for everybody
You can have an ole' lady
But them hoes
They for everybody

Let her go dog, that ain't ya hoe dog
Let me get broke off
Up in this jump off
Let her go dog, that ain't ya hoe dog
Let me get broke off
Up in this jump off

Come on, come on, come on
Grab yo bitch by the arm 'cuz if she stop she hit
Oh, I know how to get 'em, I hit her with lotsa dick
The simple things I'm knowing that she probably miss
And in return she going out and buy me shit
I hope my adversaries is listening
Motherfucka with tryna be eased from these Devils 'cuz we evil in this
I'm not about to waste my dream on a bitch
I be out to tryna get money while she scheming for dick

I ain't gone lie if my ole lady leave a nigga, I'm sick
But we ain't married so fuck, she ain't got nothing to get
I had to go in fronta the jury January the 6th
I promise ya Honor, I ain't been doin' the shit
They just like to keep niggas like me in a mix
And use it on TV and radio as a skit
You wanna see some masks, make a move to the bricks
But before you make that move grab the tool and the clips, ya heard?

You can have an ole' lady
But them hoes
They for everybody
You can have an ole' lady
But them hoes
They for everybody
You can have an ole' lady
But them hoes
They for everybody
You can have an ole' lady
But them hoes
They for everybody

Let her go dog, that ain't ya hoe dog
Let me get broke off
Up in this jump off
Let her go dog, that ain't ya hoe dog
Let me get broke off
Up in this jump off
Let her go dog, that ain't ya hoe dog
Let me get broke off
Up in this jump off
Let her go dog, that ain't ya hoe dog
Let me get broke off
Up in this jump off

Play the MP3 online for free!

600208bb90cbea73e00669db5e7acc4a

Church For Thugs - Lyrics - Game

Title: Church For Thugs
Artist: Game
Composer(s): Curtis James Jackson, J Smith, Jayceon Taylor

Lyric:
Yeah, Fort Knox, Aftermath, Compton to Jersey
What y'all fools know about perculatin' on lo-lo?
Mics an' six fo's, nigga, ha ha, no more hand claps, please, nigga
Here we go, just blaze

To all my niggaz on the porch gettin' they hair braided
Cornrowed by a L.A. bitch
An' I can't forget, my niggaz ridin' the train, Yankee fitted
Snub nose under that Pele shit

I love New York, but gangbangin', that's L.A. shit
An' I'm proud of it, spit it through the wire so the crowd love it
Haters, you know who you are, you can turn it down, fuck it
I can shoot a video to it an' spend half the budget

I'm gangster, let the 40 cal blow in public
More hatred inside my soul than 'Pac had for Delores Tucker
Every time one of my niggaz get shot, the more I suffer
'Cause we trapped inside a world where you forced to die for your colors

I seen it all through the Range tints
Got niggaz doin' life in the state pen, so I dread like Jamaicans
If I die for one of my statements
Then break up the streets of Compton, spread my blood in the pavement

Believe me, niggaz keep sayin' they gon' heat me up
Talkin' that shit like they gon' lay me down
But when I come through strapped to see what's up
Niggaz really don't want no parts of me, pal

Niggaz keep sayin' they gon' heat me up
Talkin' that shit like they gon' lay me down
An' when I come through strapped to see what's up
Niggaz really don't want no parts of me, pal

Who I gotta talk to? Who I gotta write?
Get my Reebok deal done or I'm stayin' in Air Nikes, aight
I handle bars, you ain't gotta ride a bike
To beat Game in his skills, here go some trainin' wheels

Let's roll, through the City of God, where niggaz trained to kill
We'll chop you up a hundred times worse than the Haitians will
F'real, nah, f'real I eat a track, homey
Dre, we too close, ain't no turnin' back, homey

Deal with it, I'ma be here for ten years
Spittin' like the ghost of Eric Wright an' Big here
Let me paint this picture while you sit here
Thinkin' in the back of your mind, "This is the shit, yeah"

I spit for niggaz doin' 25 on they fifth year
Ready to throw a nigga off the fifth tier
Them white boys in the Abercrombie an' Fitch gear
An' every nigga who ever helped me to get here

Believe me, niggaz keep sayin' they gon' heat me up
Talkin' that shit like they gon' lay me down
But when I come through strapped to see what's up
Niggaz really don't want no parts of me, pal

