Abdul Jabar Cut - Lyrics - Grits Sandwiches For Breakfast - Kid Rock

Title: Abdul Jabar Cut
Album: Grits Sandwiches For Breakfast
Artist: Kid Rock
Composer(s): R J Ritchie

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

Lyric:
Uh, kick on back to the rap I format
When it's through what you do is just play it back
Rewind it, find it
That's how I designed it

And fellas if you see a big butt get behind it
And grind on it
I mean push and bump
'Cause it's about time we made this party jump

Take a drink of your forty
And let's get naughty
Get on the floor
And just move your body to the sound

I found and also developed
Let's trip don't sit, come on get the hell up
Look at the black man, now what'd up
He's not a skin head that's the Abdul Jabar Cut

Yeah, yeah
Streets of Romeo
Mt. Clemens
Detroit
All over

Now people always me and KDC
If we take this activity a seriously
I reply, with a sigh rather uniquely
And say does Donald Trump have a lotta money

Yes a stupid question but I won't quote ya
'Cause I'm the Geraldo, Philmore, Oprah
I'm the K I D R O C K
Down with Jive, RCA

Hey how could you judge me 'cause what I am
Be blind to my mind and take a look and say fuck him
Look at the black man, now what up
He's not a skin head that's the Abdul Jabar Cut

Okay, yeah
Like I said
Top Dog
One, two to the three
And we always come back for more

Kenny wears a low fade
Danny wears no fade
I wear the high fade
And we all get paid

Tryin' to blow my rap down the sink
But go ahead 'cause my rap's made of brick
And it sticks, kicks
Hits and uplifts

At shows, it flows but never drifts
It's too swift and moves with quickness
Top Dog again and you say what is this
Its the under rated MC on top

The young six foot one Kid Rock
Look at the black man, now what's up
He's not a skin head
That's the Abdul Jabar Cut

Okay, yeah
Get down, come back
The black man from New Jersey
KDC, Kid Rock
It's the crew right here
Bitch

Now Patty keep it going with the guitar
Yeah, all you punk ass bitches
Ha, ha, ha, ha
This is Kid Mother fuckin' rock

The beast crew is in the house
All you suckers
This is a mother fuckin' party
You better ask somebody

So get your mother fuckin' hands up in the air
This ain't no joke
Yo this is the mother fuckin' east side
Detroit is in this mother fucker

Uh, ha, ha
Yo the black man
From parts unknown
Can you dig it?
You bitch
Yeah, yeah
For the nineties, hoe

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43cdde3dab754893538ff00eb84a13fa

At Least (Little Things) - Lyrics - Mirror, Mirror - Kelly Price

Title: At Least (Little Things)
Album: Mirror, Mirror
Artist: Kelly Price
Composer(s): Robert Kelly

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

Lyric:
I'm on my way back to Atlanta
About to start a new life 'cause I can't take it here
It seems like the more we fight the more the pressure
I'm in this lonely house sitting high up on a hill

Pressin' the buttons on the control
Flipping through channels on TV
Wondering when you're coming home
And take care of family

At least you can call and say I'm busy
At least you can say I'm running late
At least you can give some kind of notice
Let somebody know that you're okay

At least you can take some time to phone
At least you can just one day stay home
At least you can take me out to eat
If you love me, you would've done those things

You won't miss me till I'm gone
Impossible to drink from a well that's gone dry, yeah
And every night you come in singing the same old song
How could you do me wrong when you know it ain't right, baby

Pressin' the buttons on the control
Flipping through channels on TV
Wondering when you're coming home
And take care of family

At least you can call and say I'm busy
At least you can say I'm running late
At least you can give some kind of notice
Let somebody know that you're okay

At least you can take some time to phone
At least you can just one day stay home
At least you can take me out to eat
If you love me, you would've done those things

Take in a movie show, a carnival, a place to go, we can be alone
But instead I'm staring at these matching walls
The weekends spent, a compliment, flowers sent would've kept me at home
But now instead I'm packing my bags and I'm gone, yeah

At least you can call and say I'm busy
At least you can say I'm running late
At least you can give some kind of notice
Let somebody know that you're okay

At least you can take some time to phone
At least you can just one day stay home
At least you can take me out to eat
If you love me, you would've done those things

At least you can call and say I'm busy
At least you can say I'm running late
At least you can give some kind of notice
Let somebody know that you're okay

At least you can take some time to phone
At least you can just one day stay home
At least you can take me out to eat
If you love me, you would've done those things

All I wanted was a smile
For you to stay a little while
It's too late for it
'Cause you forgot the little things

At least you can take some time to phone
At least you can just one day stay home
At least you can take me out to eat
If you love me, you would've done those things

At least you can call and say I'm busy
At least you can say I'm running late
At least you can give some kind of notice
Let somebody know that you're okay

At least you can take some time to phone
At least you can just one day stay home
At least you can take me out to eat
If you love me, you would've done those things

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e45e3d8872ad5e100b1f61f04ecb4935

360 Degrees - Lyrics - Grand Puba

Title: 360 Degrees
Artist: Grand Puba
Composer(s): M Dixon

Lyric:
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
There's just one thing I wanna say
The reel, to reel, to reel, to reel, yo
There's just one thing I wanna say
Copy, copy, copy, copy, copy

There's just one thing I wanna say
We gonna hit it down like this, y'all know the flav
There's just one thing I wanna say
Uhh, Alamo, is you wit me?

What goes around comes back around again
Stud Doogie, is you wit me?
What goes around comes back around again
S.O.S., is you wit me?

What goes around comes back around again
Yo this how we gon' bust it down, yo you know the flavor
What goes around comes back around again
You know what time is it, check it yo, this how we flow

Here comes the Puba and you know I won't fake it
Usually bust records on gettin' butt naked
Made for the Benzi, drive a nigga skins he
Pump the tape, grab your dick, get with the Puba frenzy

C'mon honey sing, don't you, try to eject
Slow down's what you say, once my joint gets erect
Some try to copy but they just can't sketch it
Some try to follow but they just can't catch it

With the boom, boom tap, yeah alla dat
Huh, I'm livin' fat, me fall off, there'll be none of that
See who's the one to flip it? Quick to tell a nigga to zip it
Stud drink the 40 'cause we ain't got time to sip it

Grand Puba got body
Kick some of them, some of those and some yardies
As dope as they come, suckers sing or hum
Don't try to step to this, you know your shit is slum

First batter up well here's the pitch, it's a curve
Second batter up because the first got served
The one who arouse, as I browse for a blouse
Kick styles by the piles, as I leave a trail for miles

Skins when I please, hit from here to Tel Aviv
I'm gettin' G's, no more time for the line of free cheese
Here's the four one one hon, the one who gets the job done
I know you know the flavor of the Puba

What goes around comes back around again
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Na-nah, nah, nah nah, this how we bump it yo)
What goes around comes back around again
(Yaknahmsayin'? Big Jeff in the house, we gon' move it like this)

