Showing posts sorted by relevance for query 4 The Rest Of Your Life. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query 4 The Rest Of Your Life. Sort by date Show all posts

Monday, August 23, 2010

4 The Rest Of Your Life - Lyrics - I Don't Want You Back - Eamon

Title: 4 The Rest Of Your Life
Album: I Don't Want You Back
Artist: Eamon
Composer(s): Mark Passy, Yared Williams, Eamon Doyle, Mark Robinson

Lyric:
I may not be your man baby
But you know I'm driving you crazy
That's why you'll fuck with me
4 the rest of your life
I know your lovin' the sex
Swallow it up it's better than X
That's why you stuck with me
4 the rest of your life

In your room cryin' over bullshit
'Cause you know only I could hit it
The way you like it girl
It's been a while but you'll really can't tell
'Cause when we fuck you know it's hot as hell
Don't be mad be glad that you got me girl

You can't stand me and you don't love me
But why do you keep calling me girl
You say 'cause your bored, I am not so sure
My lips are shut as long as you stay open

I may not be your man baby
But you know I'm driving you crazy
That's why you'll fuck with me
4 the rest of your life
I know your lovin' the sex
Swallow it up it's better than X
That's why you stuck with me
4 the rest of your life

Rumors spread, that I don't act right
But I'm good when it's late at night
Pop that shit, I'm laughin'
It was love, now it's just make love
How I love, that I'm not enough
Do your thing, it's okay 'cause you know I am

You can't stand me and you don't love me
But why do you keep calling me girl
You say 'cause your bored I am not so sure
My lips are shut as long as you stay open

I may not be your man baby
But you know I'm driving you crazy
That's why you'll fuck with me
4 the rest of your life
I know your lovin' the sex
Swallow it up it's better than X
That's why you stuck with me
4 the rest of your life

You don't love me, you don't trust me
Don't wanna be with me
You just wanna fuck with me
I don't love you, I don't like you
Don't wanna be with you
I just wanna fuck with you

I may not be your man baby
But you know I'm driving you crazy
That's why you'll fuck with me
4 the rest of your life
I know your lovin' the sex
Swallow it up it's better than X
That's why you stuck with me
4 the rest of your life

I may not be your man baby
But you know I'm driving you crazy
That's why you'll fuck with me
4 the rest of your life
I know your lovin' the sex
Swallow it up it's better than X
That's why you stuck with me
4 the rest of your life

I may not be your man baby
But you know I'm driving you crazy
That's why you'll fuck with me
4 the rest of your life
Rest of your life

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Tuesday, August 17, 2010

What Are You Doing The Rest Of Your Life - Lyrics - Sinatra: New York (4 CD/1 DVD) - Frank Sinatra

Title: What Are You Doing The Rest Of Your Life
Album: Sinatra: New York (4 CD/1 DVD)
Artist: Frank Sinatra
Composer(s): Alan Bergman, Michel Legrand, Marilyn Bergman

Lyric:
I want to see your face in every kind of light
In fields of dawn and forests of the night
And when you stand before the candles on a cake
Oh, let me be the one to hear the silent wish you make

What are you doing the rest of your life?
North and south and east and west of your life
I have only one request of your life
That you spend it all with me

All the seasons and the times of your days
All the nickels and the dimes of your days
Let the reasons and the rhymes of your days
All begin and end with me

I want to see your face in every kind of light
In the fields of dawn and the forests of the night
And when you stand before the candles on a cake
Oh, let me be the one to hear the silent wish you make

Those tomorrows waiting deep in your eyes
In the world of love that you keep in your eyes
I'll awaken what's asleep in your eyes
It may take a kiss or two

Through all of my life
Summer, winter, spring and fall of my life
All I ever will recall of my life
Is all of my life with you

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Thursday, August 19, 2010

Policeman'S Xmas Party - Lyrics - Two Lights - Five For Fighting

Title: Policeman'S Xmas Party
Album: Two Lights
Artist: Five For Fighting
Composer(s): John Ondrasik

Lyric:
Welcome to the first day of the rest of my life
The tension is so think you can cut it with a knife
Something happened, things will never be the same
There's blood on the carpet, I'm rewiring my brain, yeah

I got some new friends down at West Valley PD
You can change the channel but I'm all that's on TV
The only good news that he's going to be okay
Got a bomb in my stomach but I'm dreamin' that one day

I'll be going to a Policeman's Xmas party
Have a couple beers, get funky on the dance floor
Going to a Policeman's Xmas party
Gonna have a good time for the rest of my life

4 weeks later it's still raining in the park
Marine with a gun guards my house now after dark
I look for clues like I'm Inspector Clouseau
Well, you can have my money, honey, I just want to go

Go to a policeman's Xmas party
Have a couple beers, get my funky on the dance floor
Go to a policeman's Xmas party
Gonna have a good time for the rest of my life

There's cops on the ceiling, there's cops on the floor
There's cops in the windows, cops breaking down the door
You'll never feel safer in your life
The captain even likes to get freaky on my wife

We're going to a Policeman's Xmas party
Have a couple beers, get my funky on the dance floor
Going to a Policeman's Xmas party
Gonna have a good time for the rest

Welcome to the best day of the rest of my life
My buddies broke the case and now it's gonna be alright
Moral of the story, it don't matter who you are
Be careful what you wish for, they'll be calling you a rock star

People from Earth there's never been a harder core
Party like this party in a million years or more
The floor itself is hopping like a freaking kangaroo
The D.J.'s in his P.J.'s playing, 'Everybody Wants You'

Going to a policeman's Xmas party
Have a couple beers, get funky on the dance floor
Going to a policeman's Xmas party
Going to have a good time the rest of my life

Take off your clothes, take off everything you are
Take off your heart, get funky on the dance floor

Going to have a good time for the rest

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2d90a4d7c9b673587a67fba1557b33ab

Monday, August 23, 2010

Everything - Lyrics - 4:21...the Day After - Method Man

Title: Everything
Album: 4:21...the Day After
Artist: Method Man
Composer(s): P. Charles, Clifford Smith, R Bean, J. Hunter

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Lyric:
Yeah, yeah, I love Math
Yeah, yo, yo

Y'all ain't never stopping the kid, why y'all knocking the King?
Would ya like a shot of liquor or like a shot to the rib?
Plus you stay on top of they grills, stay on top of they biz
Thinking n****z plotting on hairs, think they not when they is

This is Staten Island gully, you dig? It's getting ugly
And I ain't found a court that can judge me, the block love me
Like nines to the side of the skully, popping they top
I'd rather pop bubbly, one for B.I.G. and one for Pac

