Attitude - Lyrics - Metallica

Title: Attitude
Artist: Metallica
Composer(s): Kirk L Hammett, James Alan Hetfield, Lars Ulrich

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Lyric:
1, 2, 3, 4

Suppose I say, I'm never satisfied
Suppose I say, he cuts the roots
To make the tree survive

Just let me kill you for a while
Just let me kill you for a smile
Just let me kill you once
I'm oh, so bored to death

Oh, I hunger
I hunger
I eat

Born into attitude
Asleep at the wheel
Throw all your bullets in the fire
And run like hell
Why cure the fever?
What ever happened to sweat?

Suppose I say, the vultures smile at me
Suppose I say, I sent them down
And they plan to pick you clean

And satisfaction this way comes
And satisfaction this way comes
And satisfactions here and gone
Gone, yeah, gone again

Oh, I hunger
Oh, I hunger
I eat

Born into attitude
Asleep at the wheel
Throw all your bullets in the fire
And stand there

Born into attitude
Twist mother tongue
Throw all your bullets in the fire
And run like hell
Why cure the fever?
What ever happened to sweat?

Just let me kill you for a while
Just let me kill you for a smile
Just let me kill you once for me
I'm bored to death

And satisfaction this way comes
And satisfaction this way comes
And satisfactions here and gone
Gone, gone again

Yeah, I hunger
Oh, I hunger
I eat

Born into attitude
Asleep at the wheel
Throw all your bullets in the fire
And stand there

Born into attitude
Twist mother tongue
Throwing all your bullets in the fire
And run like hell
Why cure the fever?
What ever happened to sweat?

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fc74ad66638c6c29e52e7b21191f012d

Big Ole Butt - Lyrics - Ll Cool J

Title: Big Ole Butt
Artist: Ll Cool J
Composer(s): B Latture, Dwayne Emil Simon, James Todd Smith

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Lyric:
I was at the mall, sippin' on a milkshake
Playin' the wall, takin' a break
Admirin' the girls with the bamboo earings
Baby hair and bodies built to swing
That's when I seen her
Her name was Tina
Grace and poise kinda like a ballerina
I said, "How you doin', my name's Big L
Don't ask me how I'm livin', 'cause, yo, I'm living swell
But then again I'm livin' kind of foul
'Cause my girl don't know that I'm out on the prowl"
To make a long story short, I got the digits
Calls her on my car phone and paid her a visit
I was spankin' her and thankin' her, chewin' her and doin' her
Layin' like a king on sheets of satin
That's what time it is, you know what's happenin'
She had a big ole booty, I was doin' my duty
I mean, yo, I admit that my girl's a cutie
But Tina was erotic, Earl's my witness
With the kind of legs that put stockings out of business
When I went home, I kissed my girl on the cheek
But in the back of my mind it was this big butt freak
I sat my girl down, I couldn't hold it in
And said to her with a devilish grin

TINA got a big ole butt
I know I told you I'd be true
But TINA got a big ole butt
So I'm leavin' you
TINA got a big ole butt
I know I told you I'd be true
But TINA got a big ole butt
So I'm leavin' you

I went to the high school about three o'clock
To try to catch a cutie ridin' my jock
My homeboy's jeep, the system blastin'
Cold forty dogs, smilin' and laughin'
Girls all over, the kind I adore
I felt like a kid in a candy store
That's when I seen her
Her name was Brenda
She had the kind of booty that I'd always remember
I said to my man, "Stop the jeep"
She's only senteen but, yo, don't sleep
I kicked the bass like an NFL punter
And scoped the booty like a big game hunter
I said to the girl, "Yo, you look tired
Let's go get some rest, relax by the fire"
I put the big booty on a bearskin rug
She gave me a kiss, I have her a hug
I said to the girl, "them young boys ain't nothin'
You want to get freaky, let me kiss your belly button"
I circled it and teased it and made her squeal
Grabbed a pack of bullets and pulled out the steel
When I was through, I wiped the sweat from my eyes
When to the kitchen and got some sweet potato pies
Tina busted in my house while I was eatin'
You know what I said
Too bad you caught me cheatin', but

BRENDA got a big ole butt
I know I told you I'd be true
But BRENDA got a big ole butt
So I'm leavin' you
BRENDA got a big ole butt
I know I told you I'd be true
But BRENDA got a big ole butt
So I'm leavin' you

I went to Red Lobster for shrimp and steak
Around the time whe the waitress are on their lunch break
I pulled in the parkin' lot and parded my car
Somebody shouted out, "I don't care who you are"
I paid it no attention, I walked inside
Because Brian had a nine and he was chillin' in the ride
I walked in the place, everybody was lookin'
And shrimp and steak wasn't the only thing cookin'
I sat down to eat, ordered my food
I said to the waitress, "I don't men to be rude
But I'll take you on a platter"
She said, "You got a girl," I said, "It don't matter
You look like you're tastier than a pipin' hot pizza
What's your name?" She said, "My tag says Lisa"
I said, "O.K., you're smart and all that
But when you get off work, yo, I'll be back"
She looked at me and said, "Make yourself clear
L, where we going?" I said, "Right here"
She looked kind of puzzled, I said, "You'll see"
I pulled up at ten on the D.O.T
When she walked out the door, I threw my tongue down her throat
Pushed her back inside and pulled off her coat
Laid her on the table and place my order
And habe her a tip much bigger than a quarter
On and on to the break 'a dawn
All over the restaurant, word is born
I heard somebody coughin', I checked my watch
I couldn't believe it said nine o'clock
I grabbed my pants, put on my Kangol
Who did I see, Oh, yo, it was Brenda
Yo, she worked at Red Lobster but I didn't remember

LISA got a big ole butt
I know I told you I'd be true
But LISA got a big ole butt
So I'm leavin' you
See ya
LISA got a big ole butt
I know I told you I'd be true
But LISA got a big ole butt
So I'm leavin' you
See ya

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b81fbc9d60d3c5d632a16099f6e38d06

Cry Babies - Lyrics - Ludacris

Title: Cry Babies
Artist: Ludacris
Composer(s): Chris Bridges, Kaseem Dean

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Lyric:
Oh no, I caught him with a blow to the chest
Oh no, my hollow put a hole in his vest
Oh no, I'm 'bout to send two to his dome
Oh no, cry babies go home

Oh no, I caught him with a blow to the chest
Oh no, my hollow put a hole in his vest
Oh no, I'm 'bout to send two to his dome
Oh no, cry babies go home

I got people scared as fuck like when condoms break
Or how your heart deals with eatin' eighty pounds of steak
So put your belly on a plate and watch your weight
You frostin' like a flake and Ludacris feels great

Who want come face me, face come want who?
And women give me face until they're face turns blue
They can't breathe, dick to mouth resuscitation
A tight squeeze witch stops the length to conversations

I play stations, duck cops and lose agents
I'm doctor love, I close curtains and fuck patients
When I kick and rip and flip an indispensable rhyme
My black ass is so hungry I'll take a bite out of crime