What goes around comes back around again
(Ha hah, Baby Pop, Baby Pop in the house)
(Bust how we bust it down)
What goes around comes back around again
(Y'all you know the flavor)
(Sincere Allah, check, check, check, check)

Okay, okay, okay, what more could I say?
Alamo get the boom and parlay, parlay
I'm far from the average, civilize the savage
When I'm low on protein I'm with the bean soup and cabbage

Skins on the diet, kick the flavor, 'cause a riot
Do a show and get the dough and then I'm off to the Hyatt
So tie me on the spliff, ain't no and's or if
And if you really wanna riff you just might end up playin' stiff

Girbauds hangin' baggy, Hilfiger on the top
Knapsack on the back, that's just my flavor Hobbes
As my man gives a zigga, zigga, watchin' three grow bigga, bigga
To Pos K, that's my nigga

Here goes the wreck, whaddayou expect?
If you wanna see some wreck, send cash, not a check
Grand Puba, more than a public figure
Quick to kick the bone up the butt of a golddigger

Now Tic-Tac-Toe means I hit three in a row
If I do a show then you better have my dough
Low, low, well, how low can you go?
Call on Grand Puba if you really need a pro

'Cause my shit's more rugged than G.I. Joe
Don't front honey, act like you know
Now big up to my Brooklyn mob
(Brooklyn, Brooklyn)
Big up to my Uptown mob
(Uptown, Uptown)

Now brothers wanna diss me 'cause it's my turn to burn
My best advice for the brothers is to sit back and learn
I don't diss nobody to be somebody
I just like to kick the flavor to make the people party

See all I'm sayin', is respect due
Those who tried to follow, sorry I left you
Grand Puba, Stud Doogie and Alamo
So if you ever want the flavor you know where to go
Now how we go, yeah, ha ha ha

The reel to reel, yeah yeah yeah, this is how we move it
You know the flavor, y'all know the flavor, you know the flavor
Here we go yo, and you don't stop
(Big up to all the people)
Big up, big up
Big Jeff hold tight, ha hah, ha hah
On and on y'all
Time to get gone
Word is bond

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5fa57f3ffe233fb414941c857d3c9691

Dem Niggas - Lyrics - Lil' Troy

Title: Dem Niggas
Artist: Lil' Troy
Composer(s): Troy Birklett, Ardis Wise, Bruce Isaac Rhodes

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

Lyric:
A ha
Yeah, for all y'all
Most difficult

Fuck dem niggas, we roll with enough of niggas
And got problems with a couple of niggas
But fuck dem niggas, they gonna have to take chillin' with us
Or they gonna have to face dealing with us

Fuck dem niggas, we roll with enough of niggas
And got problems with a couple of niggas
But fuck dem niggas, they gonna have to take chillin' with us
Or they gonna have to face dealing with us

I'm the master mind, get money leave the past behind
'Cause if you fuck me then that ass is mine
I lay down shit Lil' Troy who I stay down with
Artist, I'm still one thick

He told me to bring, well, here it go I run shit
You bustas please ain't done shit
We authentic time peace ice up to fice up
I'm still here who lights up

Goin' on, somebody turn the lights up
Is the mic up I can't be touched
You got cash, well, it can't be much
You missed us

I'm the same one playin' me close
I told ya it ain't done
I bring the rain if I cock back
I'm the aim one, the thing to ask if I want it I bring the Axe

You niggas can't fuck with me
I put it down real so my nigga Troy stuck with me
I cut for him and now he cut for me
Grim got the keyboard, I got the razor blade to match
I got the Lacy drop hits on the track

Fuck dem niggas, we roll with enough of niggas
And got problems with a couple of niggas
But fuck dem niggas, they gonna have to take chillin' with us
Or they gonna have to face dealing with us

Fuck dem niggas, we roll with enough of niggas
And got problems with a couple of niggas
But fuck dem niggas, they gonna have to take chillin' with us
Or they gonna have to face dealing with us

Fuck dem niggas man
Even though I had to front some niggas
I'll take out a bunch of ya niggas, you know, I'm Lil' Troy
I don't want none of you niggas, I will kill everyone of you niggas

Why you bumpin' 'cause you moved up to score a half a brick
Bitch I move three half a lick
I.D. you know the rules get your mutherfuckin' ass in line
And have my mutherfuckin' cash on time

Don't forget who you call when them niggas drink pistol whip
Tied you up and didn't even reason kid
I paid the price Gill bitch, I saved your life
Now you're thinkin' everything's all right

When I caught you off tha soft and a pistol bumpin' you all
Another reason I should bump you off, well, I ain't sayin' no more
I know you better start payin' me though
'Cuz bitch I ain't playin' no more

Fuck dem niggas, we roll with enough of niggas
And got problems with a couple of niggas
But fuck dem niggas, they gonna have to take chillin' with us
Or they gonna have to face dealing with us

Fuck dem niggas, we roll with enough of niggas
And got problems with a couple of niggas
But fuck dem niggas, they gonna have to take chillin' with us
Or they gonna have to face dealing with us

I done down to pull one, unload a clip popin' a good one
You niggas can't fuck with us
This Short Stop baby, you ain't got enough of us
You want to bring it ain't shit to me

I roll one deep but you better have a click for me
'Cuz if I get crunk I pop the trunk
I'm artist that's Troy but we both stay nonchalant
You don't know how far our money extend

When you pushin' tha Benz I'm ridin' shotgun
Cop in twins, he got a case I've got to die for the ends
It was a half of a meal from the jump when he started to burn
One lick was three and a quarter to burn

Throw three hundred in the aisle these niggas got full like that
I drink but I don't get full like that
I stay sober when it's good for me
And grab my glock and make sure I put enough on me

Fuck dem niggas
Yeah, fuck these niggas
You know what I'm sayin', we roll with enough of niggas
And 'um, I'm takin' contracts out
Every motherfuckin' body that owns somebody in this bitch

You know what I'm sayin', come see Lil' Troy
I don't care if you on the
East side, west side, north side or south side
If you a hoe ass nigga
I'm taking y'all ass out for the 99 bitch

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0cf6f690942f529892be43d38eaabeb4

Diamonds From Sierra Leone - Lyrics - Late Orchestration: Live at Abbey Road Studios - Kanye West

Title: Diamonds From Sierra Leone
Album: Late Orchestration: Live at Abbey Road Studios
Artist: Kanye West
Composer(s): John Barry, Don Black, D. Harris, Kanye West

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

Lyric:
Diamonds are forever, they won't leave in the night
I've no fear that they might desert me

(Diamonds are forever)
Throw your diamonds in the sky if you feel the vibe
(Diamonds are forever)
The Roc is still alive every time I rhyme
(Forever)

Forever ever? Forever ever? Ever, ever? Ever, ever?
(And ever)
Ever, ever? Ever, ever? Ever, ever?