N****, trust me, I'm hot as they get, like Al Green
Getting hit by a pot of them grits, yo, nahmeen?
Y'all don't really want no parts of this, soon as a n****
Start shining, n****z start some s***, my guard lit

Like a boss, head n**** in charge, get in these drawers
Fitted, nine inches bigger than yours
This Meth dude got that food and he serving it raw
Told you before, I bring the pain and now I'm hurting them, pa
Hurting them, pa

Up from the 36, back on that bulls***
Okay, I'm reloaded, strapped with a full clip
Staten Island's the Borough, Park Hill, we still click
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang, that's the Clan, we run s***

Up from the 36, back on that bulls***
Okay, I'm reloaded, strapped with a full clip
Staten Island's the borough, Park Hill, we still click
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang, that's the Clan, we run s***

Aiyo, you f***ing with some capital G's, Allah Math
Street life, Meth Man, plus the Masta and me
Soldier I, make it happen, indeed, my sick gift
Had the highest paid h**, get it cracking for free

Worldwide still trapped in the P's, Pioneers
Like the twenty inch woofers that's in back of the V
Leave ya brain, like you spazzing on E
It don't matter who you happen to be, nothing swagger like he

Keep a dirty cop close, never talk with no feds
Tear the roof off the mother, right along with ya head
And I ain't talk unless she talking bout bread
You would swear that I'm rocking New Balance, how I'm walking the ledge

Son, I'm just a little off of the edge as I stalk
The mean streets for paused types callers are read
Killa Hill where the warriors bred, I'm a Resident
Patient, it's gonna take more than the meds

Up from the 36, back on that bulls***
Okay, I'm reloaded, strapped with a full clip
Staten Island's the borough, Park Hill, we still click
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang, that's the Clan, we run s***

Up from the 36, back on that bulls***
Okay, I'm reloaded, strapped with a full clip
Staten Island's the borough, Park Hill, we still click
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang, that's the Clan, we run s***

Special invited guest, I came to put the rumors to rest
Rip the rest of the slugs through your chest
Put the chest to the back of your vest
Trap your packet, take the money and jet

N****z posted, but you posing no threat
Punk, you p**** like the opposite sex
Front, see how many shots you will get
I'm not asking, I'm demanding respect

I'm just a man to respect
Watch your step, son, your funeral's next
Street life is the man in the flesh, I got one hand on your neck
The other hand is attached to the tech

Your next move could mean life or death
Make move, take baby steps
Hold that thought, n****, save your breath
We hold courts in the streets we rep
For Cash Rule and we came to collect, c*** s*****

Up from the 36, back on that bulls***
Okay, I'm reloaded, strapped with a full clip
Staten Island's the borough, Park Hill, we still click
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang, that's the Clan, we run s***

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Saturday, August 7, 2010

Wife 4 Life - Lyrics - The Rose That Grew From Concrete - 2pac

Title: Wife 4 Life
Album: The Rose That Grew From Concrete
Artist: 2pac
Composer(s): Ahmad Lewis, Tupac Shakur, Jubalani Smith-Freeman, Kip Wilson

Lyric:
(4th Avenue Liberty Jones, K-Ci)
Tat chat, chat, ooh, 4th Avenue Jones
K-Ci himself
(Himself, himself)
Shabba dabba dee swee swee
Ha, ha, oh, yeah, lemme tell you now, oh, yeah

I never planned that I'd be married to settle, no chance
(Yeah)
Wedding bands rock the heaviest metal
And I'm the center hip hop
My M3 seat three, don't need commission
(That's right)

So either we rhyme or design the beat to flip with
Don't stick with music 'cause I hand lose it
It serenades me while I land cruise it
If I'm stressed or soothing

Something I can make the fans move with
Said I be singing 'til I saw you was like man, who this?
While JD Mingle be gettin' at you with a brand new twist
Switchin' my linger, wishin' I could be the one you cling to
I ask you for you number maybe I can ring you

Six months later when I'm sick my baby bringin' me food
Hang with the fellas, I said, "Mainly, I'll be hangin with you"
Ready to have that satisfaction of you saying I do
(Yeah)
Since you finally did it, now we together mind, body, spirit
That's something can't no body interfere with, for life
(For life)

4 life, my wife 4 life
You say yes
Yes, you will be my wife
My wife, my wife

4 life, my wife 4 life
You say yes
Yes, you will be my wife
My wife, my wife

I bet you be strapped at point little pubs
Said she never give her number out to dudes in the clubs
That's the boogies and exceptions
'Cause she's showing me love
Body bangin' like the county but I avoid the rub

Prolly to use to dudes jockin', all I asked was a hug
So she slid me the digits, mashed out in a bug
A couple months pass, and we the item 'round town but
I'm feelin' like the worm, like she just want me for the rebound

She fresh outta, relationships that only got her
Heartache and pain, frustrated because of drama
I'm look at your face picturing kids and I can see em
Til death do us part we got the match and mazzaliam

On poppa's DM, I'll put you in the chrome BM
You different from the rest you love God and MCing
Whether it be tattoo, rings or bling
(Bling)
50 karat, you my wife 4 life, we got our backs and it's apparent

4 life, my wife 4 life
You say yes
Yes, you will be my wife
My wife, my wife

4 life, my wife 4 life
You say yes
Yes, you will be my wife
My wife, my wife

So you heard when I asked that night you'd be my wife
Not for this year or next but mine for all life
(That's right, that's right)
To accept me when I'm seein' and to understand
Not to make this dim in the rain which comes as hard as any

I'm not the best of men
My fault has come scarce tonight
But my heart has always been to give to my wife
Yes, you are, baby
(Ah, ah, Tina Jones)

Tina Jones, been picky bout men
Don't want some common fella
Contaminatin' me like salmonella
Workin' undercover like my rhyme umbrella

Keepin' it shady, I'm not going for it though, not even maybe
Showin' proof to you the difference from a rag and from a lady
I can do for myself, makin' my bacon living gravy
And thankin' the Lord 'cause more importantly he saved me

I shot for the moon, lookin' for comets like I'm Haley
I found me a star companionship is what it gave me
I'm beautiful too and not because my hair is wavy
"That's my baby", I said

4 life, my wife 4 life
You say yes
Yes, you will be my wife
My wife, my wife

4 life, my wife 4 life
You say yes
Yes, you will be my wife
My wife, my wife

4 life, my wife 4 life
You say yes
Yes, you will be my wife
My wife, my wife

4 life, my wife 4 life
You say yes
Yes, you will be my wife
My wife, my wife

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Monday, August 9, 2010

Everybody'S Free (To Wear Sunscreen) - Lyrics - Baz Luhrmann

Title: Everybody'S Free (To Wear Sunscreen)
Artist: Baz Luhrmann
Composer(s): Tim Cox, Nigel Swanston

