Ante Up (Robbing-Hoodz Theory) - Lyrics - M.O.P.

Title: Ante Up (Robbing-Hoodz Theory)
Artist: M.O.P.
Composer(s): Jamal Grinnage, Darryl Pittman, Eric Murry

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Lyric:
Take minks off, take things off
Take chains off, take rings off
Braclets is yapped, fame came off
Ante up, everything off

Fool what you want, we stiflin' fools
Fool what you want? Your life or your jewels?
The rules, back 'em down next thing clap 'em down
Respect mine we Brooklyn bound, bound now, now

Brownsville, home of the brave
Put in work in the street like a slave
Keep a rugged dress code, always in this stress mode
That shit will send you to your grave, so?

You think I don't know that? Blow
Nigga hold that, blow, nigga hold that, blow, nigga hold that
From the street cousin, you know the drill
I'm nine hundred and ninety nine thou short of a mil

Ante up, yap that fool
Ante up, kidnap that fool
It's the perfect timin', you see the man shinin'
Get up off them god damn diamonds' huh

Ante up, oh, yap that fool oh
Ante up, oh, kidnap that fool
Get him, get him, get him, hit him, hit him, hit him
Yap him, zap him, yap him, zap him

Them thugs you know, ain't friendly
Them jewels you rock, make 'em envy
You thinkin' it's all good, you creep through a small hood
Goons comin' up outta a cut for your goods and they all should

Ante up yap that fool
You want big money, kidnap that fool
If you up in the club, back out your pis tal money
Catch them fools at the bar for that cristal money

The '87 stick up kids what you niggas sayin'?
Get the fuck up out that 740 shorty I ain't playin'
It's flash that thang time bang, bang time
Ante up, nigga, it's game time

Hand over the ring, take over the chain
Gimme the fuckin' watch before I pop one in your brain
Stop playin' these childish games with me
Representin' 1 7 1 8, dangerously, nigga

Ante up, yap that fool
Ante up, kidnap that fool
It's the perfect timin', you see the man shinin'
Get up, off them god damn diamonds' huh

Ante up, oh, yap that fool oh
Ante up, oh, kidnap that fool
Get him, get him, get him, hit him, hit him, hit him
Yap him, zap him, yap him, zap him

I'ma, street regulator, true playa hater
Get back down, make your ass a mack spraya hater
Things that we need, money, clothes, weed indeed
Hats, food, booze, essentials, credentials

Code of the streets, owners who creep
Slow when you sleep, holdin' the heat
Put holes in your jeep, respect the streets
It's the L I L F A M, M E, E

Yeah nigga Danze, gave you a chance
'Cuz I blazed your man, I'm in the wrong
He said he was strong
I had reason to believe he had some shit up his sleeve all along

So? Fuck you, your honor check my persona
I'm strong enough for old gold and marijuana
I'ma do what I wanna, quiet as kept
Raise hell till I was tired of stress, yes Lord

Ante up, yap that fool
Ante up, kidnap that fool
It's the perfect timin', you see the man shinin'
Get up off them god damn diamonds' huh

Ante up, oh yap that fool oh
Ante up, oh kidnap that fool
Get him, get him, get him, hit him, hit him, hit him
Yap him zap him, yap him, zap him

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha
The fuck, the fuck, the fuck
Nigga what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck
Ha, what first family, first family

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Back Again - Lyrics - From Me to U - Juelz Santana

Title: Back Again
Album: From Me to U
Artist: Juelz Santana
Composer(s): Gregory Omar Green, Harold Hudson, William Atwell King, Seon Thomas, Laron L. James

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Lyric:
I guess you

Back again, back with my forty-five, got a new car to drive
Charging to stay alive
Back again, same gangsta team, new gangsta lean
Chasing the fucking green
Back again, bently to the back, throwing welly tags
Lady's holla back
Back again, this time we here to stay, ain't got no time to play
Stay out my fucking way
Back again

Just like flash was
Bad like shaft was
React like cashews
What he did up in the ring with his back up
Against the ropes jab, jab, back up
It's all for what?
All for us
All for bucks
You chumps remind me of Mr. Softy trucks
Icy niggas, bannana boat, milkshake, ice-cream niggas
I dont like these niggas, nope
I pop shots hot glocks shoot through vans too
Oh boo bop blew ban boo move
And I'm fo really with this milly yo
Leave many hoes like the cereal cheerios
You into funny money
I'm raking the silly dough
The type that dont really fold
Just sittin' and gettin' old
I got the game in a loop kid kind of like snoop did
Its more then me its more the music I'm

Back again, back with my forty-five, got a new car to drive
Charging to stay alive
Back again, same gangsta team, new gangsta lean
Chasing the fucking green
Back again, bently to the back, throwing welly tags
Lady's holla back
Back again, this time we here to stay, ain't got no time to play
Stay out my fucking way

Come through new coupe Z three plus fifty
Me plus Jimmy speed up slow easy up quickly
Yeah, we puff really
Yeah, we just silly
Party buddies yeah he just kills me shit
And I'm sick in the mind
They dont understand this strife style lifestyle living of mine
But still I'm
Back again
Back with my forty five
Cadillac that my shorty drive
Maggy mad cause my shorty live
Back again
Straight from four forty five
West five three and Amsterdam
Also known as Gramsterdam
Way before the Santana man
Long time ago way before the bandanna damn
Young scrammy scram on the block hand and hand
Hard I was slanging it straight Laron James with it
No big star
No big car
One big rock
One big block I'll go far

Back again, back with my forty-five, got a new car to drive
Charging to stay alive
Back again, same gangsta team, new gangsta lean
Chasing the fucking green
Back again, bently to the back, throwing welly tags
Lady's holla back
Back again, this time we here to stay, ain't got no time to play
Stay out my fucking way

Now this has been one hell of a year
This has been one hell of a ride
I'm telling you guys
They thought we'd never survive Jacquline high
Or the great 'American Pie' weapons callide
Dead or alive
Left with no choice but to unbetter our lifes
Get up and strive
But um, get up and roll
Get up you know
Get up and go these muthafuckers ain't letting us go
So we get up and take it
Get up and make it
Happen for us
Nobody can get up and take this
And rapping we trust
Gak packings a must
Its part of my nature part of my wake up
Part of my waist yep
Part of my waist chump
For this part of my waist chump
Come part of your face yep
Yeah its Santana part of the great stuff
But really parton I'm great chump

Back again, back with my forty-five, got a new car to drive
Charging to stay alive
Back again, same gangsta team, new gangsta lean
Chasing the fucking green
Back again, bently to the back, throwing welly tags
Lady's holla back
Back again, this time we here to stay, ain't got no time to play
Stay out my fucking way

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Big Girl - Lyrics - Nastradamus - Nas