Close your eyes and imagine, feel the magic
Vegas on acid, seen through Yves St. Laurent glasses
And I've realized that I've arrived, 'cause
It take more than a magazine to kill my Vibe

Does he write his own rhymes, well, sort of, I think 'em
That mean I forgot better **** than you ever thought of
Damn, is he really that caught up?
I ask if you talkin' 'bout classics, do my name get brought up?

I remember, I couldn't afford a Ford Escort
Or even a four-track recorder
So it's only right that I let the top drop on a Drop-Top Porsche
It's for yourself that's important

If you stripper name Porsche and you get tips from many men
Then your fat friend her nickname is Minivan
Excuse me, that's just the Henny, man
I smoke, I drink, I'm supposed to stop, I can't because

(Diamonds are forever)
Throw your diamonds in the sky if you feel the vibe
(Diamonds are forever)
The Roc is still alive every time I rhyme
(Forever)

Forever ever? Forever ever? Ever, ever? Ever, ever?
(And ever)
Ever, ever? Ever, ever? Ever, ever?

I was sick about awards, couldn't nobody cure me
Only playa that got robbed but kept all his jewelry
Alicia Keys tried to talk some sense in 'em
30 minutes later seein' there's no convincin' 'em

What more can you ask for? The international
Who complains about what he is owed?
And throw a tantrum like he is 3 years old?
You gotta love it though somebody still speaks from his soul

And wouldn't change by the change, or the game or the fame
When he came in the game, he made his own lane
Now all I need is y'all to pronounce my name
It's Kanye but some of my plaques, they still say, 'Kane'

Got family in the D, Kin-folk from Motown
Back in the Chi, them folks ain't from Motown
Life movin' too fast I need to slow down
Girl ain't give me no ***, she need to go down

My father Ben said I need Jesus, so he took me to church
And let the water wash over my creaser
The preacher said we need leaders
Right then my body got still like a paraplegic

You know who you can call you gotta best believe it
The Roc stand tall and you would never believe it
Take your diamonds and throw 'em up like you bulimic
Yeah, the beat cold but the flow is anemic

After debris settles and the dust get swept off
Big K pick up where young Hov left off
Right when magazines wrote Kanye West off
I dropped my new **** sound like the best of

A&R's lookin' like, "Pssh, we messed up"
Grammy night, damn right, we got dressed up
Bottle after bottle 'til we got messed up
In the studio, where really though, yeah, he next up

People askin' me, is I gon' give my chain back?
That'll be the same day I give the game back
You know the next question dog, "Yo, where Dame at?"
This track the Indian dance to bring our reign back

"What's up with you and Jay, man, are y'all okay man?"
They pray for the death of our dynasty like, Amen
Right here stands a man
With the power to make a diamond with his bare hands

(Diamonds are forever)
Throw your diamonds in the sky if you feel the vibe
(Diamonds are forever)
The Roc is still alive every time I rhyme
(Forever)

Forever ever? Forever ever? Ever, ever? Ever, ever?
(And ever)
Ever, ever? Ever, ever? Ever, ever? Ever, ever?
Ever, ever? Ever, ever?

Diamonds are forever
Diamonds are forever
Forever and ever

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5475dbe0d18b22e5315dec6c26073087

Amityville - Lyrics - The Marshall Mathers LP - Eminem

Title: Amityville
Album: The Marshall Mathers LP
Artist: Eminem
Composer(s): Rufus Johnson, Mark Bass, Marshall Mathers, Jeff Bass

Lyric:
Mentally ill from Amityville
Accidentally kill your family still
Thinkin' he won't? God-damnit he will
Mentally ill from Amityville

I get lifted and spin 'til I'm half twisted
Feet planted and stand with a grin full of chapped lipstick
Pen full of ink, think sinful and rap sick shit
Shrink pencil me in for my last visit

Drink gin 'til my chin's full of splashed whiskers
Hash whiskey and ash 'til I slap bitches
Ask Bizzy, he's been here the past six years
Mash with me you'll get in imagine this

Mentally ill from Amityville
Accidentally kill your family still
Thinkin' he won't? God-damnit he will
Mentally ill from Amityville

Mentally ill from Amityville
Accidentally kill your family still
Thinkin' he won't? God-damnit he will
Mentally ill from Amityville

I fucked my cousin in his asshole, slit my mother's throat
Guess who Slim Shady just signed to interscope?
My little sister's birthday, she'll remember me
For a gift I had ten of my boys take her virginity

And bitches know me as a horny ass freak
Their mother wasn't raped, I ate her pussy while she was 'sleep
Pissy drunk, throwin' up in the urinal
(You fuckin' homo)
That's what I said at my dad's funeral

Mentally ill from Amityville
Accidentally kill your family still
Thinkin' he won't? God-damnit he will
Mentally ill from Amityville

Mentally ill from Amityville
Accidentally kill your family still
Thinkin' he won't? God-damnit he will
Mentally ill from Amityville

That's why the city is filled with a bunch of fuckin' idiots still
That's why the first motherfucker poppin' some shit he gets killed
That's why we don't call it Detroit, we call it Amityville
You can get capped after just havin' a cavity filled

That's why we're crowned the murder capital still
This ain't Detroit, this is motherfuckin' Hamburger Hill
We don't do drivebys, we park in front of houses and shoot
And when the police come we fuckin' shoot it out with them too

That's the mentality here, that's the reality here
Did I just hear somebody say they wanna challenge me here
While I'm holdin' a pistol with this many calibres here
Plus some registration that just made this shit valid this year

'Cause once I snap I can't be held accountable for my actions
That's when accidents happen when a thousand bullets
Come at your house and collapse the foundation around you
And they found you and your family in it
God-damnit he meant it when he tells you

Mentally ill from Amityville
Accidentally kill your family still
Thinkin' he won't? God-damnit he will
Mentally ill from Amityville

Mentally ill from Amityville
Accidentally kill your family still
Thinkin' he won't? God-damnit he will
Mentally ill from Amityville

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e94679979600a06e020a0d2aacb6bb7b

Bitch Gets No Love - Lyrics - First Come First Served - Dr. Dooom

Title: Bitch Gets No Love
Album: First Come First Served
Artist: Dr. Dooom
Composer(s): Kurt Matlin, Keith Mayhew Thornton

Lyric:
Yo J, you bought this bitch's food
Yo, these bitches ain't payin' for shit
They up here eatin' and gettin' ready to plan
To go to somebody else's house after this
They usin' us man, fuck this

Look hear bitch

Bitch you got a fat stomach
Your braids look tacky and you're fuckin' broke
Like Rakim said, "I ain't no joke"

You're posin' as a high-class stinky-ass hoodrat
Fuck behind any man's back, bum bitch at the Shark Bar
Lookin' like an aardvark with a fucked up parked car

Got the nerve to have a diamond
I'm embarrassed you keep rhymin'
Fuck you Simple Simon, materialistic and twisted
Fake mink, buy your own fuckin' drink