Niggaz keep sayin' they gon' heat me up
Talkin' that shit like they gon' lay me down
An' when I come through strapped to see what's up
Niggaz really don't want no parts of me, pal

It go one brick, two brick, the boy movin' weight
Now three bricks, four bricks, I'm drivin' upstate
Five bricks, six bricks, the nigga got cake
Not rap money, but money been wrapped since '88

Look at the world we live in, niggaz steady hate
'Til the Heckler an' Koch, leave 'em chopped up like Freddie's face
Niggaz catchin' feelings 'cause I'm about millions
An' out of all the newcomers out, my flow the illest

You a close second, nigga, banana to a gorilla
Put us in the same cage an' I'ma have to peel him
The best of both worlds, rappin' an' drug dealin'
Run an' tell Lateef I came to burn down the village

The head honcho, starin' out the third story window
Of my Beverly Hills condo
Two long ass Heats, I call 'em Shaq an' Alonzo
You niggaz want me out of L.A., geah, I know

Believe me, niggaz keep sayin' they gon' heat me up
Talkin' that shit like they gon' lay me down
But when I come through strapped to see what's up
Niggaz really don't want no parts of me, pal

Niggaz keep sayin' they gon' heat me up
Talkin' that shit like they gon' lay me down
An' when I come through strapped to see what's up
Niggaz really don't want no parts of me, pal

Play the MP3 online for free!

ac052323a96599b38ab8d7bdd15aac57

Compton Compton - Lyrics - Untold Story - Game

Title: Compton Compton
Album: Untold Story
Artist: Game
Composer(s): Joseph Tom, Jayceon Taylor

Lyric:
Gangsta gangsta yeah
Shit I'm livin' gangsta gangsta shit, yeah

I'm from Compton, Compton, Murderville
You heard these niggaz is gangsters and they kill
Rob and steal, my niggaz will peel at will
For real they real, niggaz gon' feel this steel

Compton, Compton, Murderville
You heard these niggaz is gangsters and they kill
Rob and steal, my niggaz will peel at will
For real they real, niggaz gon' feel this steel

Walk with me through the ghetto where the packs get sold
And them niggaz sellin' the work ain't half as old
as the fiends and the hippies, same ones smokin' since the 60's
Everybody yellin' gimme, gimme

Every nigga in the hood, one hand on his jimmy
Other hand grip the semi, c'mon walk with me
Every ten houses, one got 'caine for sale
And I give you a dope track like my name Pharell

And you can get that stainless steel
Walk in my Chuck Taylors for a day, if you think it ain't f'real
When I buy rocks homey baguettes on my ring
And only neighborhood watch is my Tecno Marine

Keep a Mac on the block, I ain't talkin' 'bout Beans
QB in the hood and I'm far from Queens
The boys in the hood is always hard
So come through and get smoked like a Cuban cigar

I'm from Compton, Compton, Murderville
You heard these niggaz is gangsters, and they kill
Rob and steal, my niggaz will peel at will
For real they real, niggaz gon' feel this steel

Compton, Compton, Murderville
You heard these niggaz is gangsters, and they kill
Rob and steal, my niggaz will peel at will
For real they real, niggaz gon' feel this steel

I'm from Compton, Compton, a block from hell
And you can come get a bird for eleven
And we ain't got a penny for the reverend, a dime for a witness
Only church's in the hood sell chicken

Every nigga in the hood sell chickens move work like city buses
You fuckin' with the Hub City Hustler
The vans on the block won't touch us, the streets my home
So I move weight on the block like I'm Moses Malone

Bring the guns anywhere I roam, go with the chrome
And I hit all my shots, like I'm in the A.I. zone
And mob like Al Capone through N.W.A.'s home
Homes like Ed Jones will cripple your team up

In the home of Dr. Dre, Venus and Serena
Where 14 year olds pack ninas and drive Beamers
We ball up subpoenas, take niggaz to the cleaners
And you know what I'm talkin' about if y'all seen where

I'm from Compton, Compton, Murderville
You heard these niggaz is gangsters, and they kill
Rob and steal, my niggaz will peel at will
For real they real, niggaz gon' feel this steel

Compton, Compton, Murderville
You heard these niggaz is gangsters, and they kill
Rob and steal, my niggaz will peel at will
For real they real, niggaz gon' feel this steel

We drug dealin', but niggaz is squealin' fuck you rats
What more can I say, just kill 'em
Fuck 'em, the gun bust 'em, we just knock on wood
Now is this understood?