Title: Big Girl
Album: Nastradamus
Artist: Nas
Composer(s): Robert Douglas, Nasir Jones, Lamar Bryant, Roy Hamilton, Leshan Lewis

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Lyric:
(You're a big girl now)
Fully grown with your hormones now
Got your own home and you alone
Wanna bone, wanna moan, get your back blown out
(No more daddy's little girl)

You a big girl now in a world, where these niggas are foul
You could be aborting the next Michael Jordan
Your man don't wanna be around
(You're a big girl now)
She's sexy, she got it, she ride it

Every nigga wanna be inside it
(No more daddy's little girl)
I need her, I'll eat her
Do anything to please her
My ghetto queen of Sheba

I'm the type that'll get you by the fireplace
Get you hype when I lick it, put it in your face
Sipping red wine, is it bedtime
You can kick it with your nigga while we listen to Faith

I'm feeling richer today, I can hit it then stay
Lingerie make me take it to the kitchen and play
We got champagne, whipped cream, I'ma grab a bucket of ice
Bubble bath running and the candlelight feeling so right

It's your night, no stress, no fight
Mad at your ex 'cause his dough tight
Never go right when you're with him
Try you best to forget him 'cause it's easy to please me

CD skip when your head board hit the wall
Call for the Lord
Right when you cum, I'm biting your tongue
Make your legs cramp up, you can't stand up

You can hit a blunt if you want
I'ma pull my pants up
We can discuss a weekend of lust on top of the trust
Tell me what's the reason for us to love or to fuck

I'm the thug that you want
If it's gangster we can't front
If you want me I can stay around
If you need me, I'm here for you

How that sound?
Now it's up to you
Depending on how you wanna get down
'Cause you're a big girl now

(You're a big girl now)
Fully grown with your hormones now
Got your own home and you alone
Wanna bone, wanna moan, get your back blown out
(No more daddy's little girl)

You a big girl now in a world, where these niggas are foul
You could be aborting the next Michael Jordan
Your man don't wanna be around
(You're a big girl now)
She's sexy, she got it, she ride it

Every nigga wanna be inside it
(No more daddy's little girl)
I need her, I'll eat her
Do anything to please her
My ghetto queen of Sheba

Got your name and your number in my cell phone
Hear your voice and I wonder where you are, if you all alone
If you in a good mood, if you not
Or you thinking 'bout, you was at my spot

What we did when we got hot
Is you dreaming you had me?
Is you creaming your panties?
Like a king fed me grapes and you fanned me

On the couch to the floor, to the bed, to the sink
And we ate each other like candy
Under the covers, two intimate lovers
You fuck a nigga like you mad at me

Throw the ass to me, you should be glad to be
In the presence of a real thug as bad as me
While I'm in the streets with my murdering squad
You talking to your friends that I'm hurting it hard

How I'm making my rod, how I make you say, "Oh God"
Every hoe that you know wanna know Nas
Gotta dodge all the blow jobs, getting hard
'Cause you know how these girls are

Wearing tight shit, no panties, no bra
Running up to my car with menage a trois suggestions
Starting to get an erection
Guessing, only if you knew how your crew stressing

Complexion chocolatey, fondle me, thinking it's time to leave
I need time to breathe
Wanna follow me, Ironically
You pop up, throwing bottles at my Tahoe

Like it's my fault
But you don't wanna talk
Don't wanna hear nothing, all of a sudden
You and the shorty start scuffing

Now shorty dumping you out
Can't let her get the best of you
So I rescue you

Only thing left to do was to grab her
So you can jab her, get a cheap shot
You don't wanna feel chumped
Now here the cops come

So we gotta run to the ride
Then we drive off through the traffic
Don't panic but you know how we gotta manage
Looking at your face

And the damage in your facial
Every angle, can't let it faze you
No reason to be insecure or immature
Baby girl see the world is yours

(You're a big girl now)
Fully grown with your hormones now
Got your own home and you alone
Wanna bone, wanna moan, get your back blown out
(No more daddy's little girl)

You a big girl now in a world, where these niggas are foul
You could be aborting the next Michael Jordan
Your man don't wanna be around
(You're a big girl now)
She's sexy, she got it, she ride it

Every nigga wanna be inside it
(No more daddy's little girl)
I need her, I'll eat her
Do anything to please her
My ghetto queen of Sheba

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Bounce With Me - Lyrics - Beware Of Dog - Lil' Bow Wow

Title: Bounce With Me
Album: Beware Of Dog
Artist: Lil' Bow Wow
Composer(s): Jermaine Dupri, Da Brat Bryan Michael Cox

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Lyric:
See around here
I make things that make y'all bounce
Ya know?
Ya know what I mean?
Left to right, right to left
It's so so def
And uh it's goin' down
Ya know what I mean?
My man bow wow
Bow wow, yeah hear me now
Yeah ya heard?
Let's go, let's go, let's go

Around here we pop them collars
Around here we get them dollars
Every girl I see that look right
A nigga like me just gotta holla
This kid here all about stackin' up
Got big head but we can back it up
Long 'cause everybody get crunk
When we drop in the club starts acting up
I represent the s o s o, d e f m o b
That's me, J D, da brat, and J E
So please believe
What I do ain't never been done
Ohio is where I'm from
I heard what you said
And I saw what you do
And y'all playas really don't want none
From the day to the night, I rock
Say what you like, never not
Stayin' alive, living the life
Gots to keep it hot
Shotgun in the drop
Riding good, twenties, TV's, leather and wood
Poppin', watching big momma
Holdin' it down like a playa should
Sing a long now

All I wanna do is see ya
Bounce with me, bounce with me
Grab a partner hit the floor
Bounce with me, bounce with me
Some clap, clap others stomp
But around here we get it crunk when ya
Bounce with me, bounce with me
All I wanna do is see ya
Bounce with me, bounce with me
Grab a partner hit the floor
Bounce with me, bounce with me
Some clap, clap others stomp
But around here we get it crunk when ya
Bounce with me, bounce with me

It's the B to the O W
Wow even your girl fall in love
When I smile
The tight little guy you ain't seen in a while
Ignore the hype, just right for you size
I get in where I fit in
Braided up, made the bucks
And I'm still a kid
Imagine what life like when I get big
I'm ma be rich surrounded by chicks
Couple of cars, couple of cribs
Gettin' a couple of mills
Shining every time I feel
You see how so so get ill
You don't want no stuff up in here
Bow to the wow, in your ear now
I get down 'cause I'm hit bound
And I rock an iced out Mickey Mouse around my neck
And I hang on niggas like Vince Carter
With my arm in the net
And I outta snatch up your daughters
But I was brought up with respect
When I turn sixteen I'm ma call her though
And show her how to ride with a baller yo
Let her know why it wouldn't hurt her
To fall in love with a nigga like me along time ago
Sing a long now