Big shots sport you but you got a fuckin' weave
And I can even grab a white girl
And a black woman body in my world
Beverly Hills flashy shit, you on some classy girl shit
Drivin' a drug dealer's BMW
Your license ain't even fuckin' legit

Just stop and quit it, you need to admit it
You're broke and strippin'
Livin' in the Motel 8, you're fuckin' jailbait
Tattoos with names on your arms
Bighead babies with diapers, frontin' fucks

Gettin' in a basketball player's Mercedes
Fucked up faces tryin' to hang in romantic places
Get the fuck out of here
Your friends too they gon' need some ends too

Look for somethin', what?
With funky-ass G strings all up in your butt
Way to feed this elephant, this bitch is always hungry
Ghetto superstar tryin' to be intelligent

Look hear bitch

Bitch gets no love, bitch gets no love
Look hear bitch
Bitch gets no love, bitch gets no love
Look hear bitch

Bitch gets no love, bitch gets no love
Look hear bitch
Bitch gets no love, bitch gets no love
And I said, "Look hear bitch"

Peep game at the frame stand
You ugly bitches front on my man
Not my type, the assholes
That always wear them black pants
Thinkin' they hype, con women, parasites

Lick a nigga ass in valet parkin'
Just to get a Puff Daddy ticket
Them corny bitches livin' wicked
Guest-list bitch, wearin' Tommy Girl cologne over piss
Wantin' motherfuckers to call her Miss

In the club, you try to look like
Deborah Cox with a fucked up house
I bet you got roaches and mouse
Look at sperm around your fuckin' mouth
You can't even cook a meal right
Like a good woman down South

Runnin' your mouth with a million dollar pussy stinkin'
There's Massengil on the table while you rollin' a blunt
Watchin' En Vogue on the cable, gettin' your hair sewed in
'Cause your facial expression, lookin' like a fuckin' rodent

Loosen up bitch, stiff like the Tin Man
Don't even lingerie, always talkin' about your dead man
Used to be a gangster, I don't wanna hear that shit I'm eatin'
I got some fine Puerto Rican girls I'm meeting

Y'all stay with these wack-ass has-beens
I'm leavin' with the quickness
Y'all plastic monkeys at the Greek picnics

Bitch gets no love, bitch gets no love
Look hear bitch
Bitch gets no love, bitch gets no love
Look hear bitch

Bitch gets no love, bitch gets no love
Look hear bitch
Bitch gets no love, bitch gets no love
I said, "Look hear bitch"

Bitch gets no love

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924022854cdfe90e2eb161a33bab53af

Family Affair - Lyrics - No More Drama - Mary J Blige

Title: Family Affair
Album: No More Drama
Artist: Mary J Blige
Composer(s): Andre Romell Young, Chynnah Lodge, Mike Elizondo, Bruce Allen Miller, Camara Kambon, Mary J Blige, Melvin Charles Bradford, Asiah Louis

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

Lyric:
Let's get it crunk upon, have fun upon
Up in this dancery
We got ya'll open, now ya floatin'
So you gots to dance for me

Don't need no hateration, holleration
In this dancery
Let's get it perculatin' while you're waitin'
So just dance for me

Come on everybody get on up
'Cause you know we gots to get it crunk
Mary J. is in the spot tonight
And I'ma make ya feel alright, make you feel alright

Come on baby just party with me
Let loose and set your body free
Leave your situations at the door
So when you step inside, jump on the floor

Let's get it crunk upon, have fun upon
Up in this dancery
We got ya'll open now ya floatin'
So you gots to dance for me

Don't need no hateration, holleration
In this dancery
Let's get it perculatin' while you're waitin'
So just dance for me

It's only gonna be about a matter of time
Before you get loose and start to lose your mind
Cop you a drink, go ahead and rock your ice
'Cause we're celebrating 'No More Drama' in our lives

With the Dre track pumpin' everybody's jumpin'
Go ahead and twist your back and get your bodies bumpin'
I told you, leave your situations at the door
So grab somebody and get your ass on the dance floor

Let's get it crunk upon, have fun upon
Up in this dancery
We got ya'll open now ya floatin'
So you gots to dance for me

Don't need no hateration, holleration
In this dancery
Let's get it perculatin' while you're waitin'
So just dance for me

We don't need no haters
We're just trying to love one another

We just want ya'll to have a good time
No more drama in your life
Work real hard to make a dime
If you got beef, you're problem not mine

Leave all that BS outside
We're gonna celebrate all night
Let's have fun tonight, no fights
Turn that Dre track way up high

Making you dance all night and I
Got some real heat for you this time
It doesn't matter if you're white or black
Let's get crunk 'cause Mary's back

Let's get it crunk upon, have fun upon
Up in this dancery
We got ya'll open now ya floatin'
So you gots to dance for me

Don't need no hateration, holleration
In this dancery
Let's get it perculatin' while you're waitin'
So just dance for me

Let's get it crunk upon, have fun upon
Up in this dancery
We got ya'll open now ya floatin'
So you gots to dance for me

Don't need no hateration, holleration
In this dancery
Let's get it perculatin' while you're waitin'
So just dance for me

Let's get it crunk upon, have fun upon
Up in this dancery
We got ya'll open now ya floatin'
So you gots to dance for me

Don't need no hateration, holleration
In this dancery
Let's get it perculatin' while you're waitin'
So just dance for me

Let's get it crunk upon, have fun upon
Up in this dancery
We got ya'll open now ya floatin'
So you gots to dance for me

Don't need no hateration, holleration
In this dancery
Let's get it perculatin' while you're waitin'
So just dance for me

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682285f4a6d4713883a95dd94aa3fc95

Cali Chronic - Lyrics - The Movement - Harlem World

Title: Cali Chronic
Album: The Movement
Artist: Harlem World
Composer(s): Andre Hudson, Marhsall Jones, Leroy Bonner, Deric Angelettie, Mason Betha, Walter Morrison, Andrew Noland, Marvin Pierce, Ameen Burns, Chauncey Hawkins, Gregory Webster, Michael Foster, Ralph Middlebrooks, Walter Morris, Norman Napier

Lyric:
Turn it up

Yo, when I roll you know the cats be out
So you cowards got no choice but to rat me out
I call in from the pen to try to see what that be 'bout
'Cuz I catch a fool slip and yo, his ass is out

Hud, stay on the low, pop two cops
Thug, against all odds, like Tupac
I'm caked up, dog-tired from Jacob
Platinum, reach for it then wake up

For top dollar yo, I squeeze my trigger
And Lord knows, I'll lead this nigga
'Cuz I'm down for whatever
Matter of fact, I'm down for the cheddar
Try to clown and get yo' ass layed down forever

Niggas hate to see a G come up
Young niggas that run up get gun up
That's the real, seen the nigga pass the steel
Even wink and yo' ass get killed, all out