Lyric:
Ladies and gentlemen of the class of 2007, wear sunscreen
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it
The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists
Whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable
Than my own meandering experience, I will dispense this advice now

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth, oh, never mind
You will never understand the power
And the beauty of your youth until they've faded
But trust me, in twenty years
You will look back at photos of yourself

And recall in a way you can't grasp now
How much possibility lay before you
And how fabulous you really looked
You are not as fat as you imagine

Don't worry about the future or worry that know that worrying
Is as affective as trying to solve an algebra equation
By chewing bubble gum
The real troubles in your life are apt to be things
That never crossed your worried mind
The kind that blindsides you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday

Do one thing every day that scares you, sing
Don't be reckless with other peoples' hearts
Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours, floss
Don't waste your time on jealousy
Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind
The race is long and in the end, it's only with yourself

Remember compliments you receive, forget the insults
If you succeed in doing this, tell me how
Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements, stretch
Don't feel guilty if you don't know what to do with your life

The most interesting people
I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives
Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't
Get plenty of calcium
Be kind to knees, you'll miss them when they're gone

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't
Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't
Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the "Funky Chicken"
On your 75th wedding anniversary
Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much
Or berate yourself either
Your choices are half chance, so are everybody else's

Enjoy your body, use it every way you can
Don't be afraid of it or what other people think of it
It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own, dance
Even if you have nowhere to do it but your own living room
Read the directions even if you don't follow them
Do not read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly

Brother and sister together will make it through
Someday a spirit will take you and guide you there
I know you've been hurting, but I've been waiting to be there for you
And I'll be there just helping you out, whenever I can

Get to know your parents, you never know when they'll be gone for good
Be nice to your siblings, they are your best link to your past
And the people most likely to stick with you in the future
Understand that friends come and go
But a precious few, who should hold on

Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle
For as the older you get, the more you need the people
You knew when you were young
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard
Live in northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft

Travel, accept certain inalienable truths
Prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old
And when you do, you'll fanaticise that when you were young
Prices were reasonable, politicians were noble
And children respected their elders

Respect your elders, don't expect anyone else to support you
Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse
But you'll never know when either one will run out
Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're forty
It will look eighty-five
Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it

Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of
Wishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off
Painting over the ugly parts and recycling for more than it's worth
But trust me on the sunscreen

Brother and sister together will make it through, oh yeah
Someday a spirit will take you and guide you there
I know you've been hurting, but I've been waiting to be there for you
And I'll be there just helping you out, whenever I can

Everybody's free, oh yeah, everybody's free, oh yeah, oh, to feel good

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Monday, August 23, 2010

Earthquake - Lyrics - Tha Carter (Screwed And Chopped) - Lil' Wayne

Title: Earthquake
Album: Tha Carter (Screwed And Chopped)
Artist: Lil' Wayne
Composer(s): Phalon Anton Alexander, Al Jr Jackson, Dwayne Michael Carter, Byron O Thomas, Al Green, Willie Lawrence Mitchell

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Lyric:
Speak to them Jazze
Yea fly guy

I, I'm way more fly than you
(That's right)
I'll take your dime from you
(That's right)
Now she wanna spend all night with me
(She wanna wake up with Weezy F, baby)
Let me be the one that you roll into
(Throw it back ma, throw it back, throw it back, throw it back ma)
Baby, I'd like to spend the rest of my night with you
(So how 'bout you? So how 'bout you?)

I'll take your bitch give her back, take your bitch again
That's because you throw a 5, I pitch a 10
Now she wanna get inside of my '66
She see that my wrist is blue and yellow like Michigan
She say she love her man, she misses him
But nobody do it better than her distant dick, me
I'm her long distance pimp
When I land my bitches wait for me on the strip, yup

And I don't lie, I confess
I'm the one who turn that orange vest to a dress dough
Gotta dress to impress though, gotta stay clean
Plus momma in a Lex 4
She with me, what you expect? I live to be fly to death
It's the Bird Man junior, sincerely yours
When it rains it pours, when it rain it whores
Jazze, c'mon

I, I'm way more fly than you
(That's right)
I'll take your dime from you
(That's right)
Now she wanna spend all night with me
(She wanna wake up with Weezy F, baby)
Let me be the one that you roll with too
(Throw it back ma, throw it back, throw it back, throw it back ma)
Baby, I'd like to spend the rest of my night with you, baby
(So how 'bout you? So how 'bout you?)

Now why you wanna go do that?
I can see through that
Tattoo right there, like I can't view that
Girl, what that? Say wait, who that?
Bet he was lame, bet he not Lil' Wayne, no
'Coz I'm way more flyer
Have you hangin' 'round a bunch of yayo buyers, nope
And not a day go by us
We don't get higher than the telephone wires

Cut your telephone off, we ridin' where phones don't roam
They don't even come on
You're far from home so leave it alone
You creepin' with the king of the throne
You sleepin' in a tee and a thong, with your hair in a pony
I ain't got no blinds, we can stare at the morning, yup
But I can't be there all mornin'
I'm a pimp baby, I'm going, going, gone

I, I'm way more fly than you
(That's right)
I'll take your dime from you
(That's right)
Now she wanna spend all night with me
(She wanna wake up with Weezy F, baby)
Let me be the one that you roll with too
(Throw it back ma, throw it back, throw it back, throw it back ma)
Baby, I'd like to spend the rest of my night with you
(So how 'bout you? So how 'bout you?)

I'm sorry I was groovin'
Gotta love that laid back mannie fresh music
But let's get back to what we was doing
Laid back in that black on plat Ewing's
That's 33 weak tires, he fire
These streets ain't papaya ma
You gotta keep heat on your side 2 must
So I'm a get 3 more and cop you one, wait

Naw hun 'coz you ain't exempt
If your ass ever trip, I'll give you a clip, yea
But I love the way your jeans suck in your hip
And you walk kinda mean how you strut with a dip
And you talk kinda clean and you lick your lips
But I can't fall for you 'coz I stick to the script, yup
I said "I stick to my grip, I stick to my money, that's life to me
Sorry honey, Jazze"

I, I'm way more fly than you
(That's right)
I'll take your dime from you
(That's right)
Now she wanna spend all night with me
(She wanna wake up with Weezy F, baby, damn)
Let me be the one that you roll with too
(Throw it back ma, throw it back, throw it back, throw it back ma)
Baby, I'd like to spend the rest of my night with you
(So how 'bout you? So how 'bout you?)