All I wanna do is see ya
Bounce with me, bounce with me
Grab a partner hit the floor
Bounce with me, bounce with me
Some clap, clap others stomp
But around here we get it crunk when ya
Bounce with me, bounce with me
All I wanna do is see ya
Bounce with me, bounce with me
Grab a partner hit the floor
Bounce with me, bounce with me
Some clap, clap others stomp
But around here we get it crunk when ya
Bounce with me, bounce with me

I, I, I wanna see you bounce with me now
Take, take, take it down to the ground with me now
Shake, shake, shake it all around the town with me now
What'cha gon do shorty, what'cha gon do

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Chicken Hawk - Lyrics - Mack 10

Title: Chicken Hawk
Artist: Mack 10
Composer(s): Henrik Milling Rasmussen, Dedrick D'Mon Rolison

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Lyric:
Quietly I stalk niggas, call me the Chicken Hawk
Approach with my gun in a 2 one one
As I sickum, lay my victum, may I lickum
All action stop nobody move no pop

As I reck shop red alert make yo blood squirt
When I work in the brownies and the high top chucks to do dirt
Keep it sound, put it down my way
Protected by an AK, as I search for my pray

Through the ghetto, hit the peddle every corner I'm torning
Look for the money the kilos and the gallons of shermin' nigga
Till we meet I stash my heat, 'neath in my baggage
Do damage nasty as a savage, lookin' for the cabbage

Its own 20 grand I spot a bird in hand
As I spread my wing spand I swoop ready to land
Gotta get heem hit the spot grab the sacka nd I shake it blessed
With the game to make it bus its easier to take it, nigga

I'm a chicken hawk huntin' for a chicken
Stickin', my hit to ya brain with the cane, nigga
I'm a chicken hawk huntin' for a chicken
Stickin', my hit to ya brain with the cane, nigga
Don't make me kill everybody on this motherfucker

On a late night, creep the hawk soars on a mission
Mashin' through the hood nerd this nigga had the chickens
36 zones in each sack to be exact
Got 50 G's or more in street value worth of crack

As he put it down out of control with the cavey
Got Benzos on the grass twistin' front and back Cadeys
Capacino sted of coffe moet, no more rossie Rolex diamonds
All glossy, glossy Mr. Flossy

Sewed up the block keys to double up rock
I gotta lick heem nigga want know heen when I get heem me
Shoot strate never hesitate fools co-operate
Or I dagun tagum body bagum with my magnum

Heat in yo' chest how we do it in the west
I gaffle up yo' dope and fly back to my nest
I stalk hit up in chalk all over the sidewalk
It's Mack 10 foe life better know as the chicken hawk

Allo
Yeah nigga, I got yo bitch, so take all the chicks you got
And put 'em in a dumpster behind the
[Incomprehensible] or I killin' this motherfucker
Fuck this nigga don't give any shit
Bitch shut the fuck up right now

On a midnight flight the hawk glides through the breeze
Pull my wings at eaze as I lands in the palm trees
Overlook my lick, set my scope like a sniper
Hawk the bitch piper, be alarmed foe the type a fool

That ah hoo ride when he doo ride
I came ruff out the box Inglewood school of hard nots, nigga
A gaffle dick is all I ever gave a hoe
Where peneltons not a cape, so I can't save a hoe

Mack 10 just stepped off the 'Planet of the Apes'
Foe the money and dope, I never rapes I duck tapes
Bitches I mackum down, flagum down they pull over
Fill lucky as a fowe leaf, clover in a Range Rover

They never know its the hawk his self
My eyes reder than red with St. Ides on my breff
I draw down all this licken got me nervous so I'm twitchin'
Bitch two to the dome or take me to yo nigga chickens

I'm a chicken hawk huntin' for a chicken
Stickin', my hit to ya brain with the cane, nigga
I'm a chicken hawk huntin' for a chicken
Stickin', my hit to ya brain with the cane, nigga

Foe life

Hello?
Oh I see you Mr. Funny Man
Aw motherfuckin'
Yeah you're the kind of nigga that
[Incomprehensible] with your bitch
Well listen to this motherfucker

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efcd88dff5b465367fb2e15ba8a07f05

Cock It - Lyrics - Juve The Great - Juvenile

Title: Cock It
Album: Juve The Great
Artist: Juvenile
Composer(s): Terius Gray, Byron Thomas

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Lyric:
Uh huh, uh huh
Mic check, one, two
It's Juvenile comin' through
Uh uh, c'mon, c'mon

Who the man? If I ain't it, nigga can't claim it
I can take a small name and make it famous
I reason with no one homie, I got fa sho cliental
I'm a X L out here in the streets or lyin' in jail

I'm quick tempered, please limit ya words
I will send you in a hurry down south with the splurge
It's kind of hard to understand me 'cause I speak with a slur
But my guns speak a language all the people done heard

Streets sense gon' keep me in it for a minute
You fuckin' with a General, salute me Lieutenant
I'm not too particular with lies
I look 'em in their eyes, say a pray before you die

This ain't about me, this is 'bout somethin' that's spoke
You know runnin' with a nigga while you cuttin' his throat
Oh you loose lip bitches get hung from a rope, you know
Bagged up and throwed off the side of a boat, oh!

Cock it, take berrata then pop it
Give me that, out ya pocket 'cause the best can't stop it
East coast whassup? Down south whassup?
West coast whassup? Mid West whassup?

Cock it, take berrata then pop it
Give me that out ya pocket 'cause the best can't stop it
East coast whassup? Down south whassup?
West coast whassup? Mid West whassup?

Keep on makin' ya laws, I'm a keep breakin' them
I can move a package in any city I'm stationed in
If ya son touchin' my shit, you better pray for him
Bust his head and catch me a flight to where the hatred's been

I ain't the only solider they got a lot of these
All of these children make me know who dropped a lot of seeds
I smoke till my eyes shut, stay strapped
So if you think about sneakin', you better wise up

Hit you with the traqualizer, let it fill ya head
Paralyze you, have ya screamin', "I can't feel my legs"
Regardless of what a nigga or a bitch done said
The shell around ya get puked like eggs

I'm from the M A G N O L I A
My bitches gonna listen to what the hell I say
You niggas gonna respect it or get out my way
Or the Coroner's gonna happen to ya all time sake

Cock it, take berrata then pop it
Give me that out ya pocket 'cause the best can't stop it
East coast whassup? Down south whassup?
West coast whassup? Mid West whassup?

Cock it, take berrata then pop it
Give me that out ya pocket 'cause the best can't stop it
East coast whassup? Down south whassup?
West coast whassup? Mid West whassup?