This is for the know-knotters
Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low riders
All weed smokers, Olde E sippers
All dead homies, and O.G. nigga's, throw it up
This is for the know-knotters
Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low riders
Whether blued out or flamed out
Mask on, ridin' with them big things out, yay a yay

Light up the izzy-izzy ba-ba, ask yourself, why try?
Touch the untouchable brotha that's in front of you
Harlem U.S.A be the place that I come from
Twenty-ninth and Lenox be that place I get the guns from
Vacant lots be the route that we used to run from
Thirty-second precinct until Jackie caught the dum-dum

It's hot now, cops now, all out gotta eat
Close food shop down, send them across the street
My force overheat 'cuz the cause is cheap
Reminiscin' all my homies that I lost on the streets
Dos Bruce, LB and even Stevie D
Pour some liquor out and throw it up for a G
NRB, be the click they claim to be
So if worse come to worse, do the same for me

This is for the know-knotters
Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low riders
All weed smokers, Olde E sippers
All dead homies, and O.G. nigga's, throw it up
This is for the know-knotters
Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low riders
Whether blued out or flamed out
Mask on, ridin' with them big things out, yay a yay

Now, we drink Colt '45, tote 45's
Smoke 'til we high, loc til' we die
Got locked up in Crenshaw
Somebody said, "Foo, what you in for?"
Jail mental', named Wendel
Did 15, and got about 10 more
Oh, he was silent than braille
In '83 was the first with hydraulics

Caught his first bid dealin' with narcotics
And had Day tons and always kept 'em polished
You taught me about khakis and converse
And if a foo' try to move then you ball first, feel me?
But now I'm stackin' my grip
Back in the trick, come out a day early is a slap on the wrist
But one time never sleep on it
I went from Harlem to L.A. fool, so speak on it

This is for the know-knotters
Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low riders
All weed smokers, Olde E sippers
All dead homies, and O.G. nigga's, throw it up
This is for the know-knotters
Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low riders
Whether blued out or flamed out
Mask on, ridin' with them big things out, yay a yay

This is for the know-knotters
Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low riders
All weed smokers, Olde E sippers
All dead homies, and O.G. nigga's, throw it up
This is for the know-knotters
Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low riders
Whether blued out or flamed out
Mask on, ridin' with them big things out, yay a yay

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1e6e7f130b679aa7862c19f29c374410

Going Home With Me - Lyrics - Jermaine Dupri

Title: Going Home With Me
Artist: Jermaine Dupri
Composer(s): Rahman Griffin, Jermaine Dupri, Ray Jr Parker

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

Lyric:
I'm feelin' that
I'm feelin' that, is you wit' me?

I'm the type you see at the bar, fresh, buyin' it up
And every girl I talk to, yeah I'm tryin' to cut
I tell 'em all I'm Chi Chi and it's nice to meet ya
Real quick, I tell how she got all the right features

The jams come on and the glasses get refilled
We dance and watch the relations build
Now I'm all up in her ear and she listenin'
At the same time, watchin' how a nigga glistenin'

Bling, bling, I'm thinkin' it's bout time to go
Get the B out of valet and start the late night show
Niggas hate, I know but I don't stop I shine
I'm in the club every week, same place, same time

Same thing on the mind, party
So the hell with all that, we tryin' to find somebody
The right kind 'fore the lights come off
Shit, I'm tryin' to take sumpin' home

Now if I buy you a drink and you drink it up
Then, uh, you goin' home with me
And if you talkin' at a party and we talk too much
Then, uh, we goin' home with me

Now if you came with a friend that don't wanna do my man
Then you need to give her your keys
Tell her to call you tomorrow or give you a beep
'Cause tonight, you going home with me, ya heard?

Now, is it because my name's Jermaine? No
It's all about how I kick my game, you know?
I just flow with it, spend a little dough with it
Entertain, before you know, I'm in your brain doing my thang

Tellin' you how good you smell
Send you up for a drop top cruise through the A-T-L
Now when they tipsy, it's risky, you don't know what you facin'
Fuck around and end up like Anthony Mason

So I let'em know a few things before we leave
Like, "It's true, I tapes damn near everything"
So don't even think about lyin', baby
Or try baby, to set me up for rape 'cause it's all on tape

Where you said put the cake, how you fed me the grapes
What I did with the ice that made you shake, shake
Now when the night's over and the girl is gone
I'm back up in the club singin' the same damn song

Now if I buy you a drink and you drink it up
Then, uh, you goin' home with me
And if you talkin' at a party and we talk too much
Then, uh, we goin' home with me

Now if you came with a friend that don't wanna do my man
Then you need to give her your keys
Tell her to call you tomorrow or give you a beep
'Cause tonight, you going home with me, ya heard?

Now, walk in, I'm the grown man that you figure to trick
But I'm feelin' your dress, girl and lovin' your hips
But I'm buggin' off this, "Why you stuck on the wrist?"
Golddigger, huh, mommy? Oh, you ain't that bitch?

Ain't that some shit? Suddenly, you hugs and kisses
Gotta be the dough you holdin' so obvious wit' it
I get G's to flash, T.V.'s in the dash
See Sinbad, watchin' Vibe, ladies clockin' to ride

Luxury flows, lengerie hoes
R.O.C. hit'em mo' than Jose Conseco
Uh, RBI's, orange top fly, the brown skin, slim
The nice braids, brown eyes

R.O.C.'s stay pimpin' from Jersey to Richmond
Y'all playas waitin' to ball like 6th men
I'm done with the game, point spread by a hundred
Speakin' of hundreds, five's is a nice way to slide it, let's ride

Now if I buy you a drink and you drink it up
Then, uh, you goin' home with me
And if you talkin' at a party and we talk too much
Then, uh, we goin' home with me

Now if you came with a friend that don't wanna do my man
Then you need to give her your keys
Tell her to call you tomorrow or give you a beep
'Cause tonight, you going home with me, ya heard?

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ca2eb05fada95d614bb42675f429a3e4

I Shot Ya (Remix) - Lyrics - Mr Smith - Ll Cool J

Title: I Shot Ya (Remix)
Album: Mr Smith
Artist: Ll Cool J
Composer(s): James Brown, Jean Claude Olivier, Lyn Collins, James Todd Smith

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

Lyric:
Yeah, L.O.D.
Keith Murray, Def Squad
Mr., Mr., Mr., Mr. Smith
You wanna hit?
Uhh, gimme an hour plus a pen and a pad

Yo, I'm here to make a dollar out of fifteen cents
And let my balls hang like I'm on a toilet takin' a shit
My style is all that, and a big bag of chips wit' the dip
Fuck all that sensuous shit, I represent intellectual violence

And leave your click holier than the Ten Commandments
Like Redman I shift with tha ruck
If ya if was a spliff we'd be all fucked up
No need to ask you who is he, son I get busy

Scuff my Timbs on the boulevard of many ruff cities
I'll have to Norman Bate ya, I love ta hate ya
'Cause youse a freak by nature, can't wait to face ya, mutilate ya
Drink your style down straight wit' no chaser