So how 'bout you?
So how 'bout you?

See what I'm talking bout sweet heart
You ain't even gotta have John Madden
You ain't gotta have Dick Vitale, you ain't gotta Lee Carsole
You ain't gotta have Stuart Scott, you ain't gotta have Linda Cohn
Know what I'm talkin' 'bout?
You ain't gotta have the staff of ESPN
You ain't gotta have the ABC staff just to speak sports baby
'Coz I got game sweetheart

Just fuck with your boy and I'll get you a jersey
What you want me to put on the bag?
Daddy's little girl, that's right
Know what I'm talking 'bout?
See I can't give you the game but I can show you the game
And you can see what you see and peek how you peek
And see what you get
Know what I'm talking 'bout?

Weezy

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c99dd5a93279be08cdc092a76dd521a0

Monday, August 16, 2010

The Realest - Lyrics - Murda Muzik - Mobb Deep

Title: The Realest
Album: Murda Muzik
Artist: Mobb Deep
Composer(s): Kejuan W Muchita, Barbara Gaskins, Albert J Johnson, Nathaniel Wilson, A Maman

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Lyric:
The killa's shit dun, no doubt
The undisputed

For street niggas livin' with they lives on the line
For young guns comin' up durin' these times
For police who'll find drugs, let niggas slide
For niggas out slingin' like 4 in the night

For your man's not snitchin' when the pressure is tight
For pistols that don't jam when it's time to strike
For bootleg liquor on a Sunday night
It's been a realest shit you heard in your life

Yo when the gats reveal, you cats get peeled and that's the deal
Fuck a bitch-ass that switch fast niggas that lack the real
When the slugs burst G.Rap be aimin' at your mug first
Niggas is blood thirst we'll see who get plugged worst

We dug earth the place you put the nickel-plate is to your facial
Bullets ain't racial kid the only hate you
My nine will seem like it's a time machine B.C. date you
Jackin' you more than Ripper my fifth's an organ shifter

The human organism lifter you'll be hearin' organs
If ya leavin' orphans, if ya
Let these fours hit ya where the law split ya
A fork pitcher to bump heads with those that dump lead

Accurate shot in back of your knot
Leave you one dead G.Rap, Havoc and Prodigy
Let's put these bitch niggas where bodies be dun
Yo if it gotta be, it gotta be

For street niggas livin' with they lives on the line
For young guns comin' up durin' these times
For police who'll find drugs, let niggas slide
For niggas out slingin' like 4 in the night

For your man's not snitchin' when the pressure is tight
For pistols that don't jam when it's time to strike
For bootleg liquor on a Sunday night
It's been a realest shit you heard in your life

When the gat spit some niggaz get blown off the atlas
It happens unsolved mystery re-enatmus
Get practiced what you lack is you think like the average
Jake Stone found a leavin', crime scenes entangled

Nothin' but cannons get conspicuous
Like a man a little branded with the serial scratched
Wild out a part of the pack 'cause they made me like that
If I could push back the clock probably leave it like that

Draw blood for my nigga G O D ,TY Nitty and Twin
And Twin is not here plus my kin
Killa B forever with me quick to settle with me
Into QB to show love throughout the years with me

You got guns we got guns the serious ones
Leaving foul powder stuck in your lungs
We come from where niggas look out for they dun-duns
Love never disrespect hit niggas we re-direct

For street niggas livin' with they lives on the line
For young guns comin' up durin' these times
For police who'll find drugs, let niggas slide
For niggas out slingin' like 4 in the night

For your man's not snitchin' when the pressure is tight
For pistols that don't jam when it's time to strike
For bootleg liquor on a Sunday night
It's been a realest shit you heard in your life

Never prejudge, it be the humble that squeeze slugs
It be the ones standin' still that'll peel guns
Spill blood for my duns thuggin' for me
Man you don't wanna get involved fuckin' with Pee

I spent more nights illin', less nights chillin'
The more shots they hold the better they feel it
What be the dealizz, some killas like to hide behind specs
Others got blatant disrespectin' the rest

Or so young that you wouldn't even expect
To be burstin' off guns like a Vietnam vet
On the steps sittin' in the staircase bent
Thinkin' on ways to take another man's head

Go to war with niggas that's against what I rep
I settle things with a heavy metal fifth
Change clips, switch clothes after I spit
Place niggas back in they space fuck's on ya mind kid

For street niggas livin' with they lives on the line
For young guns comin' up durin' these times
For police who'll find drugs let niggas slide
For niggas out slingin' like 4 in the night

For your man's not snitchin' when the pressure is tight
For pistols that don't jam when it's time to strike
For bootleg liquor on a Sunday night
It's been a realest shit you heard in your life

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Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Don'T Fight The Feelin' - Lyrics - Life Is... Too Short - Too $Hort

Title: Don'T Fight The Feelin'
Album: Life Is... Too Short
Artist: Too $Hort
Composer(s): J Brown, A Forte, J Goins, Kevin Mccord, Todd Anthony Shaw

Lyric:
Say hoe, yeah you
Can I ask you a question
You like to fuck?
Oh, you don't want me to talk to you like that
Will you like to make love?

I saw you walking down the street and I had to stop
Turn up the radio and drop the top
I see you look so good, and your so fine
Young tender, would you be mine

I get you in my car, drive you to my house
'Cuz I'm a mack, I cold turn you out
I wont ask and I sure won't beg
Reach right over and rub your leg

I let my hand slide between your miniskirt
Slip a finger in your panties, straight go to work
What time is it, don't watch the clock
Lay back, baby doll and I'll rock the cock

Funky Fresh I am, and I always can, Freak Nasty
I'm the man, I take you out to the finest restaurant
Buy you any damn thing that you want

You want flowers, I'll buy your ass a rose
But later on you're coming off with them pantyhose
You want gold, girl what's next
It's me and you, doing the sex

So now you know I'm just a freak
Give it up baby, I can't wait two weeks
I want it all, don't say I won't
Get it girl, now I'm telling you don't

Nigga please, you provoke no feeling
You must've forgot the girls of whom you're dealing
We haven't the urge to get busy
Like those dizy lizys who used to dance for you, your through

I can't put it more blunt, your vocab is restricted
You're addicted to the words you inflicted
Time after time, line after line
Talking 'bout the bitches that are on your mind

Do they call you Short because of your height or your weight?
Diss me boy, I'll hang your balls from a cliff
Wrapped around a slinky, your a dinky
It's an easy task, to the corner 'cause the curb didn't want your ass