You old niggas on ya last limb
Move over, let some niggas who really want it come cash in
Suppose to get killed for cock blockin' in cells
Solider bet you can't get no chronic up in hell

Fresh off the porch where the stash spot
I'm hungry tryna get the same respect that my dad got
Got the chopper, cut the weight, nice in the trash box
Nigga be on paper, so himmed up from the bad cops

How the hoes be actin', hopin' for child support
I need to snatch me a coat and endorse it with dope
I ain't even gotta speak on it I put my G on it
Niggas gon' let us get that whenever we want it

Beef is beef whenever the shit occurs
If it's real, it's gon' resolve into metal for sure
But hit the right one, he ain't respectin' my bad
My only satisfaction will be poppin' your ass

Cock it, take berrata then pop it
Give me that out ya pocket 'cause the best can't stop it
East coast whassup? Down south whassup?
West coast whassup? Mid West whassup?

Cock it, take berrata then pop it
Give me that out ya pocket 'cause the best can't stop it
East coast whassup? Down south whassup?
West coast whassup? Mid West whassup?

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Cradle Rock - Lyrics - Tical 2000 Judgementday - Method Man

Title: Cradle Rock
Album: Tical 2000 Judgementday
Artist: Method Man
Composer(s): R Dorsey, Elmer Franklin, Lisa Lopez, Clifford Smith

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Lyric:
All the children come into the light

There will be
Rock a bye baby from the rooftop
When the guns blow your cradle gets hot
When the earth quakes and the sky starts to fall
Down will come emcees, fake shit an' all

On top I be the show shot, the bomb drops
After shot blow your bumba clock to smithereens
Time stop, flyin' guillotine comin' for your flock
What you mean you spilled the beans, ah?

Blacked out an' thought I seen pop lazer beam glock
What's a bird to a brother with a flock, wha'?
They got some nerve to even try and share the turd
On John J, flap a nigga gate with the wordplay
Hot Nik shoot you with the gift, it's your birthday

God hatin' ugly in the worst way fuck 'em like the earth say
From first day I survey the hassle
Death knockin' at your door in the Big Apple
Meth rotton to the core

Shackle in the sound castle, the dungeon with vermin
In the form of emcees determined to step foot on God soil
Not knowin' that these egg heads come hard boiled
And heavy handed, the aliens we just landed and you in the way
Overthrow these niggas, planet Independence day

Felons get split melons homicide
Buck niggas get the bug repellent, insecticide
Johnny 5 take it worldwide as long as I
Pledge negligence to the dark side, I'll never die

Who ya know with a flow like this? Bring 'em in
What clan you know blow like this? Bring 'em in
Take that nigga

There will be
The sound of gun burst put the foul in this dirt
(Foul in this dirt)
You can't fake plannin' from the mind control theory
(Mind control theory)

Murder in the first bring 'em back down to earth
(Back down to earth)
Y'all niggas don't hear me prepare for the worst
(Prepare for the worst)

Times gon' change, nottin' will remain the same
Million dollar broke niggas still fucked up in the game
Make me wanna choke niggas shittin' on my name
Tuck your chain when I approach, nigga, go against the grain now

Niggas stand in the rain now
Die Hard fan call me John John McClain now
Snake vs the crane style death to the enemy
Wu brother number one the centipede
Trouble some, send 'em all to kingdom come

Sun still shine one time for your crooked mind
Drunk off of cheap wine, son I'm into street crime
Every word, every line got choose very fine
Turn me loose on mankind, detonate the land mine
Funk gets me goin' now, never sell, never sold
Live by the code now never tell, never told

Darts I throw like Clyde with the finger roll
Clut shots an' what not this is where the buck stops
Still can't eat and y'all still can't sleep
I elect myself as presidential emcee
Wu-Tang killa bee, the bee high facility
In love with the blunt smoke even though it's killin' me

Bad vibes fillin' me with thoughts of conspiracy
White water scandals with Bill Clinton 'n' Hilary
Too hot to handle, well put together to dismantle
Fucker, you heard me? Fucker

There will be
Excuse me as I kiss the sky
Catch me when I fall son I'm too young to die
Me and Lefty that be the eye come test me
If you don't know me you never know me, boost the birdie

Rock a bye baby from the rooftop
When the guns blow your cradle gets rocked
When the earth quakes and the sky starts to fall
Down will come emcees, fake shit and all

Ayyo, I got 360 degrees of self
That's mind body and spirit, a 120 degrees a piece
We gon' break it down into simple terms
That's nine nigga nine, highest level of change

It's too many niggas sittin' on they ass
Waitin' for shit to just happen, shit don't just happen
Don't fuck around and miss the boat
If you take away the negative, make room for the positive
Thats addin' and subtractin' on the real

Niggas betta learn they math
'Cause if my calculations serve me correct
I'ma fuck around and have all this shit
I'm on yo' ass nigga, I'm on yo' ass

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60190fd80b40bb9edc53dbed73f8cfff

Crawl - Lyrics - White Hot Blues - Johnny Winter

Title: Crawl
Album: White Hot Blues
Artist: Johnny Winter
Composer(s): Rodney Price, Moroder Kejuan W Muchita, Albert J Johnson, Tajaun Perry, Nasheim Myrick

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

Lyric:
I saw these fools tryin' to get around, tryin to let me down
And all dat, ha, but I got an easier way to let dem drown
Wit these Guns of Navarrone, I shall shoot dem like Al Capone
Take dem to the zones of bones, like dat, well
[Unverified]

Yo dunn, they tried to knock me down, bury me under
Big pipes soundin' like thunder
Skated by the skin of my teeth
I had to put a man in his place last week

Now why you wanna come at me?
I'm the wrong nigga to approach like that, homes
Wrong nigga for threats
Lone nigga wit long chrome

And we can dance till one of us drop
You score points fallin' wit good formation
I'm the wrong nigga for patience, wrong one at dunn
The very last nigga you should ever blast your gun

To the floor, actin' like you goin' to war
Now you fucked up, here come a real rocket launcher
Flame thrower, rule wit a iron rod
That be the Ruger, ya'll niggas keep tryin' hard

But who the loser when you can't walk your hood at night
And you can't come outside without fear
Am I in your thoughts often? While you be walkin'?

