All That Is Real Is You - Lyrics - Strange Times - Moody Blues

Title: All That Is Real Is You
Album: Strange Times
Artist: Moody Blues
Composer(s): Justin Hayward

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Lyric:
All the world over I've searched for a dream
I've found out that life is not what it seems
I've seen all the wonders the world has to give
But all that is real is you

All of the silver and all of the gold
Are worthless to me, lifeless and cold
I've known all the treasure a man can possess
But all that is real is you

So bring me back home, my love my love
Oh how I need you
Take me back home, my love, my love
Oh how I love you

Even the place where my heart used to fly
The warm summer breeze, the wild seabirds cry
And all are illusions and all just a dream
'Cause all that is real is you

So bring me back home my love, my love
Oh how I need you
Take me back home my love, my love
Oh how I love you

All the world over I've searched for a dream
I've found out that life is not what it seems
I've seen all the wonders the world has to give
But all that is real is you, 'cause all that is real is you

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All We Got Left Is The Beat - Lyrics - 14 Shots To The Dome - Ll Cool J

Title: All We Got Left Is The Beat
Album: 14 Shots To The Dome
Artist: Ll Cool J
Composer(s): George Jr Clinton, Frank Waddy, Walter Morrison, Garry Shider, William Collins, Bobby F Ervin, James Todd Smith

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Lyric:
Ey, ey, check it out homie
Man, you need to get up out of this spot man
And get a job man before you get smoked man
I know you don't wanna hear it man
But, man, wait, hold up loc you've got company man
Where's my guns?

When I'm ridin' on the street I hear gunshots, rare shots
Swear crack niggas 'cause they're moms missed flips
So black man really care about politics
In the ninety's, our governments so slick

I watch CNN sometimes and I realize
They're playin' tricks on my mind
They want a man to work with his hands
Too young to die, and they don't give a damn

Rare-momma got down on her knees
But not no more, god damn it, I make cheese
I'm on the move and I'ma show and prove
You might cry to my political groove

Rest in peace, sauce brothers underneath
I love you to death while my beat's like a reef
In the middle of the night on the city streets
The only thing we got left is the beat

All we got left is the beat, is the beat, yo
All we got left is the beat, huh, give it to me
All we got left is the beat, the beat, yo
All we got left is the beat, uh

Who brings guns into the USA?
And then makes sure that they come around the way
Gain the points until the whole race traps
And teach up my woman that she should call up the cops

The projects are hell, wait a, minute
There's nothin' we do but ride on top of an elevator
Say the clubs, I can't get a job
Mouth to feed, somebody's gettin' robbed

I ain't worked, but I ain't workin' for crumbs
You ever seen a man-shelter? Check out the bombs
Brother of pain, their whole lives are over
They spent every dime tryin' not to be sober

And all the ladies got bags of clothes
They'll be your long lost momma, one never knows
The streets are like a nightmare
While the presidents secretary is chillin' in his leather chair

All we got left is the beat, is the beat, yo
All we got left is the beat, give it to me
All we got left is the beat, the beat, yo
All we got left is the beat, uh

Lemon to a lime, lime to a lemon
When you need a toga-black, hire black linen
Your ripper's man applause when he can't get a job
He gets up all of his family and feels like a slob

The black women don't understand
'Cause they don't realize what it is to be a black man
In the mornin' a brother feels like a jerk
Seein' black women and white men go to work

So all women fear, the brothers ain't real
'Cause they won't give us no jobs, that's the real deal
Hold my hand while I get it all together
They don't deserve me at times of bad weather

'Cause I'ma make it out the concrete walls
And there's another way besides basketball
Let me go, let me do what I do
I'm red, black and green, then red, white and blue

All we got left is the beat, is the beat, yo
All we got left is the beat, give it to me
All we got left is the beat, is the beat, yo
All we got left is the beat, uh, give it to me

Ridin' in the street you can feel the city heat
A little bit of grass and a whole lot of concrete
Creepin' I'm standin' on the corner
And you can get robbed if you wanna

Paybacks a mother on the street
You're seein' gold teeth, ya hearin' funky beats
Brothers ride by real slow
You get leary when they got tinted windows

Sittin' on the steps with a blunt
I'm drinkin' valentine, I wasn't raised up front
My aunt Ellie always talked about God
Tell me you never cried 'cause it's so hard
Government got a hell of a plan
But word is born they ain't destroyin' this black man

All we got left is the beat, is the beat, yo
All we got left is the beat, give it to me
All we got left is the beat, is the beat, yo
All we got left is the beat, uh, give it to me

All we got left is the beat, is the beat, yo
All we got left is the beat, huh, give it to me
All we got left is the beat, the beat, yo
All we got left is the beat, uh, give it to me

Uh, uh ,uh
Uh, uh, uh
Uh, uh, uh
...

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Back Seat - Lyrics - 14 Shots To The Dome - Ll Cool J

Title: Back Seat
Album: 14 Shots To The Dome
Artist: Ll Cool J
Composer(s): J T Smith, Quincy D Jones

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Lyric:
Ah yeah, I wanna send this one
Out to all the jeep lovers worldwide
City to city, ghetto to ghetto
Some flavor for you and yours and your jeep

You're the type of girl that got class and style
Still in all you need the backseat of my jeep once in a while
So I pull up to your door
To give you what you're looking for, hardcore

I know you wanna come in my jeep
We can park on a backstreet
You're checkin' out my car phone, scopin' out my jewelry
Let's do this in a hurry

Air freshener is kickin', drive through for chicken
I know you need a good stickin'
That's when I see my man Snoop
Peace, what up, kid? Loungin' duke

As I turn the corner, starin' in your cornier
You're gettin' hornier and hornier
I'm pumpin' up a blint tape flavor
You're legs is incredible, I do a double take

You're puttin' on your lipstick
I wanna give you this big fat
Quick, I know a place where
We can lounge and cool, don't sleep
(Where at?)
Back seat of my jeep

Back seat of my jeep, let's swing an episode
Back seat of my jeep, let's swing an episode
Back seat of my jeep, let's swing an episode
Back seat of my jeep, let's swing an ep'

I'm pullin' over near your building
I light a candle on the dashboard, we're chillin'
I knew a girl like you would love a scene like this
You got class but deep down you're real freakish