We drug dealin', but niggaz is squealin' fuck you rats
What more can I say, just kill 'em
Fuck 'em, the gun bust 'em, we just knock on wood
Now is this understood?

I mostly George when I whip, my supply is good
The man behind the bricks, I'm supplyin' the hood
Catch bodies like Pistol Pete passes on the wood
Benz parked by the fence, brick stashed in the hood

Top work by the inch, I bag it, it's gone
Ask Quik, we rock more than microphones
Some niggaz ball, some niggaz do what we do
And other niggaz sing for Cash Money like TQ

The block will heat and sink you hey dude
Cali ain't all palm trees, purple haze and sea dude
Lose your life tryin' to get these jewels
I keep the 40 cal wrapped in chrome like R2-D2

I'm from Compton, Compton, Murderville
You heard these niggaz is gangsters, and they kill
Rob and steal, my niggaz will peel at will
For real they real, niggaz gon' feel this steel

Compton, Compton, Murderville
You heard these niggaz is gangsters, and they kill

Play the MP3 online for free!

53dac5a10b8d0b18f37990809dd061ca

Dirty Little Girl - Lyrics - Goodbye Yellow Brick Road - Elton John

Title: Dirty Little Girl
Album: Goodbye Yellow Brick Road
Artist: Elton John
Composer(s): Elton John, Bernie Taupin

Lyric:
I've seen a lot of women, who haven't had much luck
I've seen you looking like you've been run down by a truck
That ain't nice to say, sometimes I guess I'm really hard
But I'm gonna put buckshots in your pants, if you step into my yard, oh

When I watch the police come by and move you on
Well I sometimes wonder what's beneath the mess you've become
Well you may have been a pioneer in the trade of women's wear
But all you got was a mop up job washing other people's stairs

I should tell
I should tell
I should tell

Gonna tell the world, you're a dirty little girl
Someone grab that bitch by the ears
Rub her down, scrub her back, turn her inside out
'Cause I bet she, I bet she, I bet she, oh, I bet she
Haven't had a bath in years

Here's my own belief about all the dirty girls
That you have to clean the oyster to find the pearl
And like rags that belong to you, I belong to myself
So don't show up around here till your social workers help

I should tell
I should tell
I should tell

Gonna tell the world, you're a dirty little girl
Someone grab that bitch by the ears
Rub her down, scrub her back and turn her inside out
'Cause I bet she, oh, I bet she, I gotta tell her now, I bet she, oh, I bet she
Haven't had a bath in years

Rub her down
'Cause I bet she, oh, I bet she, oh, now I bet she, oh, I bet she
Haven't had a bath in years

Dirty, dirty, dirty little girl
Dirty, dirty, dirty little girl
Dirty, dirty, dirty little girl
...

Play the MP3 online for free!

cc52c7e4638a47aa3ace141b2c26e821

Family Crisis - Lyrics - The Movement - Harlem World

Title: Family Crisis
Album: The Movement
Artist: Harlem World
Composer(s): Stason Betha, Samual Boateng, Piere Jones, J. Smith, Mason Betha, Ameen Burns, Chauncey Hawkins, Michael Foster

Lyric:
Huddy Combs bring it home we don't stop
Jimmy Jones all alone we don't stop
Loon crime fam' we don't stop
Meeno NRB we don't stop
To my man Blinky Blink we don't stop
My sis Baby Stase she don't stop
Killer Cam' Cardan they the fam'
One two we don't stop
I know you thinkin' how many nigga's he got?
Or what how many nigga's is hot?

Yo yeah you a fake wanna be rich nigga, bitch sticker
You know, that get on the stand and snitch stinker
So when Cardie read the press, I dream of success
I want cream to invest plus a Beam' and a Lex'
So I sold bags of Dutch, the cash and plus
My dad's a lush, so all we really had was us, what?