Foot soldier catch you at the store's corner
Keep me on your mind and don't slumber
Man the minute you slip wit those, that's your ass
[Unverified]

M O B B dunn, let's get it on dunn
Wit Bounty Killer, yo, it's like this dunn
Aiyyo cock that shit, pop that shit
Squeeze off, let em know how real this is

M O B B, D double E P wit Bounty Killer
No other gun runners keep a round like this
From Q U double E N S, my bomb borough, till the day of my death
Whether in shit I been in, runnin' down the block

Sprayin' shots wit the Lindon, listen
We all been through action, you know the last me blastin'
The last man standin, pack shit long than bare wake
Neither the Jake nor the snakes gon' stop it

You know the Mobb lettin' off rockets
Gun burners spit like lungies, dummies
Still nuttin' pop but the shells
These ain't words from hell these are slugs, something you feel
A gun runner nigga for real nigga

Yo hear my gat blow, make you spit out crack the axle
Of that brand new Six that you couldn't seem to whip
Empty the clip, make sure no friendly get hit
While you layin bloodied up in the Six

Flee the frontline, dismantle gat then bounce
Then watch the twelve o'clock news and hear them shout you out
Plug leak, slip rug right from under your feet
You runnin' the streets, you don't want no problems wit us
Everyday is like Fourth of July to us

Henny in my cup beside the gat you'll find in my clutch
Interfere wit the plan and you will get touched
Let the liquor talk for you and you will get touched
Full fledge, like Ra let 'em know The Ledge

While you slippin' off edge, your shorty's givin' me head
Cockin' 'em legs like guns when I'm cockin to spray
Poppin' your way, sendin' shit that's hot your way
[Unverified]

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cf0ac9ea04e89d1c420e4f7eb367c96e

2 Tears In A Bucket - Lyrics - Ryde Or Die: Vol.2 - Dmx

Title: 2 Tears In A Bucket
Album: Ryde Or Die: Vol.2
Artist: Dmx
Composer(s): Reggie Nobles, Clifford Smith, Kaseem Dean, Jackson Sean Jacobs

Lyric:
Ruff Ryders niggas, blood in, blood out
Sheek, Methical
Yo yo, hey yo

Soon as I cop the nine, I pop the nine
But when I take it out the box, I represent Lox
Now when I flow, you hit the rewind button
So I charge out more, want it all at the door

Fuck heat, Sheek, walk around with an oven
Who you gonna kill with that little Foreman grill?
How's it gonna look when I come through your block?
Sheek, Funk Doc, Meth on top

Porsche, 300 horse fly by
Back open, pumpin' How High
Yeah, can y'all see that, bitch
You can call me whatcha want 'cuz I'll Be Dat

Get off my dick, I don't care about no jewels
As long as the condo's paid and the truck I choose
I'm telling y'all niggaz, if it's not double R
You can spell my name out on the side of the car

Come and Ruff Ryde with us
If you wanna get high with us
If you wanna get down with us
Come on now, yeah, come on

Come and Ruff Ryde with us
If you wanna get high with us
If you wanna get down with us
Come on now

Yo, yo, I got a twin cam exhaust connected to the jaw
A five speed clutch on my paw when I write
I glow like the pegs in Lite-Brite
3000 volts of lightnin' when ya fly the right kite

Me and Meth be Hennesey, two ice cubes
We can draw or do I choose?
When I choose the grip, one shot lose your hip
I hope your shoes fit for this move and pick

My avalanche, it came with 10 feet of snow
I'm cold blooded, my fam half Eskimo
My flows move like endo
Turn ten nickels to ten loads out of ten stones

Ride the crash course, do the math on it
Swizz Beatz, you can ride Amtrak on it
But I'm on it, grillin' with George Foreman
Ya peeps is at the Grammy Awards cornin'

The ice, the fat wallet son, I won it
In the helicopter warnin' before mornin'
Def Jam nigga, Redman nigga, Doc
Fuck ya momma on my sweat band, nigga

You tough guys will get smacked in the club
With the gun that I bought from Mack in the club
It's P P P from Bricks to Brook-nam
Bring me some more ass to whoop on

Come and Ruff Ryde with us
If you wanna get high with us
If you wanna get down with us
Come on now, yeah, come on

Come and Ruff Ryde with us
If you wanna get high with us
If you wanna get down with us
Come on now, yeah, come on

Look what the cat dragged in
Underground dweller from the cellar bring terror
Scooper high yellow Cinderella, Meth forever
Never rush a rhyme, hook could never bust my nine
But if I have to, I have to

It's all in the mind, I stay ahead of time
While you're falling behind, trying to relight ya lime
It's a crime when I drop online's design
That tick, tick boom, blow your mind

Yeah me, M E T H the O the D
Can't be done like tryin' to find a penny in the sea
Nigga, run for cover son, go and get them guns
Y'all ain't from here, don't try to come around and gettin' ones

Swizz Beatz, the track in the head, but I instead
Pull my dart gun and bust sixteen until it's dead
I'm The Game, all of my dogs be off the chain
Yelling Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang

Come and Ruff Ryde with us
If you wanna get high with us
If you wanna get down with us
Come on now, yeah, yeah, come on

Come and Ruff Ryde with us
If you wanna get high with us
If you wanna get down with us
Come on now, yeah, come on

Come and Ruff Ryde with us
If you wanna get high with us
If you wanna get down with us
Come on now, yeah, yeah, come on
...

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e4c604824223e382a4beaef996d92f58

730 - Lyrics - Broken Silence - Foxy Brown

Title: 730
Album: Broken Silence
Artist: Foxy Brown
Composer(s): Dennis Deyoung, Inga Marchand, Michael Sandlofer

Lyric:
They say I'm 730, say I spaz out
FB is ill, she'll wild out
Can y'all feel my pain?
I can't let it slide
How could I smile when I'm hurtin' so bad inside?

Yo how can we start this? My life is thorough never heartless
I laid it down from the gate to the St Louis arches
From the Windy city to the streets in Cali
To them streets in Houston, my niggas always boostin'
Some bitches always holla, how they don't spend a dolla?
But that's because they ain't got it now tell me where's the logic
And if I talk it, I've done did it or about to do it
I'm makin' anthems, got a million niggas bouncin' to it

Bust your guns
And if that ain't enough then bust again
I've been thuggin' since B I Z made 'Just A Friend'
Matter of fact ever since Flava Flav was rockin' clocks
And even then there was no bitch that could compare to Fox
Let me head knock, pretty you wit' me right
This Prada fit me tight, this Gucci fit me right
Who could quickly write like seven joints and it be tight?
You know how hood we sound, you know it's Boogie Brown

Yo they say I'm 730, say I spaz out
FB is ill, she'll wild out
But can y'all feel my pain?
I can't let it slide
How could I smile when I'm hurtin' so bad inside?
They say I'm 730, say I spaz out
FB is ill, she'll wild out
But can y'all feel my pain?
I can't let it slide
How could I smile when I'm hurtin' so bad inside?