And it'll hurt if I swallow, but even more if I choke
Neighbors called the fire station off the blunt that I smoke
You see I crush cowards, funerals I'll send flowers
And I'm on the overpass flick pennies at rush hour

Oh no, I caught him with a blow to the chest
Oh no, my hollow put a hole in his vest
Oh no, I'm 'bout to send two to his dome
Oh no, cry babies go home

Oh no, I caught him with a blow to the chest
Oh no, my hollow put a hole in his vest
Oh no, I'm 'bout to send two to his dome
Oh no, cry babies go home

You see I'm ambidextrous, I slap ass with both hands
Delete your first steps, but I'll save the last dance
I just bought some new guns my mama said "It ain't worth it"
But I'm at the shooting range just 'cause practice makes perfect

Bullseye, I stunt growth and stop lives
And you run with niggas that's more chicken then pot pies
I'm shakin' your tale feathers
I got big balls, I'm a Sac King like Chris Webber

Luda' will take you back to duck hunt and double dribble
When niggas sold quarters and dimes and smoked nickels
My cars got big TV's and satellites
I got a wheel of fortune 'cause I flipped O's like Vanna White

And the survey says? Kill a muthafucka now
Could it be off with his head? Or shoot a muthafucka down
Ground round, ground chuck your ground beef
Bullets gather round then I shoot rounds around teeth

Oh no, I caught him with a blow to the chest
Oh no, my hollow put a hole in his vest
Oh no, I'm 'bout to send two to his dome
Oh no, cry babies go home

Oh no, I caught him with a blow to the chest
Oh no, my hollow put a hole in his vest
Oh no, I'm 'bout to send two to his dome
Oh no, cry babies go home

I kick niggas in they're ass reboot 'em like laptops
And they wouldn't even box if I gave 'em a flat top
You punks pucker and pout, bicker and babble
Now they all lost for words like I beat 'em in scrabble

You see I'm from a small town called "Fresh out a cop's ass"
Where Mr. Head-potatoes are skinned they get mashed
I smell puss from fifty yards, y'all not playin' with full decks
As if I jacked out ya jacks and left fifty cards

Catch me in Vegas spinnin' the green
I re-up with more chips than a vending machine
Then you can catch me in Rome mackin' some brauds and sticking 'em
And you'll be at home picking your bougars and flicking 'em

A drug dealer's dream, so fresh and I'm so clean
I'm a grown ass man and you're sweeter than sixteen
So go and kick rocks peons you're just rookies
Headed down stairs to get you some milk and cookies

Oh no, I caught him with a blow to the chest
Oh no, my hollow put a hole in his vest
Oh no, I'm 'bout to send two to his dome
Oh no, cry babies go home

Oh no, I caught him with a blow to the chest
Oh no, my hollow put a hole in his vest
Oh no, I'm 'bout to send two to his dome
Oh no, cry babies go home

Oh no, I caught him with a blow to the chest
Oh no, my hollow put a hole in his vest
Oh no, I'm 'bout to send two to his dome
Oh no, cry babies go home

Oh no, I caught him with a blow to the chest
Oh no, my hollow put a hole in his vest
Oh no, I'm 'bout to send two to his dome
Oh no, cry babies go home

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3d6e1b361061b7e5b5136f8e5236083c

Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee - Lyrics - 1200 Curfews - Indigo Girls

Title: Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee
Album: 1200 Curfews
Artist: Indigo Girls
Composer(s): Buffy Sainte-Marie

Lyric:
Indian legislation's on the desk of a do right Congressman
And he don't know much about the issues
So he picks up the phone and asks the advice
Of the senator out in Indian country
A darling of the energy companies
They're ripping off, what's left of the reservation

I learned the safety rule
I don't know who to thank
Don't stand between the reservation
And the corporate bank
They're sendin' federal tanks
It isn't nice but it's reality

Bury my heart at wounded knee
Deep in the earth
I said, cover me with pretty lies
Bury my heart at wounded knee

They got these energy companies
Who want to take the land
And they got churches by the dozens
Tryin' to guide our hands
And turn our Mother Earth
Over to pollution, war and greed

Well, bury my heart at wounded knee
(Bury my heart at wounded knee)
I said, deep in the earth
(Bury my heart at wounded knee)

Won't you ca-cover me with your pretty lies
(Bury my heart at wounded knee)
Bury my heart at wounded knee
(Bury my heart at wounded knee)

We get the Federal Marshals
We get the covert spies
We get the liars by the fire, get the FBI
They lie in court and get nailed
And still Leonard Peltier goes off to jail
The bullets don't match the gun

(Bury my heart at wounded knee)
An eighth of the reservation
(Bury my heart at wounded knee)
And was transferred in secret
(Bury my heart at wounded knee)
Got your murder and intimidation
(Bury my heart at wounded knee)

My girlfriend Anna May
Talked about Uranium
Her head was full of bullets
And her body dumped
The FBI cut off hands and told us
She died of exposure, yeah right

Bury my heart at wounded knee
(Bury my heart at wounded knee)
Deep in the earth
(Bury my heart at wounded knee)

Won't you cover me with pretty lies
(Bury my heart at wounded knee)
Bury my heart at wounded knee
(Bury my heart at wounded knee)
I talk about a revolution

We had the gold rush wars
Why didn't we learn to crawl?
And now our history gets written in a liar's scrawl
They tell me "Honey you can still be an Indian
Down at the Y on Saturday night''

Bury my heart at wounded knee, hey
(Bury my heart at wounded knee)
I said deep in your earth
(Bury my heart at wounded knee)

You can cover me with all your pretty lies
(Bury my heart at wounded knee)
Bury my heart at wounded knee
(Bury my heart at wounded knee)

Bury my heart
(It was an eighth of the reservation)
Bury my heart
(Yeah, was transferred in secret)
Bury my heart
(Yeah, got your murder, murder, murder and intimidation)
Bury my heart
(Bury me, bury me, bury me)

Bury my heart
Bury my heart
Bury my heart
Bury my heart

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Drag Shit - Lyrics - Drag On

Title: Drag Shit
Artist: Drag On
Composer(s): David Styles, Mel Jason Smalls, Darrin Dean, Kasseem Dean

Lyric:
I make my block move like earthquakes, they call me Sandman
'Cuz while I smoke this up, I got coke to cut
Leavin' niggas so doped up, they chokin' off they throw up
Can't even see straight, leanin' like they need V8

Nigga call A G eighth, jail I can't see me in
A year's too long it's only shorter you got three in
I run with niggas on the run from 25
Y'all only heard me for 18 months, already I wanna spray shit up

Keep braggin' about your cars I'ma see drama before it happens
When I roll up hard, you wonder what the fuck cab I'm in
'Cuz I can pop up and peel back and all I can promise is peel caps
With holes, like the bullets was damn near pose

I see your Lex duped out, your sunroof's out
Now look at me droppin' three in your dome two to your mouth
Leave a nigga head blowin' his horn, with his signals on
Don't lie before a snitch call cops I'm fall blocks