Wit me? it started like this, sip a six, get some chips
And about a half a brick
Now the whole team's in the mix facin' a three-to-six
'Cause they got the DA believin' this shit
So we handcuffed in back of the bus for some dust
Life in Harlem World shouldn't be so tough
It's hot at home, mamma's got a block on the phone
Couldn't call my man Pete so I called Huddy Comb

Yo, Meeno
Yo, Hud
On the low, here's the verdict
A nigga tried to front on me, pard', I wanna murder
I want the nigga jaw broken, chest peeled wide open
Tell Blink get on the next thing smokin'

Shit, I recognize that whip
Didn't he do a drive by on the strip?
Got caught, couldn't do five so he snitched?
What type of guy's this? Look in his eyes
He's a bitch
Mase, remember when we had his ride in the mix?
His girl start to cry, he took the side of his chick
Like we some nigga's that lie on our hits
Who you forget when you was suckin' and fuckin'
Now the war's on, we buckin' and duckin black
Mase pulled his truck in back
Blood rushin', spark the hydro, jumped inside the tie ho
Mase drive slow, and they go five o
Look out the window be sure we wasn't followed
No observers, whew! I just got away wit' murder

Yo, you ain't got to front for me, my gun pop too
Nigga pop me? Nigga pop you
Yo, don't shorty right there look familiar?
Matter of fact, while back used to deal wit' her
You wouldn't believe all the things that honey did
Yo, that's the same one throw the money out the crib
I liked it lot better when she came from Venezuela
But she spent too much cheddar so yo, I had to hit her

But yo, I know her friend Charise
She mad bad from Baghdad
Carry lotta money in Glad bag
She doin' runs for Willie Gum
Used to think that bitch was slick
But found out she was really dumb
She really from Philly's hunt of be more
'Bout to blow her spot like C-4
Never see me poor
So why this bitch fuckin' wit' me for
Knowin' that my life is up and down like see-saw

For days you argue and go through the phase
You blaze, you throw shade, now she hate yo' ways
No feelings, that's while the hoes you stealin'
Creepin', sneakin' in your pocket while you sleepin'
Freakin' off on the Major Degan
Wit' your new Rican every single week and it's sentimental
Understand what you been through
You fuck a friend, she don't hold it against you

Yeah, nigga, what nigga, touch nigga, fuck nigga
What chu want nigga? What chu want, what chu got?
Uh, what chu need? What chu got? Uh, what chu shoot?
What chu got? What?
Harlem World we don't stop
Mother fucker, put your deal on it
Mother fucker, put a mil' on it
Put yo' fuckin' ice grill on it
Put a mother fuckin' mil' on it
Niggas can't fuck wit' my clique
Who wanna put the money up?
I hear alot a niggas talkin'
But who wanna put they deal on it?
I hear alot a niggas talkin'
But who wanna put a mil on it?
Y'all niggas ain't sayin' shit
Yo' Blink, back the Benz up
Get from 'round me, nigga

Play the MP3 online for free!

d681e364005f0454cdc80f9d9eb958e2

Fool Get A Clue - Lyrics - Future Rhythm - Digital Underground

Title: Fool Get A Clue
Album: Future Rhythm
Artist: Digital Underground
Composer(s): M Hampton, K Butler, George Jr Clinton, G Jacobs, T Martin

Lyric:
Yo wake up it's the 'D' crew up in here
With the Black Spooks and we 'bout to drop it on y'all
Y'all best get a clue
Fool get a clue, get a clue, get a clue

Now everybody wanna tell everybody who to be with
Really doesn't matter to me long as I miss that H-I-V shit
And AIDS ain't the end of the world girls and us do kinky stuff
And there's way to muff without the fluids touchin'

Never hide the truth if my body and hair is sacred
Then why we can't be naked in public
It's totally natural like sex is but this is
A law that had to be made by men with itty bitty penises

The streets of this world they are my playground I explore them
Meet somebody I don't like and I ignore them I don't destroy them
They way that you know who be he want me to hate like he hate
But I got too much poo, poo with me

Fool get a clue it's a new game
Can't be trippin' on you I go my own way
Players gonna play with who they wanna play with
People gonna always lay with who they wanna lay with

Well it's the B, L, A, C, K to the S, P double O, K
It don't matter what another man say
I'm gone still do it all my way
'Cause I'm slick like C-Bo's quick

I don't wanna be down with yo gross click
I just wanna snap photo flicks
With a freaky little trick puffin dodo sticks
I can live foul as dirt road hicks

I can make three plus two make six
Cut with verbal scrapes and nicks
I'm as ill as chicks with dicks
Scuff my kicks I'm bustin' licks