Yo my life is full of problems, sometimes it's hard to dodge 'em
So much you couldn't fathom, I wish, I didn't have them
They say I'm 730, pretty but I rap too dirty
The law is criticizin' me and probably never heard me
So what I crashed my range, my last name ain't changed
This time it's different though I'm not exploitin' names
Yeah I write my shit it's not a fuckin' game
So what he wrote some songs, I blew him up the same

I'm never duckin' dames, y'all know just where to find me
I would've killed her but it just wouldn't be fair to mommie
Imagine me doing time, Foxy behind bars
Not me the crime star, y'all bitches ain't worth it
Although my life ain't perfect, I'll never change a thing
Y'all want success but y'all don't know about the pain it bring
It's supposed to make you happy and keep your paper long
This beat is kind of ill, how could you hate this song?

Yo they say I'm 730, say I spaz out
FB is ill, she'll wild out
But can y'all feel my pain?
I can't let it slide
How could I smile when I'm hurtin' so bad inside?
They say I'm 730, say I spaz out
FB is ill, she'll wild out
But can y'all feel my pain?
I can't let it slide
How could I smile when I'm hurtin' so bad inside?

Man some hoes is always yackin', like I can't make it happen
Like they don't know my cash, like they don't know my past
Especially pop star bitches with the soft image
So what I ain't with him, bitch he's off limits
Be where I always be see who I choose to see
Although we're not together, his heart belong to me
See at times I think y'all bitches be confusing me
Like I'm somethin' sweet, shorty I'm still street

You're not on my level, and I won't stoop
And I'm the one that got you, kicked out your own group
Chicks be always thinkin' that I'mma let it ride
I might not kill you but I'll hurt you till your dead inside
Third album and you still wanna test Brown
I'm so hood bitches know how boogie get down
It could be real drama It's still the ill na na
There ain't a bitch wilda, any beef? Holla

They say I'm 730, say I spaz out
FB is ill, she'll wild out
But can y'all feel my pain?
I can't let it slide
How could I smile when I'm hurtin' so bad inside?
They say I'm 730, say I spaz out
FB is ill, she'll wild out
But can y'all feel my pain?
I can't let it slide
How could I smile when I'm hurtin' so bad inside?

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b089562fe54522246d49f937ebd3f419

Dem Boyz - Lyrics - U Gotta Feel Me - Lil' Flip

Title: Dem Boyz
Album: U Gotta Feel Me
Artist: Lil' Flip
Composer(s): Oscar Salinas, Wesley Eric Weston, Juan Salinas

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

Lyric:
Play an' skills

Is it 'cause dem boyz is out there shinin'?
(Shinin')
Maybe 'cause dem boyz is out there grindin'
(Grindin')
Platinum pieces with Canari diamonds
(Diamonds)
But haters they're talkin' but never mind them
(Never mind them)

Is it 'cause dem boyz is out there shinin'?
(Shinin')
Maybe 'cause dem boyz is out there grindin'
(Grindin')
Platinum pieces with Canari diamonds
(Diamonds)
But haters they're talkin' but never mind them
(Never mind them)

Well I'm back up in yo ear once again 'cause I run this shit
And I want rap about it unless I done that shit
We catchin' flights to Vegas, we stay away from haters
We always chasin' paper, we ballin' like The Lakers
We steppin' out in our gators, nothin' but pimps and players
All my close taylor plus I got hoes that at bayla

I'm like Popeye the sailor 'cause I smoke me spinach
(Why?)
And when my Benz pass by they'd be like I hope he in it
They'd know my shit ain't rented because I got two
(Why? I got to)
Yeah I got blue diamonds but these yellow rocks fool

Is it 'cause dem boyz is out there shinin'?
(Shinin')
Maybe 'cause dem boyz is out there grindin'
(Grindin')
Platinum pieces with Canari diamonds
(Diamonds)
But haters they're talkin' but never mind them
(Never mind them)

Is it 'cause dem boyz is out there shinin'?
(Shinin')
Maybe 'cause dem boyz is out there grindin'
(Grindin')
Platinum pieces with Canari diamonds
(Diamonds)
But haters they're talkin' but never mind them
(Never mind them)

I got baguettes in the middle of my chain
H2 in the middle of the lane doin' donuts in the middle of the rain
If you in a wreck can I get a little brain
I ain't gotta spend a thing for me to hit ya dame
I smoke so much dro hoe I might forget your name
Stop don't make me cock it and pop it and reload quick
I'm like Bone Crusher I ain't never scared bitch

I'm into makin' bread bitch and ridin' candy red shit
I'm doin' this for pimp C and my nigga head bitch
'Cause when the feds hit I don't wanna be around
I'm a be real with you, I don't wanna be in town
'Cause when I'm on the road, I'm gettin' more dough
(Road, dough)
I'm gettin' unreleased, Jordans straight from Tokyo

Is it 'cause dem boyz is out there shinin'?
(Shinin')
Maybe 'cause dem boyz is out there grindin'
(Grindin')
Platinum pieces with Canari diamonds
(Diamonds)
But haters they talkin' but never mind them
(Never mind them)

Is it 'cause dem boyz is out there shinin'?
(Shinin')
Maybe 'cause dem boyz is out there grindin'
(Grindin')
Platinum pieces with Canari diamonds
(Diamonds)
But haters they talkin' but never mind them
(Never mind them)

Whenever I'm buyin'
(Ice)
I'm like fuck the
(Price)
'Cause no matter how much I spend Johnny gon' have me
(Right)
Johnny gon' have me
(Right)

Yellas mixed with
(White)
Yo chain shinin' in the day but look at mine when it's night
You see the difference in the rocks, they look like blocks
Red, white, and blue diamonds got me lookin' like the cops
Everybody pullin' over 'cause they think they gettin' stopped
Oh my bad that's my chain and my mothafuckin' watch

Heh that's how we doin' it man, Lil' Flipper
Play an' skills on the track, this that shit that make niggas bounce
If you in a drop top make that mothafucker bounce
Stick ya mothafuckin' pinky ring out the window 'cause
Shinin'
(Southside)
Grindin'
(Northside)

Diamonds
(Eastside)
Never mind them
(Westside)
Haa haa that's how we do it man, Lil' Flipper underground legend
You gotta feel me, you gotta feel me
I ain't fuck off my budget you gotta feel me haa haa
Yeah y'all buyin' them old high ass tracks, I'm like fuck it shit I ain't settlin'
I'll fuck wit play an' skills haa haa bitch, bitch

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7dcc1dd6c98d11561c4265a9b1ff175b

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 In My Pinky Ring - Lyrics - King of Crunk & Bme Recordings Present: Lil Scrappy & Trillville Chopped & Screwed - Lil Scrappy

Title: Diamonds In My Pinky Ring
Album: King of Crunk & Bme Recordings Present: Lil Scrappy & Trillville Chopped & Screwed
Artist: Lil Scrappy
Composer(s): Harry Ii Bing, Stanley Burdine, Bernard Mayberry, Darryl Richardson Ii, Joe Bing, Clarence Jones, Christopher Bell