Your name is 'Yuck Mouth', you don't brush
Gotta cover your mouth like this
They call you 'Yuck Mouth'
You refuse to brush, no sweetheart you can keep that kiss

You're a freak with no tale
You have no ass, class, you can't pass, your simply trash
You're a typical nigga, the kind you don't take home
[Incomprehensible] tights and Barbie from the dangerous zone

Like a short dogg that carries fleas
You make my ass itch, twitch, don't you wish you could scratch it
And grab it like you want it
The name fits 'cause your all up on it

Get mad if you want, I won't front
When it's time to hump, won't be no punk
Roll your ass over and tap the butt
Too $hort, baby all in them guts

I'm not your ABC, from the alphabet
Every letter I'll write'll get your pussy wet
It's just a freaky note, from me to you
At the bottom I signed it Playboy II

I'm a player, bitch, I thought you knew
Like every other nigga in my crew
I bump hoes, now it's your turn
Tell me young tender when will you learn

I cold mack like pimps you know
Won't sell you dope or sell you blow
Just your average everyday straight bump up bitch
My gold rings come from spitz

Look, baby, you know what I want
You're acting like it's that time of the month
Are you bleeding, can't think about sex
Irritated by your Kotex

We don't need to kiss, we don't have to fuck
I'll pull out my dick, bitch, you can suck
Now here, don't say I won't
Get it, girl, now I'm telling you don't

Punk, I'm not a tease, I'm not a skeezer
And most definitely not a dick pleaser
You dreaming and scheming and fiending for my lust
You don't have enough, for you I feel disgust

Wait, small thing I hate
For goodness sakes, if I wanted someone small I would masturbate
I'm not talking 'bout your height, weight or what you dream
When I say too short, you know what I mean

You see, I need man, not a boy to approach me
Your lame game, really insults me
Your name is Too Short or shall I say 'Too Skinny'
If size were money honey, you wouldn't have a penny

Little boy, you're not a player, I'm your savior
To try to get at me shows your bodacious behavior
I have to sit on my feet to come down to your level
Your mother should have hung you, from her umbilical cord

If she would have known your mission
Okay little boy, here's a proposition
You wanna bit of danger, step you to my zone
You call yourself a dogg, thatz how I'll send you home

With your tail between your legs, screeching and whining
Jealous of you got some, nigga please you're lying
Cause I fight the feeling, that would have to be one
And mathematically, me plus you equals none

I am the rapper that they call 4 tay
I'm gon' tell you like my homie Short Dogg would say
Hoes in the world, trying to play it sweet
Knowing damn well that they wanna freak

Some do this for maybe a week
And then it's cool to get up under the sheets
Trying to work that thang but she said no
That's about as far as it's going to go

So I toss and turn to make it loose
Finally she feels the act right juice
Some of you hoes say, "Oh, that's nasty"
Back of your coat say sweet and sassy

24 deep, that's how you sleep
Undercover freak every day of the week
You see some of you freaks just need to quit it
Playing that role like you ain't with it

The rest of you freaks just won't admit it
Especially when you know just who can get it
Ain't nobody tripping 'cuz I know I'm right
You could be black or you could be white

For a black girl it really don't take too long
But a white girl's always tryin' to turn ya on
With a little squeze, but it's just a tease
Give her some time, she'll be on her knees

Then I'll pick her up, so I can work the butt
Baby, I just wanna try to bust a nut
But don't get me wrong 'cause you started it all
Coming to my house in a camisole

But when it's time for me to shove
Then you front on all that love
First you said that I deserve it
Now you fight, don't want to serve it

Gave it some time, so make up your mind
Don't fight the feeling, it's time to unwind
You was talking 'bout you gunna give my some
But I'm Rappin' 4 Tay, it don't make me numb

Yeah man, the little hoes got ill
So now it's time to get way to real
I know they never have some real dick
They need to quit talking that childish shit

You wanna rank hoe, go get your bank hoe
My little dick'll have you screaming though
Because when it comes to sex, you don't know what's up
You're still playing that finger fuck

See I'm a grown man, I bust some young cock out
I like big butts, not big mouths
I know some little girls'll break you down in bed
Pull your drawers down, give you some head

But little girl, you wanna have some fun
You better go to magic mountain 'cuz your way too young
So at this point, I can't really say shit
Ain't dropping no lines, I'll just call you a bitch, beyotch

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Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Intro/Bomb First (My Second Reply) - Lyrics - Makaveli - The Don Killuminati: The 7 Day Theory - 2pac

Title: Intro/Bomb First (My Second Reply)
Album: Makaveli - The Don Killuminati: The 7 Day Theory
Artist: 2pac
Composer(s): Mutah W. Beale, Rufus Lee Cooper, Darryl V. Harper, Tupac Amaru Shakur

Lyric:
In today's music news, the ever controversial Tupac Shakur has
Just released another album under the alias Makaveli
Music insiders are running wild trying to rearrange other artist
Street dates, in fear of a wipe out in retail inter chart movement

Although no one knows the exact cause of the new album
Resources tell me a number of less fortunate rappers
Have joined together in conspiracy to assassinate the character
Of not only Mr. Shakur but of Death Row records as well

Nas, the alleged ring leader of it, is furious at Tupac
Excuse me Makaveli's verbal assault
On Mobb Sleep, Notorious B.I.G. and several other New York rappers
Jay-Z of Hawaiian Soapy fame, Big Little whatever

And several other corny sounding motherfuckers
are understandably shaken up by this release
The question everybody wants to know is
Why'd they get this nigga started?
Tupac, rather Makaveli was not available for comment
But released this statement

It's not about East or West
It's about niggaz and bitches
Power and money, riders and punks
Which side are you on?