See I spit hard 'cuz I know that's what y'all want
Y'all ain't said it first, I'm droppin' with a odor out my trunk
Now what the hell is that, you smell that?
All you see is a shoelace teared up from the back

Like I'm fishtailin' a AC
And who I sound like? C'mon dog my voice drown mics
But nigga don't compare, stop talkin' and come here
You know where I be at, BX and nigga bring that
I already got mine, the only difference I pop mine nigga

Ruff Ryder nigga, carry the pound
Get engaged with these bullets, then marry the ground
Drag dash on the fire is real
We don't talk about guns, we will pop our steel

You don't sound like us, get down like us
Make a nigga mom frown like us, we Ruff Ryde
Till I say enough died, I'ma still bust mine
Finished with the pound, then I'm startin' with the nine

I don't sound close to niggas, niggas runnin' around
Rollercoasting niggas, I make post of niggas
When I put the toast to niggas
Let me see y'all niggas run, 'cuz when I tote float niggas
And deep throat niggas

Spit flame, drop of a dime, drop of a quarter
I'm the real reason why niggas rush the border
They don't plea 'bout they freedom, they just wanna see him
So I can speak words to tease 'em, and mislead 'em

To have 'em smuggle me guns, smuggle me drugs
Fuckin' with thugs, cuttin' niggas up just out of love
Drag buy guns in New York, hell naw
I got Cubans send me Cuban cigars for these bars

So fuck y'all 'cuz all I could tell y'all the rest is no tax
I'm fire so y'all could never be no macks
Last nigga touched that couldn't get his skin back
Came in in all white, left out in all black

When I pop mine, my bullets ignore stop signs
So when you feel a burnin' sensation, know it's clock time
You know like 2 to 6, or 3 to 9
9 to 12 and under that, ain't nothin' but shells

Pick 'em up, throw 'em right at myself
Tell a kid this is for every bad month that daddy sent to hell
Those that wanna be like, shoulda just been Mike
And when you see me in the streets, we could do it like Nike

Ruff Ryder nigga, carry the pound
Get engaged with these bullets, then marry the ground
Drag dash on the fire is real
We don't talk about guns, we will pop our steel

You don't sound like us, get down like us
Make a nigga mom frown like us, we Ruff Ryde
Till I say enough died, I'ma still bust mine
Finished with the pound, then I'm startin' with the nine

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5901d3a48b66829b8023f6ac4e2af245

D-X-L (Hard White) - Lyrics - And Then There Was X - Dmx

Title: D-X-L (Hard White)
Album: And Then There Was X
Artist: Dmx
Composer(s): David Styles, Earl Simmons, Mel Jason Smalls, Damon Blackmon, Jason Phillips, Sean Jacobs

Lyric:
Holiday styles
Bitch, I get you shot in the head or shot in the neck
If I ain't gettin' proper respect
I don't care if you rap, I still spit in your grill
I don't give a fuck, never have, never will

If it ain't on your hip, then you're lookin' to die
I ain't tryin' to be the nigga that's gonna look at the sky
Ask God why I'm broke, bitch, I'm cooking the pie
We all gon' die, sooner or later, matter of time

My niggaz sell crack, with a package of dimes
Hundred or more, in front of the store, waitin' to bubble
Brand new nine, and an eight in a bubble
I put sixteen above ya neck, I love my set

Niggaz think they a thug, then thug to death
(Uh-huh)
'Cause the P gonna squeeze till no slugs is left
(What)
You know I'm good with a hundred of 'dro, gun and an O
You think your shit butter? Hop in front of this toast

Yo, aiyyo, aiyyo
I say what I want, fuck what y'all think is cool
And I hate cops, 'cause most y'all was dicks in school
No pussy gettin' niggaz tryin' to cuff the God
Play Sheik out in the yard, but that shit too hard

My dough too long, nowadays my flow too strong
What y'all make in a year, I kick that for a song
Check my car, I don't care, I don't play fair
Keep some shit in the stash box, then get me the chair

And it don't buck shot and the blast is hard to hear
I'm a true thug nigga, bring it straight to your crew
Small yell when I rap, I'm basically talkin' to you
You see the pain in my eye? Nigga, the flame in my eye?

I'm tryin' to leave my kids some real fuckin' change when I die
From rappin' or tellin' some cat to reach for the sky
I'm that hunt down nigga, with the four pound nigga
Bounty hunt your whole crew till my bullets go through, what?

Yo, yo, yo, yo all I need is a big gun and a Coupe that's crazy quick
A nice house with five rooms, maybe six
A town where money is coming, eighty bricks
Break 'em down to all twenties, is a crazy flip

Bet you never even felt the heat
Till I put the M1 next to your waves and melt the grease
Streets help niggaz, niggaz don't help the streets
Y'all use beats for help, we help the beats

Who want it with me? Who want it with Sheek? Who want it with P?
If I say so myself, it's a wonderful three
Be in the hood with all your jewels in the glove box
Same niggas that-a rob you love L.O.X.
(Uh)

All types of burners, even snub glocks
(Uh)
Nice size tecs you could carry in your sweats
(Uh)
Find your man dead in the trunk of a car
(Uh)
It's Jada responsible for breakin' your heart
(Uh)
Uh

Creep through the streets
For some of y'all rappers, that's mighty hard
Me the Security? Protectin' my body? I let my shotty guard
Put chill pills in brains, bullets like Tylenol
Make niggaz drowsy from the blood loss, got 'em noddin' off

And take casket naps, fuck that you shoulda never let this bastard rap
All I know is cold winter, hot slugs through your snorkel
No parents, tale from my horror's no morals

Raised in the wrong era, with no guidance
So you dyin'? It's no problem, no lyin'
Drag's fire, so ya hamburger beef? I french-fry 'em
To drag done ate your food

Like I know to raise your dukes so guard your chin up
Drag barrels, but shit, I spit-bubble your skin up
Drag scorch niggaz for dinner but season 'em well
I don't brag I let the streets tell po'-po' now you see he fell

Uh, uh, now you motherfuckers
Know what my name means when you hear it in the streets
(Uh)
Y'all bitches fear it cause you weak
You wanna hear it? I make it speak
(What?)
You ain't ever bust a gun, but there's a lot of greasy talkin'
(Uh-huh)
What the science behind that son?
(I don't know)
A lot of easy walkin'

I bust shit down got down kick down shot down
(uh,uh, uh, uh )
Ain't tryin' to talk about what I got now, but I got now
(What)
I ain't never sold a brick, I done stuck niggaz up
(C'mon)
And for talkin' too much shit? I done fucked niggaz up
(Uh)

It can get "Dark" for real, and I think you already know that
(Uh-huh)
Well think about it with the brick in your hand before you throw that
Now don't act, cause actin' might get you rollin'
With what you ain't ready to handle
(Uhh)
All that's left of your memory, is a candle
(Woo!)