You got it all but you never had a wild episode
That's when me and my jeep showed
Up with the funk in the trunk and hittin' it, we're spunkin'

I'll even get you drunk and tipsy 'cause I know you're feelin' frisky
You love it 'cause it's wild and risky
You got your eyes on the hood, you're up to no good
I took you in the back, you hoped I would

You got your black on black so stacked in the back
While I'm pumpin' in the CD I'll skip a track
Windows are foggy and back seat
Treats in the streets could be a hobby

And you ain't in between the Isley Brothers' sheets
I give it to you real raw in the backseat
That's how you want it, don't ya?
You'll tell your girlfriends, won't ya? Don't lie, take it in your eye

So buckle up, buckle up
What's my name? What's my name?
What's my name? What's my name?
I never knew a four wheel drive could be so live
I'll put your numbers in the archives

So take 'em off and put them things on the mirror, girl
It's my jeep and your world
You got it going on lovely time to do the right thing
'Cause I can tell you wanna swing

Back seat of my jeep, let's swing an episode
Back seat of my jeep, let's swing an episode
Back seat of my jeep, let's swing an episode
Back seat of my jeep, let's swing an ep'

Back seat of my jeep, let's swing an episode
Back seat of my jeep, let's swing an episode
Back seat of my jeep, let's swing an episode
Back seat of my jeep, let's swing an ep'

We're bonin' on the dark blocks
Wearin' out the shocks, wettin' up the dashboard clock
Seats full of sweat, I told ya, I would hit it
Your kitty, kitty, cat, cat was hungry so I fed it

Workin' as a team, somebody, anybody scream
Jump with me to the cash bar
I'll be like Bruce Lee in them skins goin'

Damn, it's so good, the mad grip on my tip
You're still a nice girl but my jeep makes ya flip
You go wild and stick your toes on the roof
You're so cute wit' your gold tooth

Extentions on the carpet
That nice round brown is my target
It's so firm so cushy, it makes me feel mushy
I love it when it's pushy

But don't laugh, I'm serious with this
The back seat of my jeep is priceless
You're climaxin', you're climaxin', it's full action
You love a good waxin', it's so relaxin'
Give me a hug, see what I'm sayin', love?

Back seat of my jeep, let's swing an episode
Back seat of my jeep, let's swing an episode
Back seat of my jeep, let's swing an episode
Back seat of my jeep, let's swing an ep'

Back seat of my jeep, let's swing an episode
Back seat of my jeep, let's swing an episode
Back seat of my jeep, let's swing an episode
Back seat of my jeep, let's swing an ep'

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Be Real - Lyrics - King of Crunk & Bme Recordings Present: Lil Scrappy & Trillville Chopped & Screwed - Lil Scrappy

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Can'T Explain It - Lyrics - The DEFinition - Ll Cool J

Title: Can'T Explain It
Album: The DEFinition
Artist: Ll Cool J
Composer(s): Tim Mosley, Walter Milsap, Candice Nelson, James Todd Smith

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

Lyric:
I can't explain it
You know it's that moment
It's just that moment
Y' know wa' I'm sayin? I can't explain it

Can't explain it
My love, when we're together
You're the greatest, nobody does it better
When you hold me
I wish that I could be your one and only
Nobody does it better

I understand you want canaries on your hand
Masterpiece roley, gold tri color band
Cute wedding pictures sittin' on the nightstand
You don't wanna make it happen unless it's the right man
I know you won't touch me unless you trust me
You kiss me and hug me but still won't crush me
I'm kissin' on your neck real tender
Gentle as can be but you still won't surrender
Let me kiss your eyes
Let the smell of the incense enhance the vibe
I pull back to stare at your eyes
Sittin' there quiet like I'm hypnotized
We kiss a little more, laugh and smile
Might even share a lollipop, you know my style
Kick your Charles Davids off, relax for a while
Let's pretend that we're walkin' down the aisle
I can't explain it

Can't explain it
My love when we're together
You're the greatest, nobody does it better
When you hold me
I wish that I could be your one and only
Nobody does it better

Straight up, you beautiful B
I don't think you understand what you doin' to me
On the couch witcha legs crossed, watchin' TV
Shoe hangin off the tip of your foot, you killin' me
Then we kiss for real, I'm fully prepared, I'm already steel
You go to the bathroom for a second
I understand baby, I know what you checkin'
That's when you come back and walk to me slow
That's when you change up and let it all flow
I'm kissin' on your belly ring nice and slow
I love to take my time, love to give you a show
Get the warm chocolate syrup to travel below
Use my ears like handlebars, take control
Ain't no sense in stayin' calm and playin' the role
Baby relax, let me touch your soul
I can't explain it

Can't explain it
My love when we're together
You're the greatest, nobody does it better
When you hold me
I wish that I could be your one and only
Nobody does it better

My turn to get rocked, lifted out my socks
With sound effects and what not
A little perfume above the right spot, just a touch
Never too much, I lick it like a Dutch
Two of my favorite numbers, you know what I mean
Add 'em up and they equal fifteen
You the six, I needed you like a fix
I can see it my mind, I knew we was gon' click
I pick up the pace
You feel the stubble from my beard on your face
I look at your lips and take a taste
Switch it up I got my hands on your waist
We whylin' out, we all over the place
I'm holdin' on with a strong embrace
You holdin' on and tryin' to keep the faith
Together we blast to outer space
I can't explain it

Can't explain it
My love when we're together
You're the greatest, nobody does it better
When you hold me
I wish that I could be your one and only
Nobody does it better

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99 Problems - Lyrics - Home Invasion - Ice T

Title: 99 Problems
Album: Home Invasion
Artist: Ice T
Composer(s): George Jr. Clinton, Alphonso Henderson, Tracy L Marrow

Lyric:
Yeah, last year a lot of motherfuckers asked me
Why I didn't do no old sex nasty shit
But this year, I went down to Miami and got my nigga from 2 Live
Brother Marquis in the house
(Yeah, I'm the motherfuckin' nigga)

Yeah, we gonna answer the question about girl problems
All these niggaz is havin' girl problem, Marq
(Huh, tell them man, tell them how it is)
Lemme tell you what time is it

I got a ho from the East, got a ho from the West
Got a ho that likes to jack it off and rub it in her chest
I got a ho from the North, a ho from the South
A ho that likes to suck it long and hold it in her mouth