My verbal combat's like a mini-Mac to your back
As soon as one of you niggaz try to over react
Tha L.O.D. love good confrontation or vamp
Break your concentration, murder your camp

For tha jealous, overzealous, we fellaz
Blow the the spot like Branford Marsalis
Niggaz comin' through and actin' wild
Y'all commercial niggaz better have a Coke and a smile, I shot ya

Yo, I conversate wit' many men, it's time to begin again
Forgot what I already knew, aiyyo you hear me friend?
Illuminati want my mind, soul, and my body
Secret society, tryin' to keep they eye on me

But I'm stay incogni', in places they can't find me
Make my moves strategically, the G.O.D.
It's sorta similar but iller than a chess player
I use my thinker, it coincides with my blinker

While you wondered what we sayin' on the records real
Yeah, you motherfuckin' right kid you know the deal
My Mobb is infamous just like the fuckin' title read
You get back slapped so hard make ya nose bleed

Some, kids feeling guilty 'bout the
But you first baby girl so just face it
But anyway, back on the real side of things
My niggaz sling cracks and wear fat diamond rings

Not only is it inside the songs that we sing
Everything is real not just a song that we sing
From my life to the paper, very accurately
Give you all of my two so maybe you can three

Prodigy will forever will S-H-I-N-E
My shit attract millions like the moon attract the sea
How dare you ever in your life walk past me
Without acknowledgin' this man as G-O-D, I shot ya faggot ass

Now who the fuck you think you talkin to, I pay dues I spray crews
Look I'm Joey Crack, motherfuckers be like he's bad news
Runnin' this racket, from New York to Montego
Slaughterin' people, bring a ton of keys from Puerto Rico

I'd rather be feared than loved because the fear lasts longer
These bitch ass niggaz know we stronger
Than these weaklings, seekin', for respect that ain't there
Knuckleheads beware, there's mad tension in the air

Tommy guns for fun, shotties for block parties
While fresh lead heats up your insides like a fifth of Bacardi
Call the ambulance, this man's wet
Bullets cut him down from the root up just like a Gillette razor

Which I keep hidden in my oral
Ready to spatter, at any ad out, that wants to quarrel
These feds want me for some tax evasion
Now that the fact that somebody's gettin' lucci that's not Caucasian

Bullets be blazin'
Through these streets
Filled with torture
Joey Crack, a.k.a. Keyser Soze

Thug niggaz give they minks to chinks
To' down we sip drinks rockin' minks, flashin' rings and things
Frontin' hardcore deep inside the Jeep, mackin'
Doin' my thing fly nigga you a Scarface king

Bitches grab ya ta-ta's, get them niggaz for they chedda
Fuck it, Gucci sweaters and Armani leathers
Flossin' rocks like the size of Fort Knox
Four carats, the ice rocks, pussy bangin' like Versace locs pops

Want ta the creep, on the light raw ass cheeks
I'm sexin' raw dog without protection, disease infested
Uh, Italiano got the Lucciano
I gets down fuckin' with Brown Fox extra keys to the drop

Boo I'm jingling jaby, I got crazy Dominicans who pay me
To lay low, I play slow
Roll with tha Firm, Mafiaso crime king pin
It all real nigga what tha deal, I shot ya

What the fuck? I thought I conquered the whole world
Crushed Moe Dee, Hammer, and Ice-T's girl
But still, niggaz want to instigate shit
I'll battle any nigga in tha rap game quick

Name the spot, I make it hot for ya bitches
Female rappers too, I don't give a fuck boo
Word, I'm here to crush all my peers
Rhymes of the month in The Source for twenty years

Niggaz scared, I'm detrimental to your mental state
I use my presidential Rolex to be debate
Niggaz fight, glock cocked ya temple gets fucked
MC's, that fuck with LL they gets bucked

That's real, what's up with that 'I shot ya' deal?
Light shit, niggaz slip now how the bullet feel?
New York appeal, in L.A. they gang bang
But if you touch a mic your motherfuckin' ass hang

That's facts, niggaz don't recieve no type of slack
'Cause if they do, they ass is always runnin' back
Not this time, but next time I'ma name names
LL, shittin' from on top of the game, I shot ya

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f4d9f602aabf73cdc4c727bd4d37ab28

It Wasn'T Us - Lyrics - Incognegro - Ludacris

Title: It Wasn'T Us
Album: Incognegro
Artist: Ludacris
Composer(s): Chad Hugo, Christopher Bridges, Bobby Sandimanie, Pharrell L Williams

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

Lyric:
They wanna know why I hit like that, spit like that
Shit like that, maybe because I get like that
Kick like that, rip like that
They wanna know why I rhyme like that, shine like that
Climb like that, 'cause the world is mine like that
Yours like that, mine like that

You can get your whole crews, even niggas that owe you
They ain't paid you shit you can drink some cold brew
And throw on them old shoes and jump in the whip
You can come and find us, be right behind us and insert the clip

You hear something that went clack,clack, clack
Somebody went down but it wasn't us
You can settle 'bout two meals get hooked up with a good deal
Start stackin' dough you can ride your mobile

Get 20 inch big wheels and collect some hoes
Tou can even start eatin' good and smokin' good
But you pressin' your luck and you say wha'
Somebody went bankrupt shit but it wasn't us

They wanna know why I hit like that, spit like that
Shit like that, maybe because I get like that
Kick like that, rip like that
They wanna know why I rhyme like that, shine like that
Climb like that, 'cause the world is mine like that
Yours like that, mine like that

You can go to the drawing board just start from scratch
All over again clean
Or you can tell a bunch of officers that I'm the one to catch
But my niggas is the police

You can try to blame me or even try to frame me
But I'll make bail now
Somebody goin' to jail shit but it wasn't us
You do track after track, and walls get plaque after plaque

CD's on rack after rack no moe selling sac' after sac'
You could've had that good life, good kids and a good wife
It was yours to earn but the records stores gettin' returns
Shit but it wasn't us

They wanna know why I hit like that, spit like that
Shit like that, maybe because I get like that
Kick like that, rip like that
They wanna know why I rhyme like that, shine like that
Climb like that, 'cause the world is mine like that
Yours like that, mine like that

You could be goin' on worldwide tours
And see your face on every magazine
Or you can flip to channel after channel
And see that ass on the TV screen

You can pay for expensive videos
And have whole lot of big bootie hoes
But when the shit start comin' to a close
Shit but it wasn't us

You can use your back-up plan, even call him your back-up man
And start thinkin' quick
You can call on your back-up hoes, even call the back-up pros
And tell 'em to suck a dick

And you tell just to get deez
And you tell just to pay the fees
And to pay their dues, and they catchin' those STD's
Shit but it wasn't us

They wanna know why I hit like that, spit like that
Shit like that, maybe because I get like that
Kick like that, rip like that
They wanna know why I rhyme like that, shine like that
Climb like that, 'cause the world is mine like that
Yours like that, mine like that