It happens quick fast nigga, to bitch ass niggaz
Talkin' reckless behind your back, them kiss ass niggaz
(Uh)
From the rap shit to the street shit, I keep shit tight
Let them cats spit that weak shit
(What)
I'm dog for life, nigga

They gon' need extra guns and extra blocks
(They wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde)
They gon' need extra jails and extra cops
(They wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde)
They gon' need extra pits and extra glocks
(They wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde)
They gon' need extra chains and extra watches
(They wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde)

They gon' need extra guns and extra blocks
(They wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde)
They gon' need extra jails and extra cops
(They wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde)
They gon' need extra pits and extra glocks
(They wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde)
They gon' need extra chains and extra watches
(They wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde)

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6769e3850a30d9b086bf78a0068a65f0

It'S A Killer - Lyrics - Lynyrd Skynyrd

Title: It'S A Killer
Artist: Lynyrd Skynyrd
Composer(s): Gary Robert Rossington, Donnie Van Zant, Johnny Van Zant, Edward King

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Lyric:
There's a rumor goin' 'round on the backside of town
Jake is out to get some revenge
Has fire in his eyes since his brother died
Shot down by a so-called friend

For a fifty dollar gram is what the neighbors say
Drugs had control of his life
Caught up on crack you're tryin' to think back
The devil had him hooked you could see it in his eyes
It's a killer

There's a cold house at the corner of the street
The kids come and go there at night
Jerry drove up in front of the house
Somebody pulled out a knife

Jerry freaked out and went for his gun
Shot him right between the eyes
All he ever wanted was a twenty dollar high
But now he's locked up for the rest of his life

It's a killer there's no way out, baby, once you're in
It's a killer steal from your family
Then you'll turn on your friends
It's a killer, it can happen to you

So don't you never, never give in
It's a killer

The neighborhood I used to call home
These days it's lookin' like a war zone
Unemployment on the rise
But the black market thrives

Money just keeps changin' hands
The laws are gettin' tough
Sometimes it's not enough
To satisfy supply and demand

Trouble breaks out, there's fightin' in the streets
Bullets flyin' all around
An innocent child caught in the line of fire
All because there weren't enough drugs to go around

It's a killer there's no way out, baby, once you're in
It's a killer steal from your family
Then you'll turn on your friends
It's a killer, it can happen to you

It's a killer there's no way out, baby, once you're in
It's a killer steal from your family
Then you'll turn on your friends
It's a killer, it can happen to you

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7136ec38f0b054edb17466c4e624c4c1

Nighttime Vultures - Lyrics - Hell On Earth - Mobb Deep

Title: Nighttime Vultures
Album: Hell On Earth
Artist: Mobb Deep
Composer(s): Albert J Johnson, Kejuan W Muchita, Corey Woods

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

Lyric:
Yo I rose early mornin' spread my wings yawnin'
Vague memory of last night now it's all dawnin'
Look down and see dry blood all on my garment
It stained all my guess farmer's colored enormous

I hopped up outta my bed holdin' my head
Flashbacks of gun shots shot past my head
I can recall an eight man brawl three men fall
Bullets flew I had to drug my man behind a wall

Left a wet trail, delivered these slugs like air mail
Directly at the cat that made my man blood spill
An eye for an eye you know my science of life
Is you man or mice thugs or the cowardly type

I kick the 98 shit for your ears to list
Nigga P where you headed it's time to pass kids
(What's the kids be doin' yo)
Kickin' rhymes that's true lies

Let me break 'em down to size minimize they air air time
After this you never will go back to that which
Sit back an' write half ass shit
The last official takin' out the artificial
Let me relieve you replace that shit with some lethal

Mobb, remember the name it's been along
That nigga's shook to death from the first fuckin' song
Fluidly my mind flooded with jewels infinite
The kinda rap bandits in attics stuck on some live shit

Bear witness to this diligent street cat
I carry myself hold myself down in fact
This one dedicated to my niggaz on run
Holdin' big gats go for your gun

Prepare to crush them we trust none
Man who ain't down with the clan
The Mobb dynasty apparently you thought I was some other type
Nigga you could fuck with you shit outta luck

Boss I break your compass throw you way off course
We buildin' from ground up startin' from ground zero
Mafia on da see the name upon the mirror
Durable physically fit raps articulate

You get your whole skeleton
Cracked somethin' ridiculous
Still fascinated by my site
Little P wanna be me, uh you no D

One time son you know we be the illest in this
Push the shit back, QBC gat, plottin' to move back
The big mouth cat ship will sink to the bottom
Easily overthrowin' niggaz, rollin' over niggaz

Yo, crushed grills, dollar bills, swiss suit on
Screw on dry sell nigga with his loot on
Watch this, gun glock less, fiends scopin' out my rock shit
Diamond on some H and R Block shit

Hear me, gets Larry and his sneakers are shot
Word to me Dunn, the uniform do mean a lot
I approach lit up cousin sit up matter of fact get up
What fuss on the bottom face slit up

Yeah where you from I'm from here
You know Brina and Javier, and Little Life doin' thirty years
Analyzin' this wise guy a look alike first prize guy
Lit up the Thai said right

Emotionally playin' him close like I'm supposed to be
Somethin' spoke to me, it was this little nigga pokin' me
I heard sirens now turn around about to hit 'em
Son was pro nine with the emblem

Grabbed my goose down the walkie-talkie
Foul I'm loose now shot went off knocked the juice down
It ricocheted and hit a GS now here comes EMS
Dunn was leanin' near a ZX next time shits parental
God slap fire out yer mental jet in a boat with rims to mental

One time son you know we be the illest in this
Push the shit back, QBC gat, plottin' to move back
The big mouth cat ship will sink to the bottom
Easily overthrowin' niggaz, rollin' over niggaz

One time son you know we be the illest in this
Push the shit back, QBC gat, plottin' to move back
The big mouth cat ship will sink to the bottom
Easily overthrowin' niggaz, rollin' over niggaz

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3c700b6c8320cd879ba63db0f7834dac

Bitter - Lyrics - Stoned Raiders - Cypress Hill

Title: Bitter
Album: Stoned Raiders
Artist: Cypress Hill
Composer(s): Louis Freese, Lawrence Muggerud

Lyric:
I lost my innocence at birth but I make no excuses
For the trivial things and the pain life induces
Bitches are wild and so was I, young and stupid
It's incredible, what a shitty circumstance produces them

Criminals, led by the originals, high strung
Motivated by the principles
Some of us out, he used to think we were invincible
On the corner bangin' and slangin' the high bitual

Deadly rituals fill my head, nothin' spiritual
Bullets filled up bodies like hands from my physical
I got touched by the hot hands of bitter fools
Divided and tempted snake bitten by the ridicule

Frustration and hate filled my adrenaline
I play doctors here's two bullets for your medicine
I carry those days like a weapon close to me
The memories of hot lead rippin' a hole through me

Son, fill your heater, how 'bout chase killer
Rock 'em up and show you're no quitter
Snakes' pit every ground I landed on
Hated on but I'm still standin' strong

You hate the songs that you pump up all day long
Hated on but I'm still standin' strong
Snakes' pit, every ground I landed on
Hated on but I'm still standin' strong
Stand

So many, come and go in this lifetime that you serve
Faces change, liscenses everywhere you turn
Gangsta's become blinded and visions become blurred
Learned to stay alive to the real side of the curb

