Area Codes - Lyrics - Word Of Mouf - Ludacris

Title: Area Codes
Album: Word Of Mouf
Artist: Ludacris
Composer(s): Billy Nichols, Nathaniel Hale, Chris Bridges, Phalon Alexander

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Lyric:
I've got hoes
(I've got hoes)
In different area codes, area codes
(Area, codes)
Hoes
(Hoes,hoes)
In different area codes, area codes
(Area, codes)

Now you thought I was just 7-7-0, and 4-0-4?
I'm worldwide, bitch act like y'all know, it's the abominabol-hoe man
Globe-trot international post man, neighbor-dick dope man
7-1-8's, 2-0-2's, I send small cities and states I-O-U's
9-0-1, matter fact 3-0-5, I'll jump off the G4, we can meet outside
So control your hormones and keep your drawers on
'Til I close the door and I'm jumping your bones
3-1-2's, 3-1-3's, 2-1-5's, 8-0-tree's
Read your horoscope and eat some horderves
Ten on pump one, these hoes is self serve
7-5-7, 4-1-0's, my cell phone just overloads

I've got hoes
(I've got hoes)
In different area codes, area codes
(Area, codes)
Hoes
(Hoes,hoes)
In different area codes, area codes
(Area, codes)

Now everyday is a hoe-ly day, so stop the violence
And put the 4-4 away, skeet shoot a hoe today
5-0-4, 9-7-2's, 7-1-tree, whatcha gon' do?
You checkin' out the scene, I'm checkin' a hoe tonight
With perpendicular, vehicular homicide
3-1-4, 2-0-1, too much green, too much fun
I bang cock in Bangkok, can't stop, I turn and hit the same spot
Think not, I'm the thriller in Manilla
Schlong in Hong Kong, pimp 'em like Bishop, Magic, Don Juan
Man after Henny with a coke and a smile
I just pick up the motherfuckin' phone and dial
I got my condoms in a big ass sack
I'm slangin' this dick like a New Jack
(Biatch)

Is it 'cuz they like my gangsta walk?
(Gangsta walk)
Is it 'cuz they like my gangsta talk?
(Gangsta talk, ohh)
Is it 'cuz they like my handsome face?
(Handsome face)
Is it 'cuz they like my gangsta ways?
(Gangsta talk, ohh)
Whatever it is, they love it, and they just won't let me be
I handles my biz, don't rush me, just relax and let me be free
Whenever I call, come runnin' 2-1-2 or 2-1-3
You know that I ball, stop frontin' or I'll call my substitute freak
(Hoes)

I've got hoes
(I've got hoes)
In different area codes, area codes
(Area, codes)
Hoes
(Hoes,hoes)
In different area codes, area codes
(Area, codes)

Uh, 9-1-6, 4-1-5, 7-0-4, shout out to the 2-0-6
Everybody in the 8-0-8, ha-ah, 2-1-6, 7-0-2, 4-1-4
3-1-7, 2-1-4's and the 2-8-1's, 3-3-4, 2-0-5, I see ya
Uh-uh, 3-1-8, 6-0-1's, 2-0-tree, 8-0-4, 4-0-2, 3-0-1
9-0-4, 4-0-7, 8-5-0, 7-0-8, 5-0-2
Hoes in different area codes, know that
Southern Hoes-pitality, Northern Exhoes-ure
Ha-ha, hoe ridin' on the West coast
Ya understand what I'm sayin'?
Uh-uh, hoe-cus pocus, you the dopest
Uh, hoes to the right, hoes to the left, five hoes this time
Whoo! Hoe-no!