I got a bitch with hair, a bitch with none
A bitch with a knife, a bitch with a gun
A bitch with a ass big as a TV set
And there's a bitch over there, hey, the one I'm gonna get

But yo, but maybe not, she might not like me though
No sweat to a vet, I'll slam a sista though, word
Ice in the whole damn herd
I fuck 'em all and leave 'em on the curve

I got a bitch with a mink, who rocks a fat gold link
Who likes to fuck me with her ass up on the kitchen sink
Got a bitch with tits, a bitch with ass
A bitch with none, but hey I give her a pass

And I love 'em all, I love 'em crazily
And they love me back, that's why they stay with me
So if you havin' girl problems, I'll be there for you son
Got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one, hit it
Nah, a bitch ain't one

I got a bitch that's old, a bitch that's new
A bitch who love velvet in the colors blue
I got a bitch who's fat, a bitch who's built
A bitch who all her titties give out powdered milk

I got a bitch who's funny, a bitch who ain't
A bitch who can sing, a bitch who can't
A bitch who loves fuckin' on a airplane
I even got a bitch off Soul Train
I got a bitch who rolls a rag-top Benz

Long ends, I got a bitch who's broke as a bum
But she's the most fun
I got a bitch who play piano, a bitch who don't
A bitch who dances naked, a bitch who won't
A bitch who's short, a bitch who's tall
A bitch who burns my pager with priority calls

And I love 'em all, I love 'em crazily
And they love me back, that's why they stay with me
So if you havin' girl problems, I'll be there for you son
Got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one, hit me

Yo Marquis, you from Miami, man, why don't you show
Mhese motherfuckers all the over the world the to live
Style of how the bitches treat a motherfuckin' fly nigga like you?

I got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one of them
I don't trip on hos 'cause I don't need none of them
Pussy's the temptation, dick's the persuasion
All hos suck cock, nigga, how you play 'em?

That's why I don't sleep on 'em, I just freak on 'em
Stick dick in they mouth, take it out and I skeet on 'em
The nigga the one nighter, the bitch exciter
I only love my hos when I'm goin' up inside her

Problem number one is gettin' money
I'd rather taste the green than sip the honey
So don't expect nuttin' 'cause I ain't offerin'
I go hard on my bitches 'cause I'm never never softenin'

Puttin' the demand on 'em, fuck 'em and scram on 'em
The 'Wham, Bam, Thank You Ma'am' game is ran on 'em
So, fuck how you feel, you fuckin' cheap thrill
I hope you took the pill 'cause I won't pay the bill

Gettin' pussy's just another expense
If pussy pays the bills then dick pays the rent
I only need a ho for one thing and that's to cum
I've got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one

Ha, yo Marquis, my motherfucker, you got problems, man?
(A bitch ain't one)
Aww shit, now let me tell you how to do this shit

I got a bitch that loves to G
She'll fuck you right after she fucks me
I got a bitch who loves both
I got a bitch who loves handcuffs and ropes

I got a bitch that's fast, a bitch that's slow
A bitch that's a virgin and a bitch that's a ho
A bitch that lies, a bitch that's true
A bitch who's a man because they're bitches too

I got a bitch that's cool, a bitch that's hot
A bitch who loves rap, a bitch who loves rock
A bitch who's lost and one who knows where it's at
She gets up under me and purrs like a cat

I got a bitch that runs, I got a bitch that walks
I got a bitch that yells, I got a bitch who talks
I got a bitch that's dirty, got a bitch that's neat
I got a super fine bitch that I knocked in the swap meet

And I love 'em all, I love 'em crazily
And they love me back, that's why they stay with me
So if you havin' girl problems, I'll be there for you son
I got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one, hit me

No a bitch ain't one, you knahm sayin'?
(Huh, you know a bitch ain't one)
I got problems with my motherfuckin' rent Marquis
But a bitch ain't one

Man, you got yourself nothin' man
Fuck them raggedy stank ass hos nigga

A bitch ain't one
I got a problems stayin' out here on these streets
With the police trying to take a nigga out, y'know?
But a bitch ain't one, got problems with motherfuckers
Buyin' my records but a bitch ain't one

Fuck 'em all, nigga, fuck them motherfuckers
You knahm sayin'? A bitch ain't one
Got problems man
All them motherfuckers can kiss my motherfuckin' ass f'real

Really, niggaz worryin' about bitches
They better, they better find somethin' else to worry about

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Dopeman - Lyrics - Mack 10

Title: Dopeman
Artist: Mack 10
Composer(s): Marshall Jones, Ralph Middlebrook, Leroy Bonner, O'Shea Jackson, Walter Morrison, Andrew Noland, Marvin Pierce, Gregory Webster, Norman Napier, Andre R Young

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

Lyric:
What's up dog?
What you need nigga?
Aw shit, one time

It was once said by a man who couldn't quit
"Dopeman, please can I have another hit"
The Dopeman said, "Cluck, I don't give shit
If you girl kneel down, and suck my dick"

Gave a nigga head, and homie tried to choke her
But he didn't care, 'cause she ain't nothing but a smoker
That's the way it go, that's the name of the game
Young niggas gettin' over by slangin' caine

Lex around my wrist in 18K Heaven
Bitches clockin' on my dick twenty four seven
Plus I'm makin' money, keepin' baseheads waitin'
Roll the six four with all gold Daytons

Live in Inglewood, California, CA.
This oozy up your ass if i don't get paid
Niggas beggin' for credit, I'm knockin' out teeth
Clockin' much dollars on the first and fifteenth

Big wad a money, nothing less than a twenty
Yo you wanna whole chicken, Mack 10 got plenty
To be a Dopeman, boy you must qualify
Don't get high off your own supply

From a Key to a G, it's all about money
Ten piece for a ten, base pipe come free
If people out there not hip to the fact
If you see somebody gettin' money for crack, he's the

Dopeman, Dopeman
(Mack front me a sack)
Dopeman, Dopeman
(I'll get ya back)
Dopeman, Dopeman
(Tryna stack me a grip)
Dopeman, Dopeman
(Man, fuck that shit)

You need a nigga with money, so you get a Dopeman
Juice that fool for as much as you can
She like his car, and he get with her
Got a black eye, 'cause the Dopeman hit her

Let that slide, and you pay it no mine
Find that he's slappin' you all the time
But that's okay, 'cause hes so rich
And you ain't nothing but the Dopeman's bitch