Openin' somebody up like Vicks
Purchase ism by the bricks
Plus I brick city hoes I picks
All in yo mix as I ease betwixt

Like sitcom Vix be greasin' dicks
I be skeezin' chicks when the season switch
I be makin' tricks itch like fleas and ticks
I swoop low and prey on tricks

Large I've got my own prefix
I'll stop twitchin' where's my fixer
I gonna break shit up like Twix

Fool get a clue it's a new game
Can't be trippin' on you I go my own way
Players gonna play with who they wanna play with
People gonna always lay with who they wanna lay with

Fool get a clue it's a new game
Can't be trippin' on you I go my own way
Players gonna play with who they wanna play with
People gonna always lay with who they wanna lay with

You want me to want what you want
(I go my own way)
You want me to be like you be
(I go my own way)

You want me to trip like you be trippin'
(I go my own way)
Gotta go my own way
(I go my own way)

Maybe it ain't your flava but I'm gettin' wit it
Maybe you wouldn't be seen wit it yo but I'm splittin' wit it
Maybe it ain't your style or your shape but I'm hittin' it
You want me to hate what you hate
But quit it forget it, 'cause I ain't wit it

This country tis of thee
Taught me how to bring the groceries
Now I'm crazy just like I'm supposed to be
Smokin' mothafucka's my mentality
Sex, money and drugs mean the most to me

Murderin' mothafuckas ain't a thang to me
And I'ma keep slanging 'G'
Hold on young blood hold on
You gotta keep holdin' on
You gotta keep on fightin'

Play the MP3 online for free!

d88fed3e4b5873ccdabc39b2442d386d

Get Rich To This - Lyrics - Goodie Mob

Title: Get Rich To This
Artist: Goodie Mob
Composer(s): Rico R Wade, Antwan Patton, Jamahr Williams, Thomas Decarlo Burton, Willie Edward Knighton, Raymon Ameer Murray, Patrick L Brown, Cameron Gipp, Robert Terrance Barnett

Lyric:
We peel out sideways
(Get rich to this)
We do a hundred on the highways
(Get rich to this)
Thank God for Friday's
(Get rich to this)
Hey hey hey hey!
(Get rich to this)
We peel out sideways
(Get rich to this)
We do a hundred on the highways
(Get rich to this)
Thank God for Friday's
(Get rich to this)
Say say say say!
(Get rich to this)

It'll be all slippery, slick wid it automatically?
I'm the shit wid it, I'm psyched out, Sic-Wid-It
Like E-40 and The Click wid it
He sucker MC better know about it
I make your girlfriend hoe about it
I make a muh'fucka know about it

Somebody better tell him cock it back, hit a lick wid it
Keep it workin' drop a brick wid it
Off the block, serve a nig wid it, whip a brand new whip wid it
Apartment flow, you ain't know?
Look here lil' girl it come equipped wid it
She freaky deaky lick her lips wid it, she thick thick wid it

Jump, stump, twist wid it
Make 'em, make 'em, make 'em scrap wid it
Tear da club up, champagne campaign wid it
Party people do your thang wid it
I get to it y'all, I get the funds then I split wid it
A natural born money maker nitty-grit wid it ha? I get rich y'all

We peel out sideways
(Get rich to this)
We do a hundred on the highways
(Get rich to this)
Thank God for Friday's
(Get rich to this)
Hey hey hey hey!
(Get rich to this)
We peel out sideways
(Get rich to this)
We do a hundred on the highways
(Get rich to this)
Thank God for Friday's
(Get rich to this)
Say say say say!
(Get rich to this)

Ha boy, I done bought D's wid dis
Big 'bout-it Benz car keys wid dis
Condos in the Cancun summer breeze wid dis
And you know, doin' good fo' sho'
I'm gettin' rich too hollerin' out Calhoun know nigga
Nickeled and dimed and did dirt for dis
Do a show and sweat up my good shirt for dis
Snap back to toast I'll have to hurt for dis
So when I get me a lil' bit I'm a wear my shit

And if I lose it, I ain't gon' cry about it
I ain't no dummy God damn it I ain't about to die about it
But fuck wid me though, I'll let a few fly about it
Don't test me boy, because I about it!
So I'm the major money maker, mother fuck these niggaz
Keep yo' eyes on amounts, accounts and some bankers
Get high, get fly, 'til you get it, gettin' by
Don't switch get krunk get drunk get rich

From the bottom to the top now it's hot; keepin' it heated
People about to see they chasin' after cash in the ass
Suckers crash on the blast from the past
Goodie Mo.B. Backbone and OutKast
Whatchu think this was, black?
Take your sorry ass watch me blow, turnin' my lyrics in the flow
This is how it go, and it go, perfect picture paintin'
Million dollar hold in the Cascade, in the shade
Well I see gon' get paid to dis, and find a wife to dis
I'm 'bout to cut, like a knife to dis
And find dat, and find dat, top top, we get rich to dis, yeah!