You came a long way but some still refuse to notice
They turned they back on us and they tried to provoke us
You ask about us, you talk trash about us
Walk fast around us but my block fast allowed us

Don't try to crowd us nigga, we'll smack you up
Look around and see who's willin' to back you up
You're in a ghost town and home alone like Macaulay nigga
Don't say my name nigga, don't even think of me

Fire start spittin' from my grill piece, ya scorched up, touched up
I'm the C4 that blew up your porch
I spit venom quicker than the punch on your Porsche
Venom so deadly I'll make your fuckin' life divorce ya

Ask for Alamoney, bitches, you all phoney
I'll make you sing the blues like you're Paulpau Coloney
Go ask Moley, you in the middle of shit
And anything you say I'll be known the shit

The force drops hits a ball, makin' me die of laughter
Because I know what these son-of-a-bitches are after
Your mind and soul, if your blind and cold
Then your true sign is shown, then your fuckin' mind is blown

Son, fill your heater, how 'bout chase killer
Rock 'em up and show you're no quitter
Snakes' pit every ground I landed on
Hated on but I'm still standin' strong

You hate the songs that you pump up all day long
Hated on but we're still standin' strong
Snakes' pit, every ground I landed on
Hated on but I'm still standin' strong
Stand

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02168083903a5401399124a33e27cf5b

Bnk - Lyrics - Bone Thugs N Harmony

Title: Bnk
Artist: Bone Thugs N Harmony
Composer(s): Steven Howse, Charles Scruggs, Stanley Howse, J Moore, Anthony Henderson, L T Hutton, Eric Wright

Lyric:
Black nigga killa, killa, killa, killa
Black nigga killa, killa, killa, killa
Black nigga killa, killa, killa, killa
Black nigga killa, killa, killa, killa

Black nigga killa, hate brought death around the block
As a hollow point bust through the punk's back
Raisin' Cain, feel no pain as I penetrate
Nigga five deep as I strike at a quick pace

I got the evil of my dead nigga trapped in my mind
So my soul is a threat to all mankind
Born to kill, I'm wicked by nature
'Cause the streets of my neighborhood breed young hellraisers

A 3006 with the scope I make a skinhead brain bust
All across the West Coast
Muthafuckas catchin' heat as I bring anger
And release more danger from my chamber

The evil in my blood is possessed
So I creep low from the back slow and push lead through that nigga's flesh
Ain't no hope when every nigga wants to be the nine-milla
On the trigger, the black nigga killa

We be the mighty warrior, black nigga killa, what's up?
You ready to die? You think you can fuck with them thug niggas?
Come on, tell me the truth, nigga, look in my eyes, bitch, we get live
Bone Thugs-N-Harmony, nigga, Cleveland's thuggish ruggish

Niggas still down with the thug shit
Buck, buck, bust, let 'em know we still run this bitch
Just like an assassin say, nigga, we nice but can get nasty
Get into war, what else can it be?

Nigga, you know what we came here for
You know, when we shot through the door
My niggas was serious, playin' no jokes
Just 'cause I'm a rapper, you thought it's for show?

Okay nigga let's see if this a real fo'-fo'
You thought we was studio, saw us on video
Seen us in person so here we go
What is your problem?

Here come the bullets, better dodge 'em
I sneaks up behind, so I'm fuckin' with killas
Nigga, don't make me kill ya
Got a body bag for any you bitches thinkin' you realer

Since, we some killers for sure
Hit 'em up, hit 'em hard, if you ready to roll
Niggas out tryin' to fuck with us
But I'm givin' you one warnin' that's a no-no

'Cause I got what you need if you are ready
To die, to die, to die, nigga, bye bye
Shots might be fired, yep everybody gon' run?
Naw, shootin' at me? Better hit me or one day
Fire! Here I come, come
And you don't wanna see, we like that
'Cause everybody pack guns, but Bone go pap pap

Really just out for the money, y'all
Really won't hurt none of y'all
But playas went too far so I say
"Fuck y'all, fuck y'all, y'all, y'all haters
All, y'all, y'all, y'all haters"

Black nigga killa, killa, killa, killa
Black nigga killa, killa, killa, killa
Black nigga killa, killa, killa, killa
Black nigga killa, killa, killa, killa

I'm servin' these bitches daily
I'm a black nigga killa, that's what you can label me
Unfadable, see? You don't really wanna fuck with us
You can't touch us, you ain't able

Rest in peace flesh creep
And sneak with a street sweeper
Niggas don't ever know what hit 'em, I split 'em
And snatch they soul like the Reaper

Have you ever seen a killer
Dressed in a trench coat sold over a hundred pounds?
Rollin', downin' a fifth of Rose when I stroll
And who wanna fuck with me now?

Lay 'em all down when I creep
Through your town and clown
I bet you feela this nigga behind the trigger, clack back
Stack, that black nigga killa

Nigga, you know what Bone be sayin'
Rollin' with big guns, ain't no playin'
Stayin' down for the murda mo', slayin'
Aw, shit, just to let you know, man, that 187 for realer
We black nigga killas and down to ride for E
He'd a ride for me, and that's the way it's gon' be
N.W.A, nigga B-O-N-E

All around the world most dangerous groups marchin' like troops
Lace your boots, be ready to shoot
'Cause if you ain't then a bullet might hit you
Picture yourself in a coffin so stiff and cold full of formaldehyde
Better scatter, dodge 'fore this bullet lodged in your ass, simply for the cash

Been around the world, seen so many faces and so many places
Aced this game, while they try to erase this daily basis
Gimme my space, shit, show me some love, though
Just pump your fist in the air and holler, "Mo!" Could you do me that?

And I'll hit you back little nigga
Just wanna know where my thugs at
Some at the track on the back, oh, yes
Some niggas on corner 'round sellin' that crack

Some of my thugs grave long gone
Lot of my niggas' at home playin' Bone Could they rest in peace?
My niggas sleep Makaveli, Biggie Smalls, and Eazy-E T-Rock got shot
Lord bless his city that's why shoot, shoot 'em up
Shoot 'em up, shoot 'em up, shoot, shoot 'em up
Shoot 'em up always nigga, always that's why I shoot 'em up

Black nigga, killa, killa, killa, killa
Black nigga, killa, killa, killa, killa
Black nigga, killa, killa, killa, killa
...