Do what he say, and you keep your mouth shut
Talkin' that drag might get ya fucked up
You sit and cry, if the Dopeman strike you
He don't give a fuck, he got two just like you

There's another girl in the Dopeman's life
Not quite a bitch, but far from a wife
She call a Strawberry, and everyone knows
Strawberry, Strawberry is the neighborhood hoe

Do anything for a hit or two, give a bitch a rock
She fuck the whole damn crew
It might be your wife and it might make you sick
Come home and see her mouth on the Dopeman's dick

Strawberry, just look and you'll see her
But don't fuck around, she'll give you Ghonorea
If people out there, not hip to the fact
Strawberry is a girl, sellin' pussy for crack to the

Dopeman, Dopeman
(From a ounce to a key)
Dopeman, Dopeman
(Tryna get this cheese, man)
Dopeman, Dopeman
(Cluckers riding my dick)
Dopeman, Dopeman
(Man fuck that shit)

If you smoke caine, you a stupid motherfucker
Know around the hood as the schoolyard clucker
Doing that crack with all the money you got
On your hands and knees searchin' for a piece of rock

Fienin' for a hit, and you lookin' for more
Done stole a Alpine out of Wavy six four
Smokin' like a train, man I wouldn't want to be you
Done took from the homies, betta run, when i see you

Ballin' everyday, doing more drug deals
Rollin' round town, on the twenty inch wheels
If people out there, not hip to the fact
If you see Mack 10, you can ask me for crack, I'm the

Dopeman, Dopeman
(Yeah, that's me)
Dopeman, Dopeman
(From a ounce to a key)
Dopeman, Dopeman
(Cookin' much as I can)
(Yo fuck that shit, who am I)
The Dopeman

Mack 10, nigga, you must be slick
Put Squeak on the team, now he stackin' chips
Good lookin' out, for showin' love
Now I got bitches on my dick 'cause I'm flossin' dubs

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Boundary - Lyrics - Guide To Better Living - Grinspoon

Title: Boundary
Album: Guide To Better Living
Artist: Grinspoon
Composer(s): Joe Hansen, Phil Jamieson

Lyric:
I've got a trademark
For registration
So get your gold card
And make me happy

I lost my brother
He was a good man
I'm sure the others
Will throw the ball in

Boundary
Boundary
Boundary

You tried to stop them
But they kept going
Penalty victim
For boundary throw in

Don't bother me cos
I never smoke that
I'm sure the others
Had an abortion

Boundary
Boundary
Boundary

You got a trademark
For registration
So get your gold card
And let's be happy

I love the others
I'm contradicted
You said, it's over
But I won't listen

Boundary
Boundary
Boundary

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Gangstas - Lyrics - Unpredictable - Mystikal

Title: Gangstas
Album: Unpredictable
Artist: Mystikal
Composer(s): Craig D. Bazile, Calvin Cordazor Broadus, Craig Stephen Lawson, Percy Miller, Michael Tyler

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

Lyric:
No Limit Soldiers
(Ugh)
DPGC, gangstas
(Ha, ha)
Look here, you got three crazy muthafuckas

In the same place at the same time
(Yeah, Master P.)
You know this shit gon' be off the hook
(It's gon' be the wildest shit you ever heard)
For my bitches down south, southern hospitality
(Representin', ya heard me)

From the cold, hard streets of the LBC
To a duet with Mystikal and Master P
Real G's ship keys and shoot dice on their knees
And put pistols to the mouths of their enemies
Old country ass nigga with a gold in the front
Be the same muthafucka that get your bitch ass stomped

Underestimatin' hatin' got you knocked out cold
Tryin' to play my boy over, you was with your hoe
Them South niggas bangin' off the shit that we write
Punk niggas get killed, straight on sight
No Limit ain't no gimmick, it's tragic you know
So don't be meddlin' with my boy and my hoe
Lay low, hit the floor, I'm back

Yo P, take me to the streets, that's where my heart is at
You make 'em say ugh, I make 'em say beeyatch
Together we can flip the script and get grip
You got the crack, I got the bud sack
Mystikal, smack, you got the strap
Deep in that gangsta shit on a night like that
You blast me, I blast you back, beeyatch

We 'bout to jump off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit
We 'bout to hop off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit
Know what, we're 'bout to jump off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit

We 'bout to jump off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit
We 'bout to hop off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit
Know what, we're 'bout to jump off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit

Got this fuckin' party poppin'
You cappin' and army braggin'
Gon' keep smugglin' in this game shit
Niggas ain't rappin' what you say about gangsta rappin'
You get killed forever, my nigga, every day
Where you get fucked up nigga is where you lay
Time again I tried to tell you

But you ain't wanna heard what I say
Damn leather dog bombin', done made a mistake
We made sound so good
([Unverified])
Keep that gangsta shit banging up and down your hood
'Cuz only real gangstas get down and to the bottom
Where y'all going, that much, we'll see right through ya

I'll out hustle ya, can't put up a fight 'cuz I out muscle ya
My really don't give a fuck, attitude got ya feelin' uncomfortable
I got that there, nigga you ain't saying shit
I'm colder than a brand new pair of Stan Smiths
Fresher than a whole box of green Altimos
But I got to blow your head off
And put bullet holes in your Girbauds

We 'bout to jump off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit
We 'bout to hop off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit
Know what, we're 'bout to jump off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit

B O U T we 'bout it
Real gangstas live muthafuckin' rowdy
And where you from is how you come
Where you be or you're at
Fool, watch your back for these gangstas in that black from
Long Beach to New Orleans
From every nigga in the hood to the penitentiary
Tryin' to survive on these streets

Slangin' dope 'cuz the kids gotta eat
Put it in a car or a plane, Grey Hound or a train
Sixty five when it came, eighty nine when it lay
I'm in love with miss mo mo, candy painted four
Twenty skirt with convertible, fuckin' polo
Bring the stylins of your talk, I mean real gangstas don't talk
Free your mind and refugee
Alive and turn your cheeks like Pras be

We 'bout to jump off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit
We 'bout to hop off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit
Know what, we're 'bout to jump off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit

We 'bout to jump off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit
We 'bout to hop off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit
Know what, we're 'bout to jump off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit

We 'bout to jump off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit
We 'bout to hop off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit
Know what, we're 'bout to jump off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit
...