We peel out sideways
(Get rich to this)
We do a hundred on the highways
(Get rich to this)
Thank God for Friday's
(Get rich to this)
Say say say say!
(Get rich to this)

The Goodie they call me, they wanted a player to bust to this
I'm takin' this thing, slow slow motion just can't rush with this
We all in the family, what have we, I think we done found a freak hoe
People all in my wallet hopin' to frolic we gon' see hoe
Just hold up, you know my pockets swoll up
I'm a let you suck my dick to meet your quota
And you're fine, kinda shorter
But I made this money before you got a Toyota and Explorer

And when I'm off in the mall gettin' fresh, I'm gon' ignore ya
Look at the earrings, the gold chains, the diamonds around my neck piece
The leather suede snake Elizabeth all up on my left B
Hoe look at all these emeralds and these rubies and my gold teeth
Thinkin' a nigga spiritual tryin' to build but you don't know me
See there's more than meets the ear so we can ball that's if we chose to
Move back I'm droppin' the top and yes it's mine and gal it's new too

Sign yo' grill wid dis
Canary yellow bowlin' ball silk drawers wid dis
Crushed velvet diamond cut, y'all get wreck wid dis

Tonight, Gipp get woozy
Might step outside and might catch me a floozie
Some loozy double-stitched hoochie
Y'all chase records while we chase coochie

The realest Down South hot two, in your face like kabuki
Get krunk, don't be no lame brain top bank head
Props, I'm prayin' wid dis

Boys on the ave, flood shots to dis
Girls in the club flirt out to dis
State your name baby and get rich to dis

We peel out sideways
(Get rich to this)
We do a hundred on the highways
(Get rich to this)
Thank God for Friday's
(Get rich to this)
Say say say say!
(Get rich to this)

We peel out sideways
(Get rich to this)
We do a hundred on the highways
(Get rich to this)
Thank God for Friday's
(Get rich to this)
Hey hey hey hey!
(Get rich to this)
We peel out sideways
(Get rich to this)

Play the MP3 online for free!

3bbe345aa8b2b9007e0c5ad4012ac4ae

Get Ya Wicked On - Lyrics - Insane Clown Posse

Title: Get Ya Wicked On
Artist: Insane Clown Posse
Composer(s): Mike Puwal, Joseph Bruce, William Dail

Lyric:
I punch bitches in their fake titties, he does
I got warrants in like eight cities, he does
I like to murder those provokin', he does
I swing quick and leave a motherfucker's throat hangin' open

I drink the blood of a street rat, he does
Yo, Monox Boogie,where tha weed at?
I got eighteen plus speed
With a plus two dagger from the Tomb of Horrors, D and D

We cave heads in wit a brick, we do
We fuck hotties with tha same dick, we do
We eat power lines and generators, we do
One time we shut Detroit City off for like eleven hours

We the wickedest believe that, we do
Stevie Wonder-Bra can see that, shit he do
We'll rip your head off and swing it by the hair
Until we get blood everywhere, motherfucker getcha wicked on

We know you hate who we are but even in Shangri-La
A wicked clown gotta get their wicked on
JD the Weed Man with the Juggalo Crip Walk

We know you hate who we are but even in Shangri-la
A wicked clown gotta get their wicked on

I'll drive a tank through your high school, he does
I let the Carnival high rule, he does
I get sick like a crime story, he does
Motherfucker this tha Southwest Side ghetto territory

I can make a fist with your neck in it, he can
I need my medication every twenty minutes, he does
I store dead bodies all up under my house
And every night I hear 'em runnin' their mouth, they gettin' wicked on me

Day days on my black hearse, we do
Clown love Juggalos first, they do
Red and black skullcaps everywhere
With tha fresh face paint and the Twiztid hair

We find peace at the graveyard, we do
Me and the Wraith sit and play cards, we do
So move out of the way and get out of my path
Or we'll saw your head in half, motherfucker

Play the MP3 online for free!