The Hip-hop hoeoller-coster, that's what we on right now
Ha-ha, no need to get all hoes-tile
Yeah! Whoo!
Def Jam South baby, Disturbing Tha Peace
Dazaphy-zy, Uncle Face
Ludacris, uh, hoes I'm sweatin' like a motherfucka

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7fc43cba6fd79637dc67d53c137a85bd

7 Jam - Lyrics - Clutch - Clutch

Title: 7 Jam
Album: Clutch
Artist: Clutch
Composer(s): Dan Maines, Neil Fallon, Tim Sult, Jean-Paul Gaster

Lyric:
Everything gonna be all right
Everything gonna be all right, yeah
Everything gonna be all right
Everything gonna be all right, yeah

I went deep down into that river now, I rose up
I felt that sun beat down upon this sinner's face, yeah, yeah

I went deep in that water now, I rose up
I felt that sun beat down upon my face, yeah, yeah

Everything gonna be all right
Everything gonna be all right, yeah, yeah
Everything gonna be all right
Everything gonna be all right, yeah here we go

So the I smash the palace like the son of Samson
Hollerin' louder than all of Bedlam
Take me to higher ground
And bury my body six feet down

And I walked forty miles out into that desert now
Wailed and moaned till a Lion, he called my name, yeah

And he said that Old Ship of Zion is taking way, way out
Out into outer space, yeah, yeah

And he said everything gonna be all right
Everything gonna be all right, yes
Here we come, here we come, here we come, oh yeah

I climbed the highest of the heights
Atop that mountain I watched the day turn into night

Oh I tell you I was a wretched sight
But I stood long and hard until the light

Rubbing needles in my eyes, eating dirt
I stood up and everything was all right

Everything gonna be all right
Everything gonna be all right, yeah
Everything gonna be all right
Everything gonna be all right, here we go

So the I smash the palace like the son of Samson
Hollerin' louder than all of Bedlam
Take me to higher ground
And bury my body six feet down

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557174da5c3295e3258b998cca8945af

So Sexy Chapter Ii - Lyrics - Twista

Title: So Sexy Chapter Ii
Artist: Twista
Composer(s): Robert Kelly, Carl Mitchell

Lyric:
Do you want me to slow it down?
Do you want me to speed it up?
Do you want me to slow it down?
Do you want me to speed it up?

You ain't never heard a slow jam like this
You ain't never had a remix like this
You ain't never been freaky like this
Rollin' on 24's like this
Never had a pool party like this
Never sipped on Cris much as this
Never been to an island like this
Make one wish and I'll give you all of this

Girl you remind me of my jeep and my S5
First I was on top of you now you sayin' lets ride
Freakin' yo body so good I give you wet thighs
When we get together you know we make the sex live
Take you to paradise while massaging you down
Feeling betta with twins managin' you down
Make you explode and now I'm calming you down
So good that you don't want me to bother you now

Now listen here come and kick it with the players
Ghetto majors and the thumpa sprayers and we never
Got no room for no haters when we pull up on them 24 omegas
While I'm smoking on a gar seeing Vega you by my side
We be on one when we hangin', what earthquake say is wrong
In a relationship we a corporation lets take over the nation
Let me get up with you girl don't be trippin' on yo guy he gone
Be up when the heat come out 'cause you could rub the
Lamp three times and still won't a mutha mutha like me come out

You ain't never heard a slow jam like this
You ain't never had a remix like this
You ain't never been freaky like this
Rollin' on 24's like this
Never had a pool party like this
Never sipped on Cris much as this
Never been to an island like this
Make one wish and I'll give you all of this

You ain't never had a playa like me to take you shoppin'
Take you to the crib and sex you nonstop and bone thugs top droppin'
VIP with the bottles poppin' so clean we gotta take a picture
So sexy I wanna get wit you girl I'll be singing thrilla
While you be squeezing pillows and we can take a shower together

Get cozy in stormy weather and if you ever going through something
I promise to make it better you just keep on loving a thug
Massage and some sex when I tell you it's time you ain't never
Gotta want for nothing as long as you down and you ready to ride
I wanna give you them butterflies have you head all off up in the sky
And we be going, weo weo weo weo