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

Lyric:
I'mma flip paint, filp paint, roll daint, daint
Money in the bank, bank diamonds in my pinky ring
I'mma flip paint, filp paint, roll daint, daint
Money in the bank, bank diamonds in my pinky ring

I'm so addicted to makin' money it's funny
My speakers beat the block so the hatas they hear me comin'
The can of paint flippin' and swervin' it make ya pick up
Today I'm feelin' good so I'm destined to pick a bitch up

Put it all on my chedda my diamonds shinnin' like I'm richer
But chrome wheels spinnin' so people can take a picture
Ain't never comin' flo throw some diamonds in my jaw
Put some pipes on the back I be shakin' them hatas off

Stay connected wit some head bussas hatas comin' round
But ain't no competition dug them bitches in the ground
'Cause I'm balln' like I'm posed to money in the bank
Wanna get on my level but they flo'n they know they can't

I'mma flip paint, filp paint, roll daint, daint
Money in the bank, bank diamonds in my pinky ring
I'mma flip paint, filp paint, roll daint, daint
Money in the bank, bank diamonds in my pinky ring

Big bang take lil' bang fuck what you damn think
Gettin' to the bread and look blind by the pinky ring
Disorderly conduct I could really give a fuck
Stay buck in the crowd and yo face staight sippin' crunk

I'm gettin' to the money so fuck the nonsense
I'm a G motha fucka I leave your head in dents
I got that action yeah I make money with a pasion
Like E-40 with clips I load clips on the mac

And man I'm gettin' rich so fuck the bullshit
Gotta swing on a nigga man fuck that bitch
'Cause I don't know what you been told
But I got gats and I got jewels

And scrappy talkin' shit I fuck yo bitch on the regula
I'm gettin' paid, look shorty I damage ya
Them hoes gon' love me, hatas wanna bust me
And I pitty the fool who really wanna touch me 'cause

I'mma flip paint, filp paint, roll daint, daint
Money in the bank, bank diamonds in my pinky ring
I'mma flip paint, filp paint, roll daint, daint
Money in the bank, bank diamonds in my pinky ring

See this money I made it, baby shake it for daddy
Go get your friends and pussy pop it for me a Lil' Scrappy
And niggas don't wait I'll stab ya that 45 I grab it
And cock it back and let you pussy mothafuckas back

Who want it you seen it I did it?
Bitch I switch glocks and switch spots if it get hot
Switch rocks and switch bras on they ass
And then I keep 'em admiring my long dreds and glasses

Now I'mma flip paint, flip paint smoke daint, daint
Money in the bank, bank with diamonds in my teeth and chain
And check out my pinky ring, you know it's blingin man
I'm jumpin' outta the Benz with diamonds all on my wrist and thangs

I'm gettin' to this paper like I'm supposed to be
Muh'fucka in the street label me a young G
Diamonds in my pinky ring, get my watch and my chains
Bringin' pain to the gain lickin' all of these lanes

A K A mister T the platinum version
Every nigga gonna hate if they're pockets be hurtin'
Straight from Atlanta told me web was like a black pantha
Stackin' paper like my name was Tony Montana

It's G's up so get your G's up
I don't like to get violent but I'll fuck your ass up
Hey, you don't really wanna taste my nuts
Make a meal out the deal and I'm still gettin' bucked

I'mma flip paint, filp paint, roll daint, daint
Money in the bank, bank diamonds in my pinky ring
I'mma flip paint, filp paint, roll daint, daint
Money in the bank, bank diamonds in my pinky ring

I'mma flip paint, filp paint, roll daint, daint
Money in the bank, bank diamonds in my pinky ring
I'mma flip paint, filp paint, roll daint, daint
Money in the bank, bank diamonds in my pinky ring

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8d39015b78d30fb4585ec48aa39a77c4

Die One Day - Lyrics - The Hunger for More - Lloyd Banks

Title: Die One Day
Album: The Hunger for More
Artist: Lloyd Banks
Composer(s): R. Williams, R.A. Adair, David Porter, C. Lloyd

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

Lyric:
I keep my hip on pound 'cause shit gets hectic in my town
Drag my family with me 'cause that's how real niggas get down
If it wasn't for 50 I probably wouldn't be around
Caught up in the temptation sitting in jail or in the ground
If for that if you snap a finger and I'll lay a nigga down
It's fucked up when your only facial expression is a frown
A hood rat will put a future in a fool's pants
Till she find out you can't buy furniture with food stamps

A year ago I made a decision before I shut my eyelids
Better if I get shot tomorrow 'cause I don't like surprises
When you hot as an oven they embrace you with open arms
When you cold as a freezer niggas treat you like they don't need you
Some people call it me I call it amnesia
Live my life principal driven never bite to have that feature
Never mind all the haters fuck 'em all let them die slow
All I need is my niggas, money, liquor and hydro, I know

Everybody gon' die one day
Whether it's natural 'cause it's a gun play
But fuckin' with me you sliding down a one way
I keep it gangsta from Monday to Sunday

Nigga, everybody gon' die one day
Whether it's natural 'cause it's a gun play
But fuckin' with me you sliding down a one way
I keep it gangsta from Monday to Sunday

Don't blame me blame my mom and pop for breeding this
The game needed this Lloyd Banks A.K.A. Mr. I don't feed a bitch
Or need a bitch, I stay there when I need a bitch
You want a trick you need to switch 'cause I don't trick Adidas bitch
This is all I gotta have to blow so whether it's fast or slow
Platinum flow making it easy to kidnap a hoe
Pop the bag, pass the dro, roll about a half an O
Legit citizenship, my clique is international

You gotta agree, these motherfuckers will probably find
Bin Laden before they find a nigga hotter than me
We on top as far as I can see and since the hood watching me
My regular trip to the mall is a shopping spree
I'm the number one draft pick none of y'all are topping me
I move around with the plastic you ain't dropping me
They show me love on my city
They fuckin' with me and I'm fuckin' with them
Nigga G-Unit till the end

Everybody gon' die one day
Whether it's natural 'cause it's a gun play
But fuckin' with me you sliding down a one way
I keep it gangsta from Monday to Sunday

Nigga, everybody gon' die one day
Whether it's natural 'cause it's a gun play
But fuckin' with me you sliding down a one way
I keep it gangsta from Monday to Sunday

Six inches from a coffin
So I suggest you stop talkin'
Make me resort to violence
And you'll no longer be walkin'
Six inches from a coffin
So I suggest you stop talkin'
Make me resort to violence nigga

Yeah
You gotta love it

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1fda6f872bf65a0ab6b6869e62d9d517