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ff875d5bce10bb802dfff2f84613d246

Revolution - Lyrics - The Notorious K.I.M. - Lil' Kim

Title: Revolution
Album: The Notorious K.I.M.
Artist: Lil' Kim
Composer(s): G Jones, M Winans, Sean Combs, Kimberly Jones

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

Lyric:
S W nine millimeter, check
Long-nose double barreled rifle, check
Semi-automatic infrared laser beam shot, check
Alright Puff, I'm ready to go

Threw the clips around the shoulders, toasters in the holster
Kim let's go! Slow down bab' bro
You with the rap Rambo, Tony Montana
Here's a hammer, a camera and a 'Life After Death' bandanna

Here take it, in case I don't make it
'Cause if my life don't end, I'm damn sure gon' fake it
The way I see it, mmm, sexual
In the gunfight, two on three, you on me

Dawg, I got shit to make the world shake
One mistake, blaow, start a earthquake
Fuck them niggaz, them niggaz dust to me
And if I knock Cyrus off that's a plus for me

And the funny thing about it, I'm a bitch
And got niggaz runnin' from me, like the Olympics
And I told my man Gutter I'ma get him
And every shell I spit, is guaranteed to hit him, blaka

Pressure down below, fire in de hole
Lose control, got nowhere to go

I heard Cease and Puff callin' like the Holy Tabernacle
I'll be down in a minute, I'm drinkin' a Snapple

A Snapple? Bitch I got bombs and shit
Grenades and razor blades and alarms and shit
You better come on, girl, throw a hat on that weave
I'm tryin' to catch this nigga Cyrus, 'fore him an' his boys leave

They at this restaurant that serve African food
Where you allowed to smoke weed and the waiters is type rude
You see, I used to date this bitch from Botswana
Half-African but she looked like Madonna

Aiyyo check it, she had a tiger for a pet
I'll never forget, the restaurant is where we met
And her girlfriend Lizette, that bitch is a freak
I used to fuck her in the ass while my girl was asleep

And she the one who told me where these cats is at
I can't wait to get the gat and holla back, Kim c'mon

Pressure down below, fire in de hole
Lose control, got nowhere to go

We came to a red light, gave right-of-way to pedestrians
Two black and white lesbians
The nigga Puff ready to holla at these bitches
I'm like, "Yo Dawg, them bitches down with them niggaz"

And never would the drugs make the bitch slack up
I got hit men, spreaded through the restaurant for backup
And we communicate through headsets and walkie-talkies
Them niggaz just bitches like my Yorkie

Pigs like to forfeit, we on point like snipers
Cyrus and his Doolies, is Clueless like the movies
All I can think about, is how he killed my man Smiles
Cut his head off, masochist style

Yeah, Cyrus did it, Cyrus the Virus they call him
When I finish with him please, his name is Swiss Cheese
My main focus, is his right hand man Mouse
An' Sheisty and two-sided, profession dick rider

And his boys, they seem to be all on his dick
I mean the whole situation is really makin' me sick
And when Cyrus got up, and dipped off to the bathroom
We started suckin' niggaz up like a vacuum

Bullets flyin' nonstop, and bodies droppin'
Puff yelled, "Away", that's the cops then
My trigger finger started itchin'
Then Cyrus came spittin' from the kitchen
And next second, you missed it

Listen, it's soundin' like the 4th of July
Like the solar eclipse is lit right in the sky
I can't believe this guy, he won't fall over
Holes is in his body the size of cup holders

One more shot, he's over, shit Puff, I'm empty
But I'ma hold my breath, til he fall to his death
But he was helpless
This little kid squeezed off in his pelvis

Pressure down below, fire in de hole
Lose control, got nowhere to go

Pressure down below, fire in de hole
Lose control, got nowhere to go

Pressure down below, fire in de hole
Lose control, got nowhere to go

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f1aafe480017fb8a441c5903c6054275

Niggas Die 4 Me - Lyrics - Drag On

Title: Niggas Die 4 Me
Artist: Drag On
Composer(s): Mel Smalls, Earl Simmons, Kaseem Dean

Lyric:
Uh, let's go
Whoo, drag-On baby
Come on

My niggas is the niggas that'll ride with me
My niggas is the niggas gettin' high with me
My niggas is the niggas that'll die with me
And we can get it on

My niggas is the niggas that'll ride with me
My niggas is the niggas gettin' high with me
My niggas is the niggas that'll die with me
And we can get it on

Rigga niggas wanna see the dog nigga bite
But this kid Drag strike a light
Fuck five mics, my fire burn the wire
'Cause we the niggas that plug, wrap 'em in the rug

Flames mini blowin' on my hands like dust
Chicks wanna slurp? I guarantee I'll make ya burp
Just push yo' teeth to the curb and hum a word
Some nerve, cats think they can touch a torch

You don't know I buy my gun just for me to toss
Fuck what it costs, I don't care what kind of drop you pushin'
I put my fifteen to your top and dump bullets
Yeah, I see y'all cowards like to wear vests

Well, I'ma aim a little higher, like for your neck
I puff lye, I'ma lift blunts 'til my arm look like Popeye
'Til the day is bye-bye 'til then 300G fly by, rented
So foggy windows look tinted

We just be lookin' at your Roley at dem hot shows
So go 'head boy, get drunk, pop that Mo'
Until I pull ya to the side, see the nine kid?
And since you got that nice watch, you know what time it is

'Cause Drag's clock say 7:30
So sudden move and you gon' be left somewhere real dirty, dirty
Double R, a camp where it's all champs
And if y'all want to stop fire, open up a damn

My niggas is the niggas that'll ride with me
My niggas is the niggas gettin' high with me
My niggas is the niggas that'll die with me
And we can get it on

My niggas is the niggas that'll ride with me
My niggas is the niggas gettin' high with me
My niggas is the niggas that'll die with me
And we can get it on

Bet'cha niggas wonder
Why Drag always spit fire? Why I always pop shit?
About how I burn niggas 'til they chocolate
'Cause I'm the 'Opposite of H2O', now ya know

Fix your wrinkled face, my iron press more than clothes
And girls, I love 'em when I meet 'em, might eat 'em
But when they act up, it's like Turner Tina
Don't me get the burner

Catch me in the low key Pontiac Sun sippin' Con-gac
Y'all know how that affects blacks, so you know I clash that
No way, I'ma blow all these gats and crack stacks
I'ma lil' nigga so you know I run fast

But don't do much of it do a lot of gun bustin'
'Cause when I let off a clip, I get a kick
Outta seeing niggas run, eyes open, hopin' they don't trip
Hear the echoes blocks away

Type of bricklayers that hear shots today and give your blocks away
Run up on papi, hey, drop the yay
And if he don't stall this world be popped tomorrow
Drag-On speaks with a stutter, but I rhyme well

So like a dead snitch it's hard to tell, dirty dirty, niggas, word
This is to my grimy grimy, niggas, word
This is to my RR, niggas, word
Yeah, 'cause we Double R, nigga, you heard? Come on

My niggas is the niggas that'll ride with me
My niggas is the niggas gettin' high with me
My niggas is the niggas that'll die with me
And we can get it on

My niggas is the niggas that'll ride with me
My niggas is the niggas gettin' high with me
My niggas is the niggas that'll die with me
And we can get it on

My niggas is the niggas that'll ride with me
My niggas is the niggas gettin' high with me
My niggas is the niggas that'll die with me
And we can get it on
...