Gun cocked, six shots, bullets hit ground

These niggaz is still fuckin' talkin'?
You nigga still breathin'?
Fuckin' roaches, aight
Aight, it's the Raid on you

All day
You punk muthafuckas
The shit nigga
Killuminati Style
Makaveli the Don
Solo shit

Bring It

Allow me to introduce first
Makaveli the Don
Spirits, Spurting, Spiritual, Lyrics
Like the Holy Koran

Niggas get Shook Like 5-0
My 4-5 gun is next to me when we ride
Plus Survival
Money Making plans

Pistol closing hands
Swollen Pockets
Let me introduce the topic
Then we drop it

Expose Snakes 'cuz they breath freely
See me ride
Located world wide
Like the art of graffiti

I think I'm tougher than any
My attitude is shitty
Born in the dope fiends titty
And every city you'll find me

Looking for trouble
Right behind me
My outlaw niggas
Down to die for me

Naw what I mean

I hit the scene
Niggas ducking for my Guillotine Stare
I'm right there
My every word

A fucking night mare
Getting high
Let me see the sun rise and fall
This is for my dogs

Down to die for yours
Extreme Venom
No mercy
When we all up in 'em

Cut 'em Down
To hell is where we send them
My whole team
Trying to explode

Rather die
Murder muthafuckas lyrically
And I'm not gonna cry
Me

A born leader
Never leave the block
without my heater
Two big pitts
I call them Mobb bitch

Nigga eaters
And I won't whimper till I'm gone
Thug Life
Running through my veins
So I'm strong

Ha ha ha

Bye, bye, bye
Lets get high and ride
Oh, how do we do these niggas
But I'm not gonna cry
I'm a Bad Boy killa

Jay-Z die too
Looking out for Mobb Deep
Nigga when I find you
Weak muthafuckas don't deserve to breathe
How many niggas down to die for me

Yeah, yeah

West Coast Ridaz
Comin' right behind ya
Should've never fucked wit me
I want money hoes sex and weed
I wont rest till my Row Doggs free
Bomb First

We Bomb first when we ride
Please, reconsider 'fo you die
We didn't even come to hurt nobody tonight, tonight
(Hurt nobody)
But it's my life or your life
And I'm a bomb first

We Bomb first when we ride
Please, reconsider 'fo you die
We didn't even come to hurt nobody tonight, tonight
(Hurt nobody)
But it's my life or your life
And I'm a bomb first

For so many days and some many ways
We've been duckin' strays
Hate to live us
But we still some Bad Boy Killas

Got nothin' to lose, got no where to go
I only got one home see me stranded on Death Row
With Outlawz, it's Makaveli, be the general
and I be a soldier on a mission, suptitude

But you'll never do
That's ride for the cause
Yes I'll die for the cause
Ya best believe if I leave this bitch, I'm dyin' with choice

Kamikaze sicker than a mothafuckin' Nazi
Got a little question for that nigga that made Poparazi
Tell me if you ain't in this rap game
For the mothafuckin'' cash man

Then what is ya mothafuckin'' purpose
None for service
Idi Amin born worthless
That's until the day I decided to bomb first bitch

Young Noble

Yer style wack as ever
Like you was rocket patent leather
Cause a massive terror
Ya'll niggas lack, you ain't terrel

Half rapper half drug kingpen
Yer tellin' fairy tales son
Kickin' New York like you the mothafuckin'' one
But I'm from Jers we don't play that shit

From the Claire down to North Bricks
All my niggas flippin' chips
Gettin' rich
Even though it's hard

Tryin' to creep through these halls abroad without scar by [unverified]
With no warning signs cause yo my man took five
Now I'm the young one with the nine
ready to put in my time

Shoot first, look at there head burst bleedin'
Don't want to hear no shit this evening, believe me

We Bomb first when we ride
Please, reconsider 'fo you die
We didn't even come to hurt nobody tonight, tonight
(Hurt nobody)
But it's my life or your life
And I'm a bomb first

We Bomb first when we ride
Please, reconsider 'fo you die
We didn't even come to hurt nobody tonight, tonight
(Hurt nobody)
But it's my life or your life
And I'm a bomb first

We Bomb first when we ride
Please, reconsider 'fo you die
G's and Thug niggas on tha rise
Plan-plot-strategize
And bomb first

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Saturday, August 14, 2010

Thought You Knew - Lyrics - Coolio

Title: Thought You Knew
Artist: Coolio
Composer(s): Artis Ivey, Brian Dobbs

Lyric:
Never gave a fuck and I still don't
So save your lectures, I'm a gangbang for the rest of my life
A young BG deranged in the brain
The youngest motherfucker on the chain gang

Yeah, I still slang my thangs like a G
Really can I ever make your ass rest in peace?
No need to waste my energy squabbin'
Quick to pull the trigger, put your ass in a coffin

Never been a baller but I trap many ballin'
Homies y'know I don't give a fuck, I was starvin'
You better hide your daughter cos I'm out to get laid with dick
And have her sprung on this black ass nigga

Straight up out the gutter
Have her stealin' from her daddy and her mother
Sellin' rocks to the scandalous ass clockers
Ready to meet my snaps, yeah I'm cool like that
And I never gave a fuck about a stupid ass hoodrat

Bitches ridin' on my bit
Niggas hit me up and shit
But I'm from the Eastside
Where the niggas do or die
Representin' like a dream
The circle's deep I thought you knew

As I crack dice from one hood to the next
Doin' credit card schemes and cashin' hot cheques
I got a 9 for any nigga that come runnin' up
Keepin' motherfuckers on the duck

You can give a this or that sling, the yea or the tracks
But when your chick starts choking ya, you gots ta break me off
I sweat ya like Keith until ya give me my ends
If a nickel bag is sold in the park I want in

In the middle of the night when the spot's not hot
You can find Billy Boy rollin' down your block
Hittin' switches 'cause your bitch is gettin paid, 'cause that's my way
And all the hoes still wanna fuck
(You know we do)

I bleed like the next man but when the gat is in my hand
You can bet my monkey ass is comin' out on top
L.A. hustlers can't live without money
So before I make sense I gots ta make a knot

'Cause I can't fuck without my hoes
And I can't hit no switch without the 6-4
Everybody wanna fuck a nigga like me
But I won't be gettin back in the CPT

Niggas tryin' to give me stuff
Billy Boy don't give a fuck
First I warn you with my rhyme
Then I'll fuck you with my 9

Don't give your please cos I don't bang
But I'm down to fully slang
40 Thevz end down your crew
The circle's deep I thought you knew

I fold a rapper like a dollar just to hear his punk ass holler
Walk into his hood and grab his homies by the collar
Stock 'em all up like a pack of punk bitches
Now I got his whole crew wearin' heels and doin' dishes

You don't wanna see me out the motherfuckin' front
Don't you take this shit for granted just cos niggas call me Cool
R E S P E C T C O O L I O G
M to the A, A to the D
A circle full of niggas that you don't wanna see

You ain't nuttin' but a pistol that's fuckin' with a missile
I chew your ass like gristle 'til the ref blows the whistle
Sing a song of six packs, a pocket full of snaps
Ain't no punks in my motherfuckin' pack
See I use to be broke now I blow indo smoke
First you diss my city then you choke

C O M P T O N
Punk motherfuckers get two to the chin
I don't give a fuck what'cha got or who you know
Step to the madness, your ass gotta go

Ain't a damn thing changed but only the year
East Coast, West Coast get this clear
You don't wanna see my crew
The circle's deep I thought you knew

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Monday, August 16, 2010

Work That Body - Lyrics - Life & Love: The Very Best Of Diana Ross - Diana Ross

Title: Work That Body
Album: Life & Love: The Very Best Of Diana Ross
Artist: Diana Ross
Composer(s): Diana Ross, Raymond L Chew, Paul F Jabara

Lyric:
Alright, get ready
We're gonna work that body

Reach, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
Stretch, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
Push, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
(Up, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8)

Every morning when we wake
To make up for that piece of cake we ate last night
What do you do?
We do what's right, alright

Throw our hands up in the air
One foot here and one foot there
We're so tight
That's alright, alright

Take a look, girls, at these numbers
We're still improving, got these bodies moving
Everybody's gonna hate you
There will be no doubt, eat your heart out

Don't think we're out of line
When all the men around
Begin to stop and stare at the hottest girls
We're the hottest girls in town

Reach, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
Stretch, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
Push, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
(Up, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8)

Reach, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
Stretch, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
Push, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
(Up, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8)

Ah, you're looking good
You're looking good

Down, shake down
Right, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
Move to the right foot, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
Shake down, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
Shake down
Move to the left feet, 1, 2, 3, 4

Work that body, 5, 6
Right, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
Left, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
Shake down
Right, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
Left, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Step, step, turn around
Step, step, turn around
Hang free
Right, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
Left, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
Right, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

You can make your body
Step, step, turn around
Shake down, step, step, turn around
Left foot, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 and rest

Work that body, work that body
You can do it
You can make your body 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
Shake down, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
Left, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
Right, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Step, step, turn around
Step, step, turn around
Step, step, turn around
Step, step, turn around
You can make your body
Shake down

Don't think we're out of line
When all the men around
Begin to stop and stare at the hottest girls
We're the hottest girls in town

Reach, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
Stretch, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
Push, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
(Up, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8)

Work that body
Work that body

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Friday, August 20, 2010

A8 - Lyrics - Behind The Front - Black Eyed Peas

Title: A8
Album: Behind The Front
Artist: Black Eyed Peas
Composer(s): Jaime Gomez, William Adams, Kevin Feyen, Mike Fratantuno, Allan Pineda

Lyric:
Yo son, whatcha think about those Peas, though?
Yo, yo, I don't know, them dudes just be on stage, dancin' and stuff
They on some old Las Vegas bullshit, they move too much, man
I can't take them fools seriously

I mean, they ain't talk about no 6-4, no Impalas
They ain't shootin' nobody
(Shootin' nobody)
They ain't talkin' about clothes
You know, what I'm saying?

Yo, my man, I got a plan to do it all
(What kind of plan you got?)
I got a plan that none of y'all ever talked about
'Cause underground niggas don't be thinking
I'm going kinda [unverified] nino [unverified] like Lincoln

How can you make moves when you're always strapped under?
I plan to read the scriptures, tell you more about the thunder
I wonder what really makes the world go round
Not thugs, 'cause thugs go 'round the brain of a brother's down

You be in it for a quick blink but when you start to sink
You be deeper than you was when you should've stop to think
About your consequence, your actions don't make lots of sense
Brothers use the wicked life 'cause of lack of confidence

The devil jacked you for your sense now, you can't pay your rent
And that's no accident, you let us slip so we win
The rest of your development, you should've took time to prevent
The [unverified] of your monument

Now ya, wash up and a nobody
No one blame but your body
You livin' life, had thick and uneasy
You chose to be involved with no deals and crisis

In a hole 'cause of lust and greed
Your mind held captive and unable to exceed
Come out and follow the Peas, we give you what you need
We proceed to give you, what
(What, what)

A, a, a, a, a, a, a, a
We givin' you what you want
(We give you what you want)
(We give you what you want)
(We give you what you want)

And you proceed
On fienin' on what you need
(We give you what you need)
(We give you what you need)
(We give you what you need)

Yo, everybody's goal is to win
But others getting caught up within the line of committing sins
And everybody seems to wanna rule
It's so ridicule we gotta find the right cure

We approach to penetrate equivalent and strong
To wash out individual with evil forms
Conquering battles in these fields of greed
Dark faces all around me makes it hard for me to see

Who's got my back and who will back stab
I'm ready for foes and hoes who tries to grab
My currency, if I ain't got none
The [unverified] crip to runs to the ones who got some

The war billows to those who makes action
The main caption is to bring satisfaction
If you like that contend you see
How you suppose to call yourself a real MC

So what's the definition of a true MC
(Someone who rocks swell and put my soul at ease)
Lyrics went entertaining capability
(Now that's the realest, see, all around 360 degrees)

I'm givin' you what you want, want
I'm givin' you what you want
Na na na, na na na na, na na na, na na na
I'm givin' you what you want, want
Na na na, na na na na, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm

A, a, a, a, a, a, a, a
We givin' you what you want
(We give you what you want)
(We give you what you want)
(We give you what you want)

And you proceed
On fienin' on what you need
(We give you what you need)
(We give you what you need)
(We give you what you need)

Hey, witness grief through startin' material
You are blinded by lights, had an ego ratio
God bless you with the gift of only show
Business but you a careless professional

Is where your failing will show
Over indos and end only cash flows
Makin' it big but yet, you never know
You will pay in your dues bringin' on sorrow

Here today, easily gone tomorrow
Feel the pain and I never borrow
From another man, instead I'm making grand
Watch the Peas as we make a stand

A, a, a, a, a, a, a, a
We givin' you what you want
(We give you what you want)
(We give you what you want)
(We give you what you want)

And you proceed
On fienin' on what you need
(We give you what you need)
(We give you what you need)
(We give you what you need)

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Monday, August 9, 2010

Ready 4 Whatever - Lyrics - R U Still Down? (Remember Me) - 2pac

Title: Ready 4 Whatever
Album: R U Still Down? (Remember Me)
Artist: 2pac
Composer(s): J Jackson, T Himes, Tupac Shakur, G S Heron

Lyric:
Rule number one, niggaz die, daily
Hear me, boo-yaow, ready 4 whatever, Hell yeah
What type nigga be a Thug Life nigga?
Them Thug Life niggaz be the craziest, run up nigga

There's no way to survive in the city it's a shame
Niggaz die from my hollow-point bullet to the brain
Will I survive or will I die is what I wonder
Puffin' on blunts and gettin' drunk to keep from goin' under

Gettin' lost in the madness, blunted gettin' tipsy
Got my pistol out the window screamin', "Lord come and get me"
Am I sick, or am I just another victim?
Unloadin' my clip, I'm watchin' every bullet spit when I kick 'em

Niggaz die from automatic gunfire
Your time to expire, nobody cry every man gotta die
When they bury me, they bury me a G
Rest in peace, to all the homies got to Heaven before me

Pour some liquor on the curb for the niggaz that's caught
Had a motherfuckin' ward but he didn't go to court
God damn, and one day we'll all be together
Until then I'm ready 4 whatever, c'mon

Yeah, niggaz movin' somethin' in the nine-trey
It's all about makin' money, gettin' yours
And knockin' coppers off the motherfuckin' planet
Word to the motherfuckin' nine nigga
We gonna make this motherfucker ours
If they don't feel me, they gon' kill me
So Syke, get skanless nigga

Am I going to Hell or will I reach Heaven?
After all this shit I did with my Mac-11
Did I sell my soul? Mama woulda saved me
That's the way that daddy raised me

Oh God, help me I'm losin' it
So fuck it, take me I'm doin' it
I need to change and look for a better way
I got a hundred round clip to my AK

Commitin' sins I might die in vain
So fuck it, we'll live off the street fame
God didn't send me in the right direction
I'm gettin' hit by a diesel in the intersection

I know you're out there help a young brother
'Til then I'ma smoke motherfuckers
Things wouldn't be so bad
If we got the things that we never had, I'm ready 4 whatever

That's my motherfuckin' nigga there
Big ballin' ass Syke
Yeah nigga, you schooled them young bustas
On how it is to be a real motherfuckin' G
In the nine-trey motherfuckers is dyin' daily so you best be packin'
If you ain't, boo-yaow motherfucker

Dear mama I know you worry 'cause I'm hardly at home
Every other night in jail, got you patient by the phone
Wanna shake it 'cause I can't take it got me livin' in Hell
Like I'm walkin' with a secret that'll kill me if I tell

I live the Thug Life and can't nobody, change me
Not to the brain, going insane, just a part of the game
So much caine in the fast lane, finally a dry eye
When I die, bury me with my fo'-five

And let the devil feel the wrath of a nigga
Goin' to Hell with my finger on the trigger
Now everybody's starin'
Got a nigga losin' hair and they wonder if I'm all there

Well, don't blame me, blame the flame that flickers
When niggaz gettin' richer, mo' money
Now tell me if you wanna live forever
Niggaz dyin' so be ready 4 whatever

Yeah, ready 4 whatever
Ready 4 whatever
Thug Life niggaz and we be ready 4 whatever
Let me go like this, ready 4 whatever
Huh, Big Syke he be ready 4 whatever
My nigga Kato, ready 4 whatever
Pain, he's ready 4 whatever

And my nigga Bam Bam, he ready 4 whatever
My nigga Banks just be ready 4 whatever
Modu, he's ready 4 whatever
Big Serg, we ready 4 whatever
Charlie Tango, ready 4 whatever
My nigga Pac, be ready 4 whatever
Yeah, ready 4 whatever
Ready 4 whatever

My big-ballin' ass nigga Boom, ready 4 whatever fo' sho'
Yeah, you know
This how the player's do it
I know you standin' there confused
You wonderin', what type of nigga is a Thug Life nigga?
Yeah hehehe nigga, we be the ballin' player-ass nigga
About gettin' riches, bitches and plenty loc'
Ready 4 whatever

Play the MP3 online for free!
b00204205c77bfaa1d5fe234f4d53e38

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

1st &Amp; 10 (Back For The First Time Album) - Lyrics - Back For The First Time - Ludacris

Title: 1st &Amp; 10 (Back For The First Time Album)
Album: Back For The First Time
Artist: Ludacris
Composer(s): Arbie Wilson, Michael Richard Bull, Christopher Bridges, Shondrae Crawford, Jean Paul Maunick, Bobbie Sandmanie

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

Lyric:
Click, click, click, click
Yeah, click, click
DTP nigga

I started with ten mack tens, ten clips and ten pens
Got ten times richer in the span of ten years
Bitch I'm ten times two on a scale of one to ten
I'll battle ten crews with the strength of ten men

At nine, I was into crime, sex, and drugs
Pushin' an '89 Box Chevy sittin' on dubs
Nine thugs all ski masks, black suited with gloves
Break the imprinted chest with at least nine slugs

Man I ate eight clips with eight chicks watching eight flicks
You's 8-6 if you ate pussy with fake lips
I figure eight when my mind goes in circles
Did I Do That or was it Mystikal and Urkel?

On to seven AK-47, so what?
I got seven hoes stoppin' by at seven to fuck
Then put seven in your chest seven days a week
And add a foot for good measure you'll be seven feet deep

It goes 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4
3, 2 murder, 1 lyrics at your door
These DTP niggas come ready for war
So don't start the fucking game if you won't settle the score

I got six hoes distributing on six blocks
It's blistering from cops tryna stop these rocks from distributing
Six gun shots left, one pint of Vodka before this pimp will hit
It's street justice, now it's six hole in your casket

Give me a high five and I'll put that nine lower than your esophagus
Then smack you so hard that you have to come with 2Pacalypse
Five stars, twenty rims, five cars
I'd add more but I had to subtract one from five bars

I got four forty-fours on a rip on the floor
For you niggas talkin' shit, I'm finish, so you what for
I did four months in the bing instead of a Hearst
Now it's DTP for life, dog for better or worse

I fuck three best friends, ran on all three the same game
In these streets I'm a murderer, I got three alias names
I'm three times insane, three shots will cave your brain
On three fire and ready, cock back and aim

It goes 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4
3, 2 murder, 1 lyrics at your door
These DTP niggas come ready for war
So don't start the fucking game if you won't settle the score

I'm packing two twenty-twos and twice the ammunition
But at Friday the 13th, what's up now superstition?
I'm a two timer with a couple of twins, double jeopardy
With a pair of two deuces in the two seater Benz

I got one motto get dough till your gone
I got one main lady the rest of y'all is hoes
I'm Numero Uno with one more before I go
If you think I ain't the one bitch you too slow

And all you zero ass niggas ain't nothin' to me
Because I chop up O's, move dro', and chop keys
0-6 is my clique along with PC
Pretty Rick, Calil, V-Slim and Shondrez

It goes 1 to 10 and 10 to 1
Ludacris, Fake Feeze and that nigga I-Twain
It goes 1 to 10 and 10 to 1
Ludacris, Fake Feeze and that nigga I-Twain

It goes 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4
3, 2 murder, 1 lyrics at your door
These DTP niggas come ready for war
So don't start the fucking game if you won't settle the score

Play the MP3 online for free!
d78716c9cd47d5399c1dc2ac776f08f1