Alright - Lyrics - Philadelphia Freeway - Freeway

Title: Alright
Album: Philadelphia Freeway
Artist: Freeway
Composer(s): Ronnie Foster, Leslie Pridgen, Allen Anthony, J Smith

Lyric:
State property, Roc-a-fella records
This that feeling music you know
We make that music you can feel early
Just blaze

I went from the ghetto to the ghetto and I'm back again
And we doing it back and forth
Roll with a gang of thugs my burner my hood passport
Fresh from the airport I'm back again

And I clap your men
I'm from a block where niggas might blast your pops
No chance ambulance can't save your kin
Smoke reefer burn reefer chill in my spot

Instead of making Selat drink liters of gin
I'm drunk again I'm high again
I just might fly a kite
To my niggas up state knocked off in the pen

They booked in a jail, I'm booking a flight
It's fucked up last year we was all on the block
This can't be life this can't be love
They roll with a whack, I roll with a snub, we all in a fight

Alright
(Woo)
Baby don't you cry
(Ugh)
Alright
(Tell 'em)
Everything's gon' be alright

Alright
(Woo)
I know we can make it through this
Alright
(Tell 'em)
Don't let go hold on tight
(Ugh)

Alright
Alright
Alright
Baby don't you cry

Every thing gon' be alright all night
Free is on his job let the music play
And I ain't come to hurt nobody tonight
But if a dude get out of line put him back in tech

Must be out his mind let the ruger spray
Clap until we alright all out of dodge
(Alright)
That's right crush the club tonight with a watch on the Robb Report
(Sweet)
Check on the war report, check on the stores we bought
(Yeah)
Check on the kids and shit

Hope everything's alright all night 'cause all day pop in the mix
I might pop rock stars pop up on your strip
Free pop out hits get paid for my thoughts and that's alright
And my label the shit

Alright
(And you hating the click)
Baby don't you cry
(Woo)
Alright
(Tell 'em)
Everything's gon be alright

Alright
(Woo)
I know we can make it through this
(Tell 'em)
Alright
(Yeah)
Don't let go hold on tight

Alright, alright
(Woo)
Alright, alright
(Geah)
Alright, yeah

I came from the hood and I'm bringing the hood with me
(And don't you worry about a thing)
It ain't a thing I'm bringing them things with me scrap
And I take 'em around the globe travel around the globe
Been to Paris and back again

Free fall back get stacks with a pen
Still move like a king pen clapping you forward
I went from gat in the tux
Snatching your gold to platinum and gold plaques on the tuck

Same shit different line up work gat and a tech
I might get with Mac and act up in a Bent
We came a long way from a pack and tech
(We got to reach for something better)
Geah

Alright
(Woo)
Oh oh baby
(Geah)
Alright
(Woo)
Everything's gon' be alright for you and me
(Geah)

Alright
(Right geah)
Come on
(Ugh it's the Roc)
Alright
(It's the Roc)
Alright, hey hey hey yeah
(Geah)

Alright
(Geah)
Alright, oh oh oh yeah
(Geah)
Alright
(Holla)

Alright
All my homeboys out there dying
(Tell 'em)
Alright
Hey, this world's a crazy place
(Geah)

Alright, oh
(Geah)
Why didn't I find my place
(Yes)
Alright
Alright alright
(Clap clap clap clap)
(Holla)

Alright
(Holla)
Alright
(Geah)
Alright
(Oh baby, everything is gon' be alright)

Young Free, Allen Anthony
The Roc is definitely in the building
Woo, geah, geah, woop woop geah
Clap clap clap clap clap, woo woo woo

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e39226cf377bf2b43e91de9f6ad5c0dd

Do My - Lyrics - The Understanding - Memphis Bleek

Title: Do My
Album: The Understanding
Artist: Memphis Bleek
Composer(s): Shawn Carter, Malik Cox, Patrick Lawrence

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

Lyric:
Turn that motherfucker louder
It's the Roc in this motherfucker, biotch
Oh yeah, bounce, uh uh, bounce
Yeah, yeah bounce, come on
Oh come, on bounce, come on

Do my ladies run this motherfucker?
Yeah, yeah, come on
Or do my thugs run this motherfucker?
Yeah, yeah, come on

Do my ladies run it fat asses and flat stomachs
Throw a hand in the air if it's the year of the woman
Or my dogs run it, let 'em know that you're still gunnin'
Throw a drink in the air let 'em know you still thuggin'

Yo I come through, few of my man's
Scoop you and your friends
You, you, and you with the Timbs
In tight jeans, Chinese eyes

Indian hair, Black girl ass
Let me pour you a glass of Belvi
Tell me all about your past
Let me console your soul while I palm your ass

And your man did what? He ain't give you?
He cheated with her, I can't diss duke
I tell you this though get with this dude
I'll teach you about dough and show you what this do

It's a secret society, all we ask is trust but I don't freeze bitches
Just skeeze bitches break up happy homes
Just seize misses you'll never get her back once you get a yacht
How you love that? How you love that?

Do my ladies run this motherfucker?
Yeah, yeah, come on
Or do my thugs run this motherfucker?
Yeah, yeah, come on

Do my ladies run it fat asses and flat stomachs
Throw a hand in the air if it's the year of the woman
Or my dogs run it, let 'em know that you're still gunnin'
Throw a drink in the air let 'em know you still thuggin'

Ay, yo back woods rollin', rap you can't hold 'em
ROC gear matchin' crews Bleek is chillin', Murda is chillin'
What more can I say? We still killin' 'em
Bags we still dealin' 'em, four wheels, we wheelin' them

Chicks like I'm feelin' him, yeah ma okay
Black jeans and Timberlands, give them adrenaline rush
Ladies know the difference between them niggas and us
We the R-O-C and we don't stop
They don't make a gun that we don't pop

Matter fact they don't make a car that we don't drop
Thought you knew they don't make jewels that we don't cop
What you knew? You actin' like the ROC ain't hot
Or the car that I cop ain't missin' a top

And even if they don't make drops that kind
I tear da roof off like I'm Busta Rhymes motherfucker

Do my ladies run this motherfucker?
Yeah, yeah, come on
Or do my thugs run this motherfucker?
Yeah, yeah, yeah come on

Do my ladies run it fat asses and flat stomachs
Throw a hand in the air if it's the year of the woman
Or my dogs run it, let 'em know that you're still gunnin'
Throw a drink in the air let 'em know you still thuggin'

Do my ladies run this motherfucker?
Okay
Or do my thugs run this motherfucker?
Uh-huh, okay, uh-huh
Come on, come on

It's the R O C, we don't stop
R O C, we don't stop
R O C, we don't stop
Uh Memp Bleek, the understanding niggas
Get your mind right, ha ha

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46e07c7888ac44d60429060ec39ae8b5