They wanna know why I hit like that, spit like that
Shit like that, maybe because I get like that
Kick like that, rip like that
They wanna know why I rhyme like that, shine like that
Climb like that, 'cause the world is mine like that
Yours like that, mine like that

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16d07ab7bbf5db6fe4bedb2ad7162c66

Guilty Conscience - Lyrics - Slim Shady LP - Eminem

Title: Guilty Conscience
Album: Slim Shady LP
Artist: Eminem
Composer(s): Dan Peyton, Caroline Arnell, Marty Kaniger, Marshall Mathers, Ronald Stein, Andre Young

Lyric:
{Meet Eddie, twenty-three years old
Fed up with life and the way things are going
He decides to rob a liquor store
But on his way in, he has a sudden change of heart
And suddenly, his conscience comes into play}

Alright, stop!
(Huh?)
Now before you walk in the door of this liquor store
And try to get money out the drawer
You better think of the consequence
(But who are you?)
I'm your motherfuckin' conscience
That's nonsense
Go in and gaffe the money and run to one of your aunt's cribs
And borrow a damn dress and one of her blonde wigs
Tell her you need a place to stay
You'll be safe for days if you shave your legs with Renee's razor blades

Yeah, but if it all goes through like it's supposed to
The whole neighborhood knows you and they'll expose you
Think about it before you walk in the door first
Look at the store clerk, she's older than George Burns
Fuck that! Do that shit, shoot that bitch
Can you afford to blow this shit? Are you that rich?
Why you give a fuck if she dies? Are you that bitch?
Do you really think she gives a fuck if you have kids?

Man, don't do it, it's not worth it to risk it
(You're right)
Not over this shit
(Stop!)
Drop the biscuit
(I will)
Don't even listen to Slim yo, he's bad for you
You know what Dre I don't like your attitude

{Meet Stan, twenty-one years old
After meeting a young girl at a rave party
Things start getting hot and heavy in an upstairs bedroom
Once again, his conscience comes into play}

Now listen to me, while you're kissin' her cheek
And smearin' her lipstick, I slipped this in her drink
Now all you gotta do is nibble on this little bitches earlobe
Yo this girls only 15 years old
You shouldn't take advantage of her, that's not fair
Yo, look at her bush, does it got hair?
(Ah huh)

Fuck this bitch right on that spot there
Till she passes out she forgot how she got their
Man, ain't you ever seen that one movie kids?
No, but I seen the porno that's on nubiest
Shit, you wanna get hauled off to jail?
Fuck that, hit that shit raw dawg and bail

{Meet Grady, a twenty-nine year old construction worker
After coming home from a hard day's work
He walks in the door of his trailer park home
To find his wife in bed with another man}

Alright calm down, relax, start breathin'
Fuck that shit! You just caught this bitch cheatin'
While you at work she's with some dude tryin' to get off
Fuck slittin' her throat, cut this bitches head off
Wait! what if there's an explanation for this shit?
What? She tripped? Fell? Landed on his dick?
Alright Shady, maybe he's right Grady
But think about the baby before you get all crazy

Okay! Thought about it, still wanna stab her?
Grab her by the throat, get your daughter and kidnap her?
That's what I did, be smart, don't be a retard
You gonna take advice from somebody who slapped Dee Barnes?
What'chu say?
What's wrong? Didn't think I'd remember?
I'ma kill ya motherfucker

Ah ha, temper, temper
Mr. Dre? Mr. N.W.A.?
Mr. A.K. comin' straight outta Compton y'all better make way?
How the fuck you gonna tell this man not to be violent?
'Cause he don't need to go the same route that I went
Been there, done that, aww fuck it what am I sayin'?
Shoot 'em both Grady, where's your gun at?

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5d9b1411e2409f28ade6b4fd8e5dca78

New Cut Road - Lyrics - Johnny 99 - Johnny Cash

Title: New Cut Road
Album: Johnny 99
Artist: Johnny Cash
Composer(s): Guy Clark

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

Lyric:
Coleman Bonner was a fiddle playin' fool
He's a backwoods rounder and a breaker of mules
Coleman Bonner's got a wore out bow
He's been playin' all day down the new cut road

Coleman's little sister said, "You better act right, Coleman
Daddy's gone to Louisville, he'll be back tonight
He's gonna get another wagon and a good pair of mules
And we gonna move to Texas, we just waitin' on you"

Coleman's daddy pulled up in the yard
He said, "Pack up your lives, kids, it's gettin' too hard"
Kentucky's alright but there's too many people
Just the other day I thought I saw a church steeple

Coleman said, "Daddy, don't you worry 'bout me
I'm gonna stay here in Kentucky till the day I'd
I'm gonna drink that sour mash and gonna race that mare
And find that woman with the fox red hair"

Now you all been movin' west since the day you got married
Well, I'm gettin' off the wagon, daddy, I'm too old to be carried
Gonna stay here in Kentucky where the bluegrass grow
I'm gonna play it all night down the new cut road

Coleman's daddy said, "Now what's it all comin' to
Young people these days are just as stubborn as mules
You can't make him go, he's too old for that
It's that damned old fiddle and that bowler hat"

Coleman's mama said, "Let the boy stay
He's raised up solid and he can find his own way
But as for me, honey, I'm with you
I always thought Kentucky was just passin' through"

Coleman's little sister then she started into a cryin'
And his daddy shook his head for the very last time
Coleman's mama said, "Somebody's gotta do it
Wouldn't be no Kentucky less you didn't stick to it, Coleman"

Coleman Booner stood on the porch of that cabin
Watched 'em all go to Texas in a covered wagon
He pulled out his fiddle and he rosined up his bow
And he played a little tune called the new cut road

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32339d0e0bce03024f1d6f10ee5b3eed

8 Minutes To Sunrise - Lyrics - Common

Title: 8 Minutes To Sunrise
Artist: Common
Composer(s): Rashid Lonnie Lynn, Jill Scott, Andre Harris

Lyric:
Yeah, yo, yo, yo yo, yo, yo
Yo, a touch of jazz y'all, yeah, yeah
[Unverified] y'all, yo they got us on the run, like

8 minutes to sunrise
Oh baby now, what are we gonna do?
(I don't know)
Pressure is mountin'
Oh baby now, how we gonna get through?
(I, don't, know)

Can't go left, can't go right
(Uh uh, uh uh)
Don't know, how we made it through the night
(C'mon c'mon c'mon)
7 minutes to sunrise
Oh baby now, what are we gonna do?
(Do it, do it)

It was once said by Black Thought that "Things fall apart"
Knew I shouldn't have been messin' with dude's girl from start
But I pimp from the heart, the art of it made it interestin'
Plus me and sister blend before we got intimate

Friend or no friend, my man caught wind
This chick is payin' me, it'll either cost me or cost him
Told her she shoulda lost him a while ago
(When?)
'Cause dude'll drink a pile of Mo' and defile her yo