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8030fca766fe8e967518292c21a7c42d

Of Fire - Lyrics - Death Metal - Dismember

Title: Of Fire
Album: Death Metal
Artist: Dismember
Composer(s): Rickard Hans Cabeza, David Sven Blomqvist, Matti Johani Karki

Lyric:
The night erupts with the sound of small arms fire
Tracer rounds snakes through the air
Signal flares fly towards the sky
Prepare yourself for another assault

I raise my gun and let lead fly
Living the horrors of war
Move 'em down left to right
I've tasted blood, now I want more

Screams of pain echoes through the night
As bullets find their targets
Mercilessly ripping through your flesh
Spraying intestines and bone all around

Into our trench they fall
The combat goes hand to hand
In a killing frenzy, I split someone's head
Comrade or enemy, I just don't care

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968f64a12b2035f313fbdca65889417b

Some Of Us Have Angels - Lyrics - Nastradamus - Nas

Title: Some Of Us Have Angels
Album: Nastradamus
Artist: Nas
Composer(s): Damon Blackmon, Nasir Jones

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

Lyric:
Some of us have angels, the kingdom, the power
Some of us have angels, the power, the glory
Some of us have demons, greed, and lust
Some of us have demons, lust, temptation

Some of us have angels, the kingdom, the power
Some of us have angels, the power, the glory
Some of us have demons, greed, and lust
Some of us have demons, lust, temptation

Now this is you, dressed in all black, fatigue hat, ready for combat
A good nigga, you don't leave tracks
A hood nigga wantin' G-stacks, do what you gotta do to get that
You feel you need that, where the jooks at?

These are your niggaz, creepin' they be leavin' niggaz sleep witchu
Loc' style, quiet no smile, it's the official
Sometime they grimy, speakin' on they own people
They snake you if they have to, raised tattoos

Now these are your bitches, phonin' lonely homey chickens
All the homies stick em, you think you own em man listen
She stab you in your sleep with a knife from out the kitchen
Put a root on you, next week they find you missin'

Dead in your expedition in the forest, fell off the cliff and
Tumbled 'til you blew up, Feds told her and she threw up
Fake bitches, actresses, wicked witch practices
Two sides of us, negative or positive

Some of us have angels, the kingdom, the power
Some of us have angels, the power, the glory
Some of us have demons, greed, and lust
Some of us have demons, lust, temptation

Now this is your mom, your good luck charm
Pushin' you to do no wrong, prayin' for you that you live long
Nobody kill my baby, but she know her baby crazy
In and out of jail, mom's screamin', "God take me"

This is your pop, chip off the old block that made him
The man of the house, mom and pops seperatin'
Spittin' image of a gangster the way pop walked
The way pop talked, got older and you thanked him now

This is your hood, poor folks drugs and robberies
Turnin' into the things moms wanted you not to be
Crime followin' the wrong dudes who have no values
Life's cheap as the dime in the minds of those around you

This is the test, the stress, the conflict the ups and downs of
Niggaz around you make threats
They tell you keep it gangster, no matter the predicament
Even though your decision won't help you benefit

Some of us have angels, the kingdom, the power
Some of us have angels, the power, the glory
Some of us have demons, greed, and lust
Some of us have demons, lust, temptation

Now once again this is you, entertainin' your desires
Bitches money and guns, aimin' and you fire
Everyday is grief, if it ain't beef, it's feedin' your seed
Tryin' to eat? You form material needs

The weed make your brain sizzle, a pistol make it cool off
By stickin' up niggaz, make them take they jewels off
His reputation is, bigger than his whole life span
He never planned to fail, he just failed to plan

What does it take to realize, Satan's alive, he whispers
And any chance he get, he can take niggaz
He comes in all shapes and sizes, his best disguise is
When he stand beside us, but God is inside us, within me

You are your worst enemy my mom's words echo in my head
And if I let go I'm dead
He stepped at my door, the motivate my spirit
And now the body experience, so now I feel it

Lookin' at my blessings, the bullets - that missed me coulda hit me
Them court cases coulda put me in the penitentiary
I never hate, that's just wasted energy
The past is gone, the present's a gift, so what's the mystery?

The future and time only reveals, what fear is
False expectations, appearin' real
We only human, love thy neighbor, so I was told
And I will 'til permanently, my eyes are closed

Some of us have angels, the kingdom, the power
Some of us have angels, the power, the glory
Some of us have demons, greed, and lust
Some of us have demons, lust, temptation

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bfcf3861b5ed9532b2e0f8c6c34e610e

Die Slow - Lyrics - Canibus

Title: Die Slow
Artist: Canibus
Composer(s): Germaine Williams, Ty Fyffe, George Rafeik

Lyric:
Yo
(Die slow)
Yeah
(Die slow)
Ya niggas better
(Die slow)
Uh
(Die slow)

All you can do is die slow nigga
(Die slow)
(Die slow)
(Die slow)
(Die slow)
(Die slow)
(Die slow)

All you can do is die
(Die slow)
Yeah
(Die slow)
(Die slow)

Fuck y'all
(Die slow)
(Die slow)
Die slow nigga
(Die slow)
(Die slow)

Yo, you against me, no contest, my tongue hydraulics
Strong enough to flip a '64 Impala with 3 adult passengers
And a 4 hundred pound driver
And drown you in less than an ounce of your own saliva

Rubber face rappers get, stretched like elastic
Claymation characters wit verbal vernacular
Slappin' ya, like a white water rafter
Or a Olympic kayaked, paddlin' across the Niagara

My afterburners'll be burnin' you after
Ya' body already been splashed with acid and you turn to ashes
Assassins camouflaged in the grass blastin'
Leavin' blood all over ya' lady like Jackie O'Nassis

I'll fly ya' body outta Dallas
Perform plastic surgery while we airborne and switch caskets
Then lie to the masses, I'll tell 'em that
You got murdered over some East West beef, between rappers

Radio stations'll express their sadness
Play classics back to back and pass out stop the violence pamphlets
Just imagine, every night ya' girls fuckin' ya' best friend
While you in hell throwin' tantrums

I'll be lampin' in a mansion somewhere out in the Hamptons
Givin' some pretty ass bitch a spankin', nigga you can't win
I'm laughin' 'cause you a has been
You'll never get ya' groove back

So don't even bother askin', Angela Bassett
You'll just get ya' ass kicked
Get ya' head chopped off and dropped in a basket
My left arms taken but my right ones free
That means I could diss another muthafuckin' emcee

Wit rhymes that appear clearer than liquid crystal
My lyrical is more visual than television screen pixels
I fire pistols, hit you wit' miniature missiles
Riddle ya' body wit' holes then watch the blood sprinkle

Ya probably had no idea what you was gettin' into
On the mic, Can-i-bus is invincible
Fuck you

(Die slow)
Hey yo, that nigga got an attitude
(Die slow)
Yeah, he be actin' rude
(Die slow)
And he's always trynna' battle you
(Die slow)
That last album was terrible

(Die slow)
When he's on the radio
(Die slow)
He never got a clean mouth
(Die slow)
Yeah, every time he freestyles
(Die slow)
His words be gettin' bleeped out

(Die slow)
You got the album?
(Die slow)
Naw, I heard it was weak
(Die slow)
You got the album? I said it was weak
(Die slow)
But the shit don't come out till next week