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914e688ead50e0db7bfdd8c1b65977cd

Get Ready - Lyrics - Mase

Title: Get Ready
Artist: Mase
Composer(s): Nidra Beard, Dana Meyers, Charmaine Sylvers, Sean Combs, Andreao Heard, Mason Betha

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

Lyric:
See, the difference with me
When I do what I do
I do what I?m doing
But I?m doing it like I?m doing it for TV

Oww, oww, oww, oww, oww
Keep ya hands up
What, what, put your hands up
Come on, come on, keep your hands up

We back, we back, we back, we back
(Put your hands up)
We back, we back again
(Keep your hands up)
We back, we back, we back, we back, we back, we back again

I remember the days of prayin? my chips be right
Louie the 13, no more Cris tonight
Gold to me is like Superman and Kryptonite
So I pray how I don?t miss my flight, switch to night

Get out the plane, it all look strange
See a man from Spain, holding up my name
Give him my things and head down to bag? claim
And I hear somebody scream my name

So I look back, look once, look twice
Look fast, look left, look right
Look blink, look meeno, look myse
They try tell me honey don?t look right

So, I approach her, it all look kosher
But there was kids runnin' up with posters
And I was startin' to lose sight of chauffeur
So I had to say nice to know ya

Get ready, tonight
(Baby)
(What, what, what, what, what, what)
Gonna make this a night to remember
Get ready, tonight
(Get money all over again)
(Get ready, tonight)
(Get money all over again)
Gonna make this a night to remember
(Come on, uh, uh, all out)

Uh, yo, it just so happen this how Mase stay starred
Flip two aces and get two face cards
It happens, chip stackin?
I turn around, see a bunch of chicks clappin?

But a girl walked by, caught my eye
So I said, ?What the fuck, stand here and give me luck?
And she whispered in my ear
A purple one on there and put a pink one on there

I did just that and gave hud a stack, shout I'll be right back
In fact, I?ma be over here talkin? to love
Said you been around the world, been so many places
Hit so many girls, and spent so many faces

And every girl in the world know who Mase is
But right now that?s really not what the case is
Let?s be real, I know you got bills
So how ?bout one night and I just gave you a mil
Whatchu feel

Get ready, tonight
(Get ready, tonight)
(What, what, what, what, what, what)
Gonna make this a night to remember
(I'm gonna make this night to remember)
Get ready, tonight
(All out)
(Wanna blow)
(Tonight, yeah)
Gonna make this a night to remember
(H world, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on)

I don?t rap for rollies, I rap for starbucks
I?m that star who get the stars star struck
You a one hit wonder who caught some hard luck
I?m that kid cats can?t wait to scar up

But the show ain?t over until the bottles is empty
Then girls run out the club, follow the Bentley
Knowing that every president need a Lewinsky
Girls know I ain?t know you but they try to convince me

And any chick that I?m with already know
You ain?t gotta like Mase, but bet he blow
And anything that I do get heavy dough
Stop handcuffin? that girl and let her go

My whips got satellite, see it in the graphics
I ain?t only got eight 'cuz I fly passed it
Why ask is Mase a classic
Knowin? I?m from the hood doing deals with magic
Come on

Get ready, tonight
(What, what, what, what, what, what)
Gonna make this a night to remember
(Get money all over again, get money all over again)
Get ready, tonight
(H world get money again)
(Get ready)
(All out get money again)
Gonna make this a night to remember
(Wanna blow, get money again)
(So Bad Boy get money again)

Get ready, tonight
(No Limit get money again)
(Baby)
(Roc-a-fella get money again)
(Darlin')
Gonna make this a night to remember
(Untertainment get money again)
(Charli get money again)
Get ready, tonight
(Brandy get money again)
Get ready, tonight
(Cuda love get money again)
Gonna make this a night to remember
(Cardan get money again)
(Yo, even Cam? get money again)
(I'm gonna make this night to remember)

Get ready, tonight
(We back, we back, we back, we back)
(We back, we back again)
Gonna make this a night to remember
(We back, we back, we back, we back)
(We back, we back again )
Get ready, tonight
(Get ready, tonight)
Gonna make this a night to remember

Get ready, tonight
(Baby, oh yeah)
(Darlin')
Gonna make this a night to remember
(Make this a night to remember)
Get ready, tonight
(Get ready, tonight)
Gonna make this a night to remember
(I'm gonna make this a night to remember)

Get ready, tonight
(Baby, tonight)
(Darlin')
Gonna make this a night to remember
Get ready, tonight
(Get ready, tonight)
Gonna make this a night to remember

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9c443b368e72936224543aaaa555b693

Ghetto Honeys - Lyrics - Only God Can Judge Me - Master P

Title: Ghetto Honeys
Album: Only God Can Judge Me
Artist: Master P
Composer(s): Maurice Jordan, Percy Miller, Michael Robinson

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

Lyric:
When I see you, I like it right up and I
Feel all good and I want you for no lies
The way you walk, style of clothes you wear
You lick your lips and I can't help to stare
I think of you and I want you for no lies

I want a wife shorty, but let's get one thing straight
I can get you a Benz or a house by the lake
You want one with cameras, you want one with a gate
We could live like Tony Montana, girl we'd be straight

But you got to tell your moms to stop buggin'
Them dudes out there you rollin' with that's my boys and my cousin
I'd rather be caught with it, then caught without it
I ain't gonna lie, I've been to jail boo, I'm 'bout it 'bout it

I ain't tryin' to hide who I am shorty, I'm a thug
But I love the kids and I love the bud
My wardrobe is all t-shirts and jeans
I ain't hard to find babe, I'm on the corner with the team

But if you need me, girl I'm comin' runnin'
And if it be, me and the boyz be comin' gunnin'
I'ma tell you somethin' girl it ain't about the money
We gonna thug it 'till the end and I'm glad that you're my ghetto honey

When I see you, I like it right up and I
Feel all good and I want you for no lies
The way you walk, style of clothes you wear
You lick your lips and I can't help to stare
I think of you and I want you for no lies

You like minks and ice, I can buy you that
You caught a bus to the crib, you could take the six back
Slow down shorty, don't be in a rush
Ain't nothin' better then you and I, I mean us

We was made for each other, looked like sister and brother
Started out as friends, turned into lovers
I need your full attention, I'm feelin' your style
I don't talk too much but my homies buck wild