6dbc0ef6cb328beb900e370b45c196b0

I'Ve Changed - Lyrics - Todd Smith - Ll Cool J

Title: I'Ve Changed
Album: Todd Smith
Artist: Ll Cool J
Composer(s): Ryan Toby, Samuel J Barnes, Jean-Claude Oliver, James Todd Smith

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

Lyric:
Just starin' at these four walls closin'
In on me, feelin' like time's frozen
Fadin' in and out, noddin' and dozin'
Guilt tearin' up my brain like erosion

What I did to you was wrong, I admit it
I regret that I did it like a junkie when he's jonzin'
All alone in what used to be a home
But you packed up our joy in that bag you put your clothes in

The voice mail that you left me was scoldin'
Hot enough to burn a hole in a cauldron
'Cause it was all true, that's why we all through
Now your girl's pickin' up the cell when I call you

Talkin' slick like she ain't here
She don't want you no more, punk disappear, click
I need to hit her with a brick
But that'll only lead me to a worse predicament

I hope your girlfriend ain't got you on a liquor binge
With her bitter attitude just 'cause she's sick of men
But I'ma keep on callin', fightin' 'til the end
On my knees 'til they bleed, to prove my love again

I sit in front of yo' crib in the pourin' rain
Whylin' out screamin' yo' name
And keepin' ringin' yo' bell 'til you mad as hell
And call the po'-po', I ain't afraid
(Yeah, yeah)

You can get yo' folks and yo' cousins and them
And try to run me off yo' blocka
But I ain't scared, I ain't goin' nowhere
And I ain't stoppin' 'til I gotcha to show you I changed shawty

I seen you at the movies with some tall cat
So I bust his headlights with a ball bat
When I was with you he would give me dap and all that
Now you in his arms in the mall, what you call that?

That's what I get for creepin' and crawlin'
Every other weekend gone until the mornin'
Sneakin' out to my dirt, dead wrong
Comin' back past dawn with the guilty mask on

And I never counted the cost, took heed to warnings
Try to hurt a rose you get pricked by a thorn
And it don't feel nice, when you wake up nights
Shakin' in cold sweats and your whole life's a wreck

That was the old me, the one I still regret
The one you couldn't respect, the one you should forget
But I'ma keep on callin', fightin' 'til the end
On my knees 'til they bleed, to prove my love again

I sit in front of yo' crib in the pourin' rain
Whylin' out screamin' yo' name
And keepin' ringin' yo' bell 'til you mad as hell
And call the po'-po', I ain't afraid
(Yeah, yeah)

You can get yo' folks and yo' cousins and them
And try to run me off yo' blocka
But I ain't scared, I ain't goin' nowhere
And I ain't stoppin' 'til I gotcha to show you I changed shawty
To show you I changed shawty

I really did change shawty
(I'm tellin' you I've changed)
I wanna show you I changed shawty
(I still love you)

I don't care if the cops got me surrounded
SWAT teams whatever, tell 'em to send the hounds in
My mind's in an altered state
Like I'm headed for a wall, top speed, foot off the brake

I make a fool of myself, girl whatever it takes
I already played the fool when I let you escape
You're as, good as it gets, your friendship your sex
Everything about you and yours connects

From your, beautiful smile to the scent of your skin
The sheets smell different, this is not livin'
It feels like dyin', and God knows I'm tryin'
Ain't no sight sadder than a grown man cryin'

Please find it in your heart to forgive me
Realize only God can convict me
We all make mistakes, so have you
If God show mercy on me, then you should too

I sit in front of yo' crib in the pourin' rain
Whylin' out screamin' yo' name
And keepin' ringin' yo' bell 'til you mad as hell
And call the po'-po', I ain't afraid
(Yeah, yeah)

You can get yo' folks and yo' cousins and them
And try to run me off yo' blocka
But I ain't scared, I ain't goin' nowhere
And I ain't stoppin' 'til I gotcha to show you I changed shawty
To show you I changed shawty

I really did change shawty
(I'm tellin' you I've changed)
I wanna show you I changed shawty
(I still love you)
Oww
(I'm tellin' you I've changed)

Play the MP3 online for free!

bda52953433bb3cd99871ad7f5678984