(Die slow)
Hey yo, I like the nigga's beats
(Die slow)
Yo that shit be comin' bugged out
(Die slow)
Hey yo, that nigga Bis dumbs out
(Die slow)
He waited too long to come out

To you bitch niggas who talk alot but walk the block, in halter tops
Left side of ya chest, mark the spot
That's where a nigga put it, when I'm hooded
Then fill you up wit big bullets prepare you for some channel 6 footage

Know what is, me and Bis, runnin' through ya courtyard
Creepin' wit a four-five and reachin' for ya door knob
Throw a gun under ya chin, see how quick your whore rise
One shot could have a short slide, right out the North side

Your whole flow is porkrine, spit the small oints
I'm nasty, but my small joints grip the bar point
Drop on top of the blue line, right beside the red one
Keep the flow fearsome, 'til the day my career done

Bring it to ya ass if you the challengin' type
Especially those, surroundin' the mic, sound of the light
To the Journ, y'all ain't no suitable splitters
True to you niggas, lay you out on MD's, recoupin' ya liver

Shoutin' my name
Ya best to control the noise soldier boy
Or homicide will be all over you poys with Polaroids

(Die slow)
Yeah, yo that nigga Journalist gets busy yo
(Die slow)
I heard he's from Philly yo
(Die slow)
I seen him in Bis video
(Die slow)
He's so skinny tho'

(Die slow)
Now he's rollin' wit Canibus?
(Die slow)
I don't even understand his shit
(Die slow)
That nigga sounds like an amateur
(Die slow)
Yo, I heard Jay manage him

(Die slow)
Yo, he got some heavy gold shit
(Die slow)
Man, that's some old shit
(Die slow)
Yeah yo, the niggas that he roll wit'
(Die slow)
Probably let 'em hold it

(Die slow)
He got alotta Benji's
(Die slow)
No he don't
(Die slow)
Every time, when I see him in the back of the source
(Die slow)
He looks [Incomprehensible]

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Ryde Or Die (Remix) - Lyrics - Dmx

Title: Ryde Or Die (Remix)
Artist: Dmx
Composer(s): George Clinton, Edward Green, Kenneth Ifill, Erick Sermon, David Styles, Parrish Smith, Ron Banks, Eve Jeffers, Earl Simmons, Mel Jason Smalls, Jr., George Clinton, Ernesto Shaw, Jr., Ernesto Shaw, Jason Phillips, Ronald Banks, Sean Jacobs

Lyric:
Yo if gon' sleep on somethin', might as well be a bed
And if you gon' crack a nigga, might as well be a head
'Cause if you targettin' the L.O.X., you might as as well target a box
That you gon' sleep in' for years, all covered wit rocks

'Cause I think not, I pop shots, I double what y'all got
Ya hotshots ain't got blocks, Tu Puta Muchacha
From the days in school, now a motherfucker rule
And I could drop my chain in court, yeah, keeps ya cool

That's how ice be, I'm priceless, the iciest
And I don't gotta wear fatigues to blow out your chest
My bullets thump when I'm laced in some fly shit, punk
The baby nine be on the daily, ain't no poppin' a trunk

But if I pop the trunk, it's to hand you a rag
So you can wipe down the windows on the side of my Jag
Must I brag? My shit paid for, yours tagged
And every bitch you grabbed, Sheek bend 'em back

Ayo I hope you ain't tongue-kissin' your spouse
'Cause I be fuckin' her in the mouth
Type of nigga buck at your house
Too slick, means she be suckin' my dick

And before you know it, I'ma have her stuffin' my bricks
Jada, if I kiss you now, you'll die later
I been nice since niggaz was watchin' movies on Beta
Ready to clap, everybody givin' me gats
'Cause believe it or not, we be the ones settin' the traps

You listen to y'all shit, then listen to our shit
That's the reason now y'all niggaz ain't got shit
Ain't nuttin' y'all faggots could do but gossip
'Cause everytime I turn around y'all on the L.O.X. dick
Niggaz thats narrow, I just smack em wit the barrel
Give it to 'em at the light, like Kane's cousin Abel

The Ruff Ryders, what? The Ruff Ryders
The Ruff Ryders, what? The Ruff Ryders
The Ruff Ryders, what? The Ruff Ryders
The Ruff Ryders, what? The Ruff Ryders

Fuck you and your son, y'all low wit the scum
Show me the money, I'll show you a gun, motherfucker
SP'll spin the corner while you prolly within'
I clap you, I clap him, and that's rule number one

Suckin' my dick, and I don't give a fuck what you spit
Who you are, where you from, and who the fuck you can get
'Cause I sell records, plus I got a jail record
Y'all niggaz ain't sayin' shit until y'all bare weapons

And even when you dead, you can still fuckin' get it
A nigga that'll smack ya, fuck around and clap ya
Styles P, your favorite rapper's favorite rapper

Ain't no surprise niggaz, only fuck wit recognized niggaz
Baby girl want the world, gave ya pies niggaz
No tops, take em in' all shape and size niggaz
No lie, prefer them ready do or die niggaz

What? What you want? Cutey starin' at me like
"Damn, where you from?"
You be comin' at me like "Can I get some?"
Lick your lips for this brown sugar
Suck mine like a thumb, if you want, 'til I cum, uhh

The Ruff Ryders, what? The Ruff Ryders
The Ruff Ryders, what? The Ruff Ryders
The Ruff Ryders, what? The Ruff Ryders
The Ruff Ryders, what? The Ruff Ryders

I be the D R, A G, dash O N, slash often comma, burnin' niggaz often
They call me Drag-On, I'm hot scorchin'
Keep the block roastin' light a dutch wit the flames comin', toastin'
In my eyes you could see what summer's holdin'

Realizin', every guy I'll fry or dead rowdy
I burn to a degree of 130, and my gun dirty
'Cause it got one bury, so you better run
Hurry or catch one early

You wrong, tryin' to touch me, what type of shit you on?
You better through your boots on and your unflammable suits on
'Cause I'm comin' through wit a Yukon Black tinted wit gats in it
Catch you while you smokin', send your casket, throw the sack in it

But only half of it, 'cause y'all like half-ass dude
And we are one whole, and y'all niggaz is one slash two
My gun blast you, tryna out the flames, what're you, firemen?
You'll catch a hell of a Backdraft 'cause my fire retirin', alright then

It's my, survival instinct that keeps my head above the water
Everyday I show another how a lover slaughter
Flood your daughter, full of more holes than spurges
Taxin' businessmen for stocks over lunches

Wit these, I shoot the breeze, and extort
Enough keys from the Cuban, to build a fuckin' fort
Caught up in somethin' that I can't control
Tryna get a hold of a bankroll, let's role

Catch bodies like a cold, and I stay slick so face it
Make me chase it, I take your life and erase it
Wasted, in the fuckin' streets 'cause it ain't worth shit
The undertaker take your ass under the earth quicker

I love money, but the scrambles hot
So I snatch up my man and the gamblin' spot
Twenty grand is got, when niggaz shot, one nigga less
What used to be his chest is now a mess under his fuckin' vest

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