Tattoos and gold teeth, you know I'm thuggin'
I'm straight from the hood but that just means good lovin'
Don't judge a book by it's cover, I got big dreams
I wanna take mamma up the hood and put you on my team

We can thug together shorty grow together shorty
You could sleep over and we could get noticed shorty
From the first time I met you, I was feelin' you
And it don't feel the same when I ain't with you

When I see you, I like it right up and I
Feel all good and I want you for no lies
The way you walk, style of clothes you wear
You lick your lips and I can't help to stare
I think of you and I want you for no lies

When I see you, I like it right up and I
Feel all good and I want you for no lies
The way you walk, style of clothes you wear
You lick your lips and I can't help to stare
I think of you and I want you for no lies

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7ed33b7d65bff64f6b6e2c14a0dccf0f

Gold Digger - Lyrics - Late Orchestration: Live at Abbey Road Studios - Kanye West

Title: Gold Digger
Album: Late Orchestration: Live at Abbey Road Studios
Artist: Kanye West
Composer(s): Renald J. Richard, Ray Charles, Kanye Omari West

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

Lyric:
She take my money when I'm in need
Yea she's a triflin' friend indeed
Oh she's a gold digger way over town
That digs on me

Now I ain't sayin' she a gold digger
But she ain't messin' wit no broke niggaz
Now I ain't sayin' she a gold digger
But she ain't messin' wit no broke niggaz

Get down girl, go head get down
Get down girl, go head get down
Get down girl, go head get down
Get down girl, go head

Cutie the bomb, met her at a beauty salon
With a baby Louis Vuitton under her underarm
She said I can tell you ROC, I can tell by ya charm
Far as girls you got a flock
I can tell by ya charm and ya arm

But I'm lookin' for the one
Have you seen her?
My psychic told me she have a ass like Serena
Trina, Jennifer Lopez, four kids
An I gotta take all they bad ass to showbiz

Ok, get yo' kids but then they got their friends
I pulled up in the Benz, they all got a pen
We all went to Den and then I had to pay
If you fuckin' with this girl then you betta be payed
You know why?

It take too much to touch her
From what I heard she got a baby by Busta
My best friend say she use to fuck wit Usher
I don't care what none of ya'll say I still love her

Now I ain't sayin' she a gold digger
But she ain't messin' wit no broke niggaz
Now I ain't sayin' she a gold digger
But she ain't messin' wit no broke niggaz

Get down girl, go head get down
Get down girl, go head get down
Get down girl, go head get down
Get down girl, go head

18 years, 18 years
She got one of yo' kids, got you for 18 years
I know somebody payin' child support for one of his kids
His baby momma's car and crib is bigger than he is
You will see him on TV Any Given Sunday
Win the Superbowl and drive off in a Hyundai

She was spose' to buy ya shorty Tyco with ya money
She went to the doctor got lypo with ya money
She walkin' around lookin' like Micheal with ya money
Should of got that insured Geico for ya money

If you ain't no punk holla, "We want prenup"
"We want prenup!", yeaah
It's something that you need to have
'Cause when she leave yo' ass she gone leave with half
18 years, 18 years
And on her 18th birthday, he found out it wasn't his

Now I ain't sayin' she a gold digger
But she ain't messin' wit no broke niggaz
Now I ain't sayin' she a gold digger
But she ain't messin' wit no broke niggaz

Get down girl, go head get down
Get down girl, go head get down
Get down girl, go head get down
Get down girl, go head

Now I ain't sayin' you a gold digger, you got needs
You don't want ya dude to smoke but he can't buy weed
You go out to eat and he can't pay, ya'll can't leave
There's dishes in the back, he gotta roll up his sleeves

But while ya'll washin' watch him
He gone make it into a Benz out of that Datsun
He got that ambition baby look at his eyes
This week he moppin' floors, next week it's the fries

So, stick by his side
I know this dude's ballin' but yea that's nice
And they gone keep callin' and tryin'
But you stay right girl
But when you get on he leave yo' ass for a white girl

Get down girl, go head get down
Get down girl, go head get down
Get down girl, go head get down
Get down girl, go head
Let me hear that back

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a90b69d35f50da1164c8684a2178e0ea

Gypsies In The Palace - Lyrics - Live at Fenway Park - Jimmy Buffett

Title: Gypsies In The Palace
Album: Live at Fenway Park
Artist: Jimmy Buffett
Composer(s): Jimmy Buffett, Glenn Frey, Will Jennings

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

Lyric:
In days of old, when knights were bold and journeyed from their castles
Trusty men were left behind, knights needed not the hassles
They helped themselves to pig and peach
And drank from King's own chalice

Oh, it was a stirring sight, these gypsies in the palace
And as I told my friend Zachary Richard, when you leave home
Some things never change, hit it

So, long boss, knock 'em dead, don't you worry 'bout a thing
I wish that we could come along, we'd love to hear you sing
The limo's here, your bags are packed, the list is by the phone
Me and Snake will watch your place, treat it like our own

Look at all this liquor, look at all this food
It's only gonna go to waste, we're not really being rude
But the good stuff's in his closet, I swear he wouldn't mind
Hell, we'll just shoot the lock off, I do it all the time

We're gypsies in the palace, he's left us here alone
The order of the sleepless knights, will now assume the throne
We ain't got no money, we ain't got no right
But we're gypsies in the palace, we got it all tonight

There's damsels in distress up there and we got all this beer
We'll free them from their condos, bring 'em over here
We'll show them his gold records, play his music loud
We'll party just like Bubba does, we'll do the old man proud

We're gypsies in the palace, there ain't no wrong or right
We're gypsies in the palace, and a' goin' wild tonight

He's the greatest guy to work for, man he's really cool
Hey Snake this party's gettin' dull, throw someone in the pool
Let's all take our clothes off and form a conga line
Watch out for that broken glass, hey Snake, we need more wine

We're gypsies in the palace, there ain't no wrong or right
We're gypsies in the palace and we're raisin' hell tonight

Hi there boss, what's goin' on? You say you're coming when?
I'll send Snake out to pick you up tomorrow night at ten, okay
Everybody outta here, this joint is closin' down
We gotta find someone to clean this up, he's comin' back to town