You ain't never heard a slow jam like this
You ain't never had a remix like this
You ain't never been freaky like this
Rollin' on 24's like this
Never had a pool party like this
Never sipped on Cris much as this
Never been to an island like this
Make one wish and I'll give you all of this

You ain't never rode in a Bentley lookin' like this, you ain't
Never got up with a thug nigga like this or got with a balla
That spit to the rhythm like this or kick it with a platinum
Plus nigga like this, well looka here now come look at how
The player T drop the top Kelly and Twista peep how we rock the block
Platinum Ferrari it nothing shorty you it's chump change or pull up
In the 7-4 to the fend, won't you get in while I'm steady blowin'

Smoke in the wind hoping to win, now speakin' words to my
Head in the bed then after we work then we can do it that one way
Lookin' thick as a loaf of bread by legs and you get at shakin' the way
The Twista make the tongue play and this is for the love and the ladies
The fine women that be rolling Mercedes setting freaky and we be going
Weo weo weo weo

You ain't never heard a slow jam like this
You ain't never had a remix like this
You ain't never been freaky like this
Rollin' on 24's like this
Never had a pool party like this
Never sipped on Cris much as this
Never been to an island like this
Make one wish and I'll give you all of this

Slow it down
Do you want me to speed it up?
Do you want me to slow it down?
Do you want me to speed it up?

Do you want me to slow it down?
Do you want me to speed it up?
Do you want me to slow it down?
And we be going weo weo weo weo

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161845d7ee09c31ffa57f54b10f5cbe2

The Do Wop - Lyrics - Bigger & Deffer - Ll Cool J

Title: The Do Wop
Album: Bigger & Deffer
Artist: Ll Cool J
Composer(s): Bob Ervin, D Pierce, D Simon, James T Smith

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

Lyric:
L.L. Cool J
Serving 'em well
And as you all know
I am hard as hell

Woke up at 9:30 on a Saturday morn'
Hemmed my remote control, turned my stereo on
Then I reached for a brush since I don't use the picks
And the floor was kinda cold so I put on my kicks

Walked to the kitchen and ate some cornflakes
As I bop to a tape of Cut Creator's breaks
With hardcore, heavyweight, b-boy blast
Connoisseur of hardcore and Cut Creator's fast

Jumped in the shower, it was boiling hot
So I stayed there a hour 'cause I like it a lot
Jumped out, dried off, put on the Denim cologne
Then I called up Earl on the telephone

He told me 'bout a jam that I could do later on
10 g's plus a Limo for one strong song
So I said, yeah, I was with it, hung up and got geared
Got a magnifying glass then I brushed my beard

Rewound some tapes of some Def Jam tunes
As I waited for this freak to ring my bell at noon
12 o'clock came, left the door crack
The freak walked in a mink on her back

Put her curt on the rack, threw my [Incomprehensible] on
Then I threw in a tape of the quiet storm
We drank Roundhill Cavern, ate soft mignons
She said, "L.L., when you're gonna let me taste your tongue?"

My skin got pale, I wam-bammed the tail
Did it so hard I shoulda went to jail
She left, Earl came over and we went outside
Jumped in the BM to bust a joyride

Went up to A.J. in my fresh black wheel
I'm not a sucker on the corner trying to scrape up a meal
The girlies want sex, the fellas try to plex
But those who flex end up with broke necks

Signed some autographs for a posse of freaks
Said, "It's L, baby, I ain't down with Chic"
We conversated with the skeezers for 10 minutes more
Then I jumped in my ride and the freaks slammed the door

Due 'cause I'm a gangster people think I do crimes
They don't know I'm just a connoisseur of hip-hop rhymes
Some smile, try to call L.L. a hoodlum at times
But he don't know my autograph's on his wife's behind

L.L. has iced all the washed up slobs
Vigilante of rap so to hell with the mob
Don't run from the cops, making suckers jock
And I'm only 18 making more than your pops

Tormentor of toys and boyscout boