40 - 'Til The Dawn - Lyrics - E

Title: 40 - 'Til The Dawn
Artist: E
Composer(s): R Cham, B Kante, Earl Stevens

Lyric:
Testing testing, Bosko where they at
Tonight swinger what we getting into

If you wanna dance we can do it tonight
If you wanna smoke, c'mon it's alright
If you wanna drink, c'mon we popping Don Perion
Doing the damn thang 'til the dawn

If you wanna dance we can do it tonight
If you wanna smoke, c'mon it's alright
If you wanna drink, c'mon we popping Don Perion
Doing the damn thang 'til the dawn

Love me tender, love me sweet, I'm a thug, pack my heat
All I do is spit these ki's, L-I-P's, overseas
Get your feddy, stack your bread
Make them duck heads give you head
If it's money, 'bout them dollas
Jack your stacks and pop your collars

Ooh, fa shiggedel
So slick, so sly, so slal
Ghost pick, those thighs, those gals
Came prepared, to my last show
Fire it up, wire it up off of the a sal
Hide in the birds trying to throw it at me now
Let me breathe on you for a minute as I snatch up
This fine ass little brusslesprout and I have to apprehend her

If you wanna dance we can do it tonight
If you wanna smoke, c'mon it's alright
If you wanna drink, c'mon we popping Don Perion
Doing the damn thang 'til the dawn

Now guess what, what, chicken butt
Bitch goody goody, wait a minute
It wouldn't be cracking if my cousin
4-Tre wasn't in it, goody goody
Now if you wanna dance, smoke, drink
We got the party cracking like all for you baby
Goody goody, god, make a pimp wanna jump back
Goody goody, don't stop, the beat rock

'Cause we hot, the heat rock, and don't stop
Believing, just get your money where you're breathing
This is for the thugs set butts in they laps, goody goody
And this is for E-40 and The Click in the land, goody goody

If you wanna dance we can do it tonight
If you wanna smoke, c'mon it's alright
If you wanna drink, c'mon we popping Don Perion
Doing the damn thang 'til the dawn

I prosaic, chemically imbalanced
Black folks, lactose and talerance
Red cup, strictly riding gut
Hard licking tricking, bitch playa banked up
Love the baby with the big butt
Walking up, to my F5-50 truck
What's your name, Sandra
Like that, where you from, Atlanta

Love me tender, love me sweet, I'm a thug, pack my heat
All I do is spit these ki's, L-I-P's, overseas
Get your feddy, stack your bread
Make them duck heads give you head
If it's money, 'bout them dollas
Jack your stacks and pop your collars

If you wanna dance we can do it tonight
If you wanna smoke, c'mon it's alright
If you wanna drink, c'mon we popping Don Perion
Doing the damn thang 'til the dawn

If you wanna dance we can do it tonight
If you wanna smoke, c'mon it's alright
If you wanna drink, c'mon we popping Don Perion
Doing the damn thang 'til the dawn

'Til the dawn

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My Writes - Lyrics - De La Soul

Title: My Writes
Artist: De La Soul
Composer(s): David Jolicouer, Kelvin Mercer, James Robinson, David Jolicoeur, Vincent Mason, M Mcbride, Alvin Joiner, James Anthony Robinson, M. Mcbride, Rico Smith

Lyric:
Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life
Got bitches throwin' they drawers on stage, that ain't me
I raise kids, push whips, piss an MC
Love money like I love my moms

Love my nigga Com Sense
When he bang dents all up in they wallets
Wall to wall bullshit, I got hardwood floors
Set sail for tour ever since eighty-nine
So y'all are fuckin' the same hoes who used to be mine

And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people
Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal
Dose of hop hippin' if you thought CaTash was slippin'
Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'
CaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize
Fuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized

Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this
Hand over fist, how can a man act like a bitch?
Change and switch, snitch on his crew
Yo, get rid of the niggaz before the same thing happen to you

And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue
Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out
Motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out
Got you on your knees like a freak

Jugglin' deez nuts smugglin' these cuts from S.C.
You best believe there's no web or weave a net
We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat

Yo, what you know about my writes?
What you know about what's weak, what's tight?
And what you know about an off night?
What you know about niggaz frontin' for the light?

And what you know about them gun fights?
Got a nigga duckin' while them girls show fright
And what you know about my writes?
Ah, what you know about my writes?

Yeah, yeah, look, I'm Samson without Delilah, the soul survivor
The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake
Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol
My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin' shots I call

My niggaz gotta ball, never settle for less
Heavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts
Step into my office 'cause it's time for you to roll somethin'
One false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'

Yo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps
Drawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, 'cause I won it
They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet
They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet

The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain
But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name
So pass the mic so I can put in my share
I rip it from home to L.A. with connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere

Drinkin' up Black and Tan in the back of a van
I learned as a young man, long trip, piss in a can
Gettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land
Let your mind expand, everyday have a plan

Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan
You got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand
Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand
And go, 'Uptown Saturday Night' like Geechie Dan

I keep it dirty like under the bed
Dirty like Uncle Red, aiyyo, well hella poo-poo
Dirty brown Liquid flow thicker than the Yoo-hoo
Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin' it all

Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work
Expert, tryin' to regulate my network
Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it
If they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it

Yo, what you know about my writes?
What you know about what's weak, what's tight?
And what you know about an off night?
What you know about niggaz frontin' for the light?

And what you know about them gun fights?
Got a nigga duckin' while them girls show fright
And what you know about my writes?
Ah, what you know about my writes?

And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn
Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave 'Potholes in Yo' Lawn'
You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way
I can shut y'all niggaz down like the Y-2-K

I did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe
We on the same vibe, 'cause real niggaz coincide
The situation is drastic
But see songs like these is why this album goin' classic

This is for the DJ, bring it back one time
I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme
I'm old school like my dad is
So add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?

Aiyyo, we theme park status, upstage these niggaz like Gladys
Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire
Blamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes
In this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms

Yeah, we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic
And I ain't gotta say no names
Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame
Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame

Brand name fresh out the box type hustle
Manpower success is mind over muscle
Grind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss
I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss

Nailed to the cross it's time to return
My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn
Hollywood burn, burn to the ground
Trick-ass niggaz is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down

Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back
De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that
And what you know about us droppin' ya
And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?

And what you know about my writes?
What you know about what's weak, what's tight?
And what you know about an off night?
What you know about niggaz frontin' for the light?

And what you know about them gun fights?
Got a nigga duckin' while them girls show fright
And what you know about my writes?
Ah, what you know about my writes?
Ah, what you know about my writes?
Ah, what you know about my writes?

You got the right to shut the fuck up

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Where I'M From - Lyrics - Same As It Ever Was - House Of Pain

Title: Where I'M From
Album: Same As It Ever Was
Artist: House Of Pain
Composer(s): L Dimant, Eric Schrody

Lyric:
That's where I'm from
That's where I'm from

Back in the hub we used to drop madel, contemplate in hell
The stories I could tell would freak your mind and wreck your brain
The thoughts I would have would drive most insane
The band playin', "Rain gettin' down wit' Jimmy Hendrix, and Page"
Make up the rage, back in the Huddle
McLou's back yard, me and D was starvin'
And times were hard, Danny used to roll through

Schemin' on the hustle, credit cards and slang
M..MC bangin', Lethal used to come with his reel to reel
We didn't have no deal but that wasn't the point
We'd rock a funky joint then we'd rock another
The only thing to eat was some bread and peanut butter
Back to all the females that beded me
In case you ever wondered they didn't forget me
These are the times that I always think of
And this is dedicated to the ones I love

That's where I'm from
Where're you goin' if you don't look back
What's the use of havin' ends
If you lose all your friends

That's where I'm from
Where're you goin' if you don't look back
What's the use of havin' ends
If you lose all your friends

That's where I'm from
Where're you goin' if you don't look back
What's the use of havin' ends
If you lose all your friends

That's where I'm from
Where're you goin' if you don't look back
What's the use of havin' ends
If you lose all your friends

Paintin' on the wall, ten years gone by
Playin' on the stereo with the volume kinda low
Scheme Team's comin', bring me along
We gonna throw a hut party til' the break of dawn
With the Soul poppin', that's Soul Poetry
Chameleon playin' bringin' wit' that team

Bring a tab and a 40 and a bag of weed
That's all I need G 'cuz I ain't Freaky
Trippin' for days, runnin' the maze
Goin' down to Venice, sippin' on the Guinness
These are the times that I always think of
And this is dedicated to the ones I love

That's where I'm from
Where're you goin' if you don't look back
What's the use of havin' ends
If you lose all your friends

Now times have changed and I'm on tour
And I don't see my friend every day no more
And 'cuz they don't see me they think I've changed
But I'm the same motherfucker no doubt
What's it all about, I thought we was people

I'm tryin' to get mine, I thought you had my back
Man, I can't understand, they used to slap my hand
Ask me for a grand and run wit' your man
Behind my back and diss me
If you wanna fuck me first ya gotta kiss me

That's where I'm from
Where're you goin' if you don't look back
What's the use of havin' ends
If you lose all your friends

That's where I'm from
Where're you goin' if you don't look back
What's the use of havin' ends
If you lose all your friends

That's where I'm from
Where're you goin' if you don't look back
What's the use of havin' ends
If you lose all your friends

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158b95c080cce8e2169322d409676b68

Here Comes The G - Lyrics - Mack 10

Title: Here Comes The G
Artist: Mack 10
Composer(s): Steve Borgerding, Joe B Reineke

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Lyric:
Hey, hey, hey, baby, check it out
I'm K-Dee an' that's my nigga, Mack 10 over there
Now he gotta be cooler than the nigga that you sittin' with
So pump yo' brakes 'cause here comes the G, Foe Life
That's right, uh, what the fuck you smilin' at? Right

It's that nigga, Westside swingin'
Heat, I'm bringin' like I'm bangin', slangin', khakis hangin'
Took the script an' I'm flippin' it, got bustas straight trippin' it
Never thought Mack 10'll be the new nigga rippin' shit

Real G style on a funky freestyle
Solo flow, show with my bitch an' my lolo
Gettin' my floss on as I slide my locs on
Hit the corna', bitch, hold on, Danas is what I roll on

So watch yo' step, quiet, it's kept on the leak
I blast, I don't stick the different nigga in the click
As I kick rhymes, niggas pick mines from the stack
Threw the roof on the sack, then cut the 'lac front an' back

On all gold, hundred spoke D's when I skis
Nigga, please, wannabe G's don't wanna see these
Straight from killa Cali, it's like the Valley of Death
Of who's left, I'll be a G 'til my very last breath

Alli alli, all come free, here comes the G
Fresh as a new pack, I'll be doper than my cavi sack
Alli alli, all come free, here comes the G
Checkin' loot like it's crazy, in painter pants an' Stacy's

Alli alli, all come free, here comes the G
Fresh as a new pack, I'll be doper than my cavi sack
Alli alli, all come free, here comes the G
Checkin' loot like it's crazy, in painter pants an' Stacy's

Now as I roll through the turf with that true G pride
Feelin' high as I ride from the West to the Eastside
On them switches, went from rags to riches
All snitches must die, I can't lie, I like them hoochie bitches

Though I know that a hoe is a gamble
Scandal hard to handle them dookie braids an' sandals
That's how I like it, hike it, touchdown, then spike it
Then pipe it so tough, they can't gripe it, right

So if it's on from uh, dusk 'til dawn
Keep it crackin', stay packin' as long as niggas jackin'
Mackin' like Goldie, bumpin' nothin' but oldies
Reminiscin', tilt the 40's when I vibe the dead homies

Yeah, I wanna say what's up to all my deceased homeboys
From the West an' Eastside, didn't make it to see this rap
Oh yeah, it's still Mack 10, Foe Life
Puttin' it down like this here

Alli alli, all come free, here comes the G
Fresh as a new pack, I'll be doper than my cavi sack
Alli alli, all come free, here comes the G
Checkin' loot like it's crazy, in painter pants an' Stacy's

Alli alli, all come free, here comes the G
Fresh as a new pack, I'll be doper than my cavi sack
Alli alli, all come free, here comes the G
Checkin' loot like it's crazy, in painter pants an' Stacy's

Down for the dirt, I sport khakis and a white t-shirt
Slangin' work, got the big birdies that don't chirp
I came up from a crawler, now my stack is taller
Big baller, shot caller, movin' shit like a U Hauler

So now it's on like that an' I'm rollin'
Controllin' the 'hood, guns about a boat swollen
Back arms tatted, so tweed can get gatted
Cavi, water, weed or speed, what you need? 'Cause I have it

So come through, run through an' uhh, smell the vapors
Won't be no set trip if it's all about paper
Down with the Lynch Mob, I can't go wrong
Well known an' it's on bankin' corners in my Brougham

Alli alli, all come free, here comes the G
Fresh as a new pack, I'll be doper than my cavi sack
Alli alli, all come free, here comes the G
Checkin' loot like it's crazy, in painter pants an' Stacy's

Alli alli, all come free, here comes the G
Fresh as a new pack, I'll be doper than my cavi sack
Alli alli, all come free, here comes the G
Checkin' loot like it's crazy, in painter pants an' Stacy's

Mack 10, Westside, Foe Life an' we out

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Right Now - Lyrics - Out Of Business - Epmd

Title: Right Now
Album: Out Of Business
Artist: Epmd
Composer(s): Erick Sermon, Parrish Smith

Lyric:
Right here right now?

Yeah uh huh
Uh huh
Ah y'all know what that is yo uh huh (E Dub)
Uh huh uh huh y'know what that is word up
(Wax and tax em) The Squadron PMD Erick Sermon
(Millenium Ducats) Yo yo uh huh
Def Jam

Excuse me! I'm tryin to earn a mere buck or two
Yo my name's E Dub so who the fuck are you?
I'm lockin it down now and that's that
I'm the bigga nigga, supreme vigor figure with cap
Hold your gat, I can't control the sound
If the beat grabs you up, then hold yourself down
Captivates, give it raw to the kick and snare
Like UHH-HUH YEAH YEAH

I love it when my jewels dangles
Could see stars, like the Bangles
When you approach me, adress me as Mr. like Bojangles
Death Decepticon, bad intentions when we reppin on
Microphones, step in the set and start flexin on
Your big man, don't lose focus and watch the quicksand
Kill the drama, my nigga lean on cats, like a kickstand
Fuck it, Erick and Parrish Millenium Ducats
Fully flossed out, two G's, Fisherman bucket

Who? EPMD got checks to cash
What what? Drop bombs for the clubs to blast
When? Right now, so my crew could flash
Where? Right here, get the money and stash

Who? EPMD got checks to cash
What what? Drop bombs for the clubs to blast
When? Right now, so my crew could flash
Where? Right here, get the money and stash

Aiyyo what's that song, that got the average dude
Playin the fool, hittin the bong with Cheech and Chong
What? Me and Mic Doc rock the spot like we're up
With more technique, than Bruce Lee with num-chuks (wha-TAH)
Pure player, my rap flow's athletic
Workout seven albums rap calisthetics
EPMD now here to getcha
With a blow, you coulda sworn Roy Jones hit ya

Cats can't hold me, Erick and Parrish, we hold the trophy
Scorn your team all day so I suggest you change your goalie
Cause I'm hype again, with E Double, on the mic again
Crack a 40, spark a L, then pop a ?Perkadan?
Straight off tiggy, ridin shotgun with my niggy
No diggy, E and P tight like Lenny and Squiggy
Sundullah, no one cooler than the rap ruler
And to the cats out there frontin, yo, you can't fool us

Who? EPMD got checks to cash
What what? Drop bombs for the clubs to blast
When? Right now, so my crew could flash
Where? Right here, get the money and stash

Aiyyo, stop, drop, and roll, we on fire
And we won't stop rockin til we retire
Who said we Out of Biz? That there was a liar
I'm Sammy Sosa, and P's Mark McGwire
Home run hitters, with black tar beneath the eye
If you wanna hate me, do it now, try
I'm lethal, take it back to EPMD third album
And do it For My People

I jump out the plane and hanglide
Hit the ice and slip-slide
Niggaz don't get it, EPMD status, correct me if I'm
Mistaken, currently record breakin and still bakin
Like Kevin to Footloose only difference we keep the sytsem quakin
Dusk to dawn, word is bond
You fuck with EPMD, Erick and Parrish, the shit is on
Cause we roll with a street team that donate posters
Quick to roast ya
Run up with the gat cocked back, clap, and smoke ya

Who? EPMD got checks to cash
What what? Drop bombs for the clubs to blast
When? Right now, so my crew could flash
Where? Right here, get the money and stash

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