Hi there boss, we waxed your car, we raked and mowed your lawn
We couldn't find enough to do in the short time you were gone
Man, it sure is peaceful here, you've really got it all
And if we ever hit the road again, give me and Snake a call

We're gypsies in the palace, he's left us here alone
The order of the sleepless knights, will now assume the throne
We ain't got no money, we ain't got no right
But we're gypsies in the palace, we got it all tonight

Hello? Hey, Jimmy, it's Glenn, Glenn, how ya' doing?
Fine man, I'm going on the road
Do you know anyone who could house sit for me?
I got these two great guys that look after my place man, they're the best

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3e18e3575f1278d29f415348a103ab07

Is That Your Chick - Lyrics - The Understanding - Memphis Bleek

Title: Is That Your Chick
Album: The Understanding
Artist: Memphis Bleek
Composer(s): Shawn C Carter, Timothy Z Mosley, Malik Deshawn Cox, Melissa A Elliott, Carl Terrell Mitchell

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

Lyric:
R O C, Memph Bleek
Jigga man, Missy, Twista, Sho' nuff
Yeah, yo

Don't get mad at me, I don't love 'em I fuck 'em
I don't chase 'em I duck 'em, I replace 'em with another one
You had to see she keep callin' me Big
(And another one)
And my name is Jay-Z, she was all on my dick

Gradually I'm takin' over your bitch, comin' over your shit
Got my feet up on you sofas, man
I mean a hostess for my open hand
You comin' home to dishes and empty soda cans

I got your bitch up in my rover man
I never kiss her, I never hold her hand
In fact I diss her, I'm a bolder man
Imma pimp her, it's over man

When I twist her in the gold sedan
Like I'm goldie man, you're bitch chose man
Jigga man, Iceberg with the frozen hands
Weddin' bands don't make it rosy man

Oh, is that your chick, why she all in his six?
With her hand on his dick, keep lickin' her lips
Is that your chick? Why she all in his ride?
With her hand on his thigh, keep lookin' in his eyes

Oh, is that your chick? You better tell her chill
While you all in his grill, don't you know that man kill?
Is that your chick? Why she beepin' him?
Keep praisin' him? 'Cause that's Bleek and them, trick

Yo, check it now, yo, yo, your hoe chose I
I ain't gonna lie, what I look like turnin' down chocha
Drove by, smokin' lye, recognize a pimp, open your eyes
Hop in the passenger side of the ride, damn Bleek, can't speak
Uh, huh, okay, what's up, shut up and close the door

Act like you been in the drop top on the open road before
Fix your weave, then fix me, ever gave head doin' 160?
Ever seen a pair of kicks this crispy
How you love how the white wife beater fit me? M-dot, him hot, them not
(That's gangsta)

Oh, is that your chick, why she all in his six?
With her hand on his dick, keep lickin' her lips
Is that your chick? Why she all in his ride?
With her hand on his thigh, keep lookin' in his eyes

Oh, is that your chick? You better tell her chill
While you all in his grill, don't you know that man kill?
Is that your chick? Why she beepin' him?
Keep praisin' him? 'Cause that's Bleek and them, trick

Tha Jigga and Twista got 'em screamin' like a demon
Fiendin' for the semen, Chrome gleamin' like the dome off Keenan
Gone while I'm leanin' smokin', I'm whip it in the stomach
Your bitch on the passenger side of me flashin' your money

Why you acting so funny? You know she been flirtin' while your workin'
Behind the curtain knuckles jerkin' for certain
Poppin' that pussy, sweatin' till no fluid is left
When I come in the party with J we gonna do it to death
You gon' ruin your rep, trippin' while we pimpin' these hefers

Playa lectures got me shinin' like a new Gator stepper
Must have been mad
When your ho put my stuff in the dash, bust in her ass
To climax I come up with a nab, the game don't stop

Legit ballers bendin' up the block
Niggas rushin', comin' at us 'cause of status and props
Suckin' and fuckin', loving it when I put tha dick up inside her
Can't help it if she yellin' with a ridah

Oh, is that your chick, why she all in his six?
With her hand on his dick, keep lickin' her lips
Is that your chick? Why she all in his ride?
With her hand on his thigh, keep lookin' in his eyes

Oh, is that your chick? You better tell her chill
While you all in his grill, don't you know that man kill?
Is that your chick? Why she beepin' him?
Keep praisin' him? 'Cause that's Bleek and them, trick

Yo, yo, why you home alone, why she out with me?
Room 112, hotel balcony
How she say Jay you can call the house for me?
There's no respect at all, you betta check her dawg

She keep beggin' me to hit it raw
So she can have my kids and say it was yours
How foul is she? And you wifed her
Shit, I put the rubber on tighter

Sent her home, when she entered home
You hugged her up, what the fuck is up?
She got you whipped, got your kids
Got your home, but that's not your bitch

You share that girl, don't let 'em hear daddy Earl
It'll make 'em sick that his favorite chick
Ain't savin' it, unfaithful bitch

Oh, is that your chick, why she all in his six?
With her hand on his dick, keep lickin' her lips
Is that your chick? Why she all in his ride?
With her hand on his thigh, keep lookin' in his eyes

Oh, is that your chick? You better tell her chill
While you all in his grill, don't you know that man kill?
Is that your chick? Why she beepin' him?
Keep praisin' him? 'Cause that's Bleek and them, trick

Yo, how dumb the pimp? I heard he trick
Bought a new five, maybe six
Copped that for his new down bitch
And I was diggin' that down since '96 shit

Memph man I'll take your bitch
Let her do her thing, give brain in the whip
And you know how it go when it come to the hoes
She can do the same thing to the clique you know

Your hoe chose, don't get mad at me
Got your wife callin' me daddy
Put her out on the street let her get that cheese
My bad is that your freak

But you know how a thug do
When a nigga hit that, it's fuck you
Keep it snug, tre deuce in the boot
Niggas wanna act, get a motherfuckin' slug too

Oh, is that your chick, why she all in his six?
With her hand on his dick, keep lickin' her lips
Is that your chick? Why she all in his ride?
With her hand on his thigh, keep lookin' in his eyes

Oh, is that your chick? You better tell her chill
While you all in his grill, don't you know that man kill?
Is that your chick? Why she beepin' him?
Keep praisin' him? 'Cause that's Bleek and them, trick

Cool out homie, you betta keep her away from my ballin' clique
Keep her out of nightclubs all in the mix
From hanging out with chicks who be swallowin' dicks
From catz who order Cris play the floor with the Knicks
That can only lead to something unfortunate

Hot boy like Jigga man scorch your bitch
Play the floor dot Jigga man go first then we all rock 'cause we all hot
You know the boys from the Roc got them whores on lock
Got them bitches in the smash makin' yours drive fast
'Cause we get more cash than the average nigga

All dem hoes like damn, I gotta have this nigga
'Cause I'mma hot black, how in the hell can you stop that
You would fuck mine, how the hell can you knock that?
I'm just playing the cards choosenly Jigga man who ya supposed to be?

Oh, is that your chick, why she all in his six?
With her hand on his dick, keep lickin' her lips
Is that your chick? Why she all in his ride?
With her hand on his thigh, keep lookin' in his eyes

Oh, is that your chick? You better tell her chill
While you all in his grill, don't you know that man kill?
Is that your chick? Why she beepin' him?
Keep praisin' him? 'Cause that's Bleek and them, trick

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f28651e50a521cca623657b64128a3af

Keep On Rockin' It - Lyrics - In Search Of Manny - Luscious Jackson

Title: Keep On Rockin' It
Album: In Search Of Manny
Artist: Luscious Jackson
Composer(s): Vivian Trimble, Gabrielle Glaser, Jill Coniff, Kate Schellenbach

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

Lyric:
Till it's all over

Original bone lovers straight from Manhattan
Keep your butt movin', keep your hands clappin'
Original one droppin', we never stoppin'
Always got booty, always keep rockin'

Two ladies who don't care for diamonds and gold
Who love the boys when they young or they old
Who always got something to say for themselves
Who put the high heels back on the shelf

Keep on rockin' it, keep on shockin' it
Till it's all over
Keep on rockin' it, keep on shockin' it
Till it's all over, till it's all over

The family jewel's between my legs
My wealth is my brain, my jewel's my eggs
My underarm hair is a nice little length
My earwax is few but this is my strength

Little boy blue, he got plenty of skin
He pull off the callous and put the skin in
He always got something to say for himself
He put the high heels back on the shelf

Be my follower, I won't stay long
I'm just lookin' for your mother's son
My reality is in your face
But every man must know his place

Keep on rockin' it, keep on shockin' it
Till it's all over
Keep on rockin' it, keep on shockin' it
Till it's all over, till it's all over

Feel me falling to my knees
Sound of children in the breeze
Keeps me down and pulls me out
My evolution is all around

Original bone lovers straight from Manhattan
(Be my follower)
Keep your butt movin', keep your hands clappin'
(I won't stay long)
Original one droppin', we never stoppin'
(Be my follower)
Always got booty, always keep rockin'
(I won't stay long)
Two ladies who don't care for diamonds and gold
(Be my follower)
Who love the boys when they young or they old
(I won't stay long)
Who always got something to say for themselves
Who put the high heels back on the shelf

Keep on rockin' it, keep on shockin' it
Till it's all over
Keep on rockin' it, keep on shockin' it
Till it's all over, till it's all over

Keep on rockin' it, keep on shockin' it
Keep on rockin' it, keep on shockin' it
Keep on rockin' it, keep on shockin' it
Till it's all over
Keep on rockin' it, keep on shockin' it

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856fb2f3a63031ed194af63a94e3839a

High Rollers - Lyrics - Greatest Hits: The Evidence - Ice T

Title: High Rollers
Album: Greatest Hits: The Evidence
Artist: Ice T
Composer(s): Charles Glenn, Tracy Marrow

Lyric:
Speed of life,fast,it's like walkin' barefoot over broken glass
It's like,jumpin' rope on a razor blade
All lightning quick decisions are made
Lifestyle plush,females rush
This high profile personality,who earns his pay illegally
Professional liar,schoolboys admire
Young girls desire,very few live to retire
Cash flow extreme,dress code supreme,vocabulary obscene
Definition-street player,you know what I mean

The high rollers

People of the city,stop foolin' yourself
Crime rules the streets,who the hell else
All the police have gone out to play
Because for enough cold cash they'll look the other way
Just look at the cars as they go by
Benz,Ferraris,trucks up high
Beepers connecting players to big-time deals
With all of this technology who needs to steal
Just live a life of leisure every night and day
And you're livin' proof that crime does pay
Your life is dangerous and reckless
You eat fly guys and girls for breakfast
You're a titan of the nuclear age
Your muscles flex with a Uzi or 12 gauge
And you love the game,that's why you boast
Because you're high priced,high speed.high post

You're a high roller

The high rollers

When I say high rollers,I mean the best
Forget the half-steppers,eject the rest
Because these high ranked officials of our city streets
Make millions all triggered by electric beeps
They dress in diamonds and rope chains
They got the blood of SCARFACE runnin' through their veins
Silk shirts,leather suits,hair always fresh
Eelskin boots,large hearts,though their sizes vary
Bankrolls that take 2 pockets to carry
Cruisin' in their 500 Benz Sedan
With their systems peaked out rockin' PUSHER MAM
Yes,their fashion's high and hard to beat
They buy their GUCCI from GUCCI'S not the swapmeet
Eat very weel,much clientele
And whatever you need,they probably sell

The high rollers

Oh yes,I'm here to tell you females also roll
Drive the same cars,somethimes wear more gold
Cold as an igloo,or hot as a flame
They'll shake ya,break ya and you won't know their name
Gangsters to the max,all marks will be taxed
These girls drive FERRARIS not CADILLACS
Respect is demanded,most men don't understand it
Till they peep the huge bank that these girls have landed
They're junkies for fun,love life on the run
And if things get hot,they will pull a gun
Prey on the lame,no shame to the game
And they all seek POWER,fuck the fame

The high rollers

Now radio stations probably won't play
This record because of the things I say
They'll say I'm glamorizing the hustlin' hood
And a record like this can do no good
But I'm not here to tell ya right or wrong
I don't know which side of the law you belong
Yes,the game has flash,but sometimes hurts
Behind any mistake,hard times lurks
And jail's not your only problem,though it may seem
You just may die by a barrage from an M-16
But to each his own,choose the mobile phone
The tailored suit,the luxury home
You'll never get caught,'cause you got nerves of ice
And you're much smarter than those crooks on Miami Vice
Right
You wanta be a high roller

The high rollers

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