I ain't here to start on this nigga, for me to wreck his broad
You could tell what I thought of this nigga
Nickname was Smoke, don't know if that was cause of cigarettes
(Or what?)
Or guns he tote, he called shots on the deck

So I wasn't tryin' to call his bluff, by his persona
You could see, he think he tough
If that wasn't enough, old girl had his son
This is Wild like the West I'm like Jesse on the run, uhh

6 minutes to sunrise
Oh baby now, what are we gonna do?
(I don't know)
Pressure is mountin
Oh baby now, how we gon' get through?
(I, don't, know)

Can't go left and can't go right and
(Uh uh, uh uh)
Don't know, how we made it through the night
(Yo, we got)
5 minutes to sunrise
Oh baby now, what are we gonna do?
(Do it, do it)

I understand that time is runnin' out, I'm thinkin' of town-skippin'
Got a Chevy but the alternator be trippin'
I'm hittin' rum straight, thinkin' of a route to truncate
The streets is watchin', out is one way I put myself in his Nike's

His position is, "Aight man, somebody bonin' my lady"
Probably snap like Rod-man
My plan was to meet at this bar called the Tiki
(When?)
'Round four, when she was comin' she would beep me

I sat deep in the corner, drinkin' zombies, becomin' one by now
Wonderin' if my style would support her and her child
Out the corner of my eye saw this stud I recognized
(Who?)
One of Smoke's guys, to stay out of sight I tried

Told Jill Scott to meet we coulda picked a better spot
On some nobody's supposed to be here, shit like Deborah Cox
Looked at my watch, shit I don't even got a watch
Felt for my glock, dammit I don't even got a glock, yo

4 minutes to sunrise
Oh baby now, what are we gonna do?
(I don't know)
Pressure is mountin'
Oh baby now, how we gon' get through?
(I, don't, know)

Can't go left and can't go right and
(Uh uh, uh uh)
Don't know, how we made it through the night
(C'mon c'mon)
3 minutes to sunrise
Oh baby now, what are we gonna do?
(Do it, do it)

Pressure puh-pressure what? The pressure's cookin'
It ain't good lookin', like a black promoter I'm talkin' bookin'
Not that I'm spooked of dude, I could whup him
But he was on the horn informin' the rest of them hoodlums
(Aight)

Usually I wouldn't fight over a woman, old girl had a sun-shine
was messed up, on Smoke's payroll was one-time
My pager went off, it read one line, "Come get me
From Halsted", I'm thinkin' this is monkey bar, shit

Went to the phone quick, called her, her line was busy
(What happened?)
Situation number nine, got my mind dizzy
Wondered if this plan was designed to get me
I've been drinkin' too strong to be thinkin' too long

Like 40 goin' North I'm doin' 50, headed for the spot
Askin' God to be with me, and lately
She has been actin' shifty
(But what?)
But then it hit me, it hit me
(Hit me, hit me)
It hit me, it hit me
(Hit me)

2 minutes to sunrise
Oh baby now, what are we gonna do?
(I don't know)
Pressure is mountin'
Oh baby now, how we gonna get through?
(Yo, I said I, don't, know)

Can't go left and can't go right and
(Uh uh, nope)
Don't know, how we made it through the night
(Yo, we got)
1 minute to sunrise
Oh baby now, what are we gonna do?
(One one, one ha?)

1 minute, one, one
(We got, we got)
1 minute, one, one
(Ahh shit, we got)

1 minute, one, one
(What we got girl?)
1 minute, now, now
(Baby, com sense on the run)

1 minute, one
(Com sense on the run)
1 minute
(Just got on the run, just got on the run)

Com sense on the run, com sense on the run
Just got on the run, just got on the run
They got us on the run like, they got us on the run

They got us on the yo, they got us on the run
Uhh, yo, they got us on the run
They got us on the yo, they got us on the run
And we out

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Party Crasher - Lyrics - Method Man

Title: Party Crasher
Artist: Method Man
Composer(s): Robert F. Diggs, Derrick Harris, Clifford Smith

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Lyric:
Aww shit, not these niggaz again
Aiyyo listen
I'm only lettin' five of you motherfuckers in here tonight
If your man ain't on the guest list
He get to the back of the fuckin' line
And you know another motherfuckin' thing?
I don't give a fuck if a bitch spill a drink
In this motherfucker tonight
I'm kickin' all y'all the fuck outta here

Uhh
Muh'fuckers be up in the club scared to fuckin' death
Nigga if you scared why don't yo' ass just stay the fuck home
Check it out, uhh

Me and mines at the door, ain't tryin' to pay your fees
Stop playin', you fuckin' with me, I push my way in
Bum rush there's plenty of us to tear the club up
Guzzlin' Bacardi and such, I split a Dutch
Bouncin' nigga lookin' like he want war
Now I ain't the one you got to front Pah pattin' me down like the law
As I stumble in the party
Topsey off the Limon Bacardi for sure

Loungin' near the bar section, rolled the L
And kept steppin', concealed weapon, razor sharp
Blue star hatchet, in the sleeve of my jacket
Who that kid, on the dance floor lookin' for matches?
Burn somethin', one toke got me blasted
Took another toke then I passed it, choke
Fantastic, herb ain't no joke
Especially that indo smoke mixed with hashish

Ladies on the dance floor, shakin' they asses
That millon dollar broke niggaz, that makin' passes
Honey with the eye glasses, body work is Boombastic
Skin like blackberry molasses, mmm
At last it's, time to step and make her mine
Niggas headin' toward the bathroom tuckin' they shines
Brothers got to keep it movin', playin' with kids
That won't hesitate to snatch a Cuban, you know what this is

Yo Duke that's your diamonds right there, God?
Yo that shit'll go right where my people ain't right now
Yo don't touch my shit

Now it's on in the lavatory, I heard a scream
End of story couldn't find shorty, party scene's
Now a fucked up chaotic thing, won't be long
Before the sirens intervene, the territory
Can't we all get along, without the ruckus
Got big bouncin' muh'fuckers, tryin' to rush us
I can take a hint, what? Can smell the stench
Of a hell bent environment, the odds against us

Back to the wall y'all, refuse to fall
All hands on deck yes, prepare to brawl
Uhh, every time I try to have a good time why?
Somebody always fuckin' it up, killin' my high, damn
Monkey wrench they whole program, party over
By that time I'm dead sober
In the midst of this whole shit fo' soldiers, dead gone
You can tell that they was heat holders

Everybody hit the deck when they expose tech, I fled the set
Bitch slipped and caught a broke neck, some Brooklyn kids
Rushed the coat check, they whole set, stompin' Duke
Half to death and took his Rolex, it's horrible
Like a front page article, Mister Pitiful
About a step away now we critical, uhh
As I boned out I heard the people shout
Niggaz, yea cold turn the party out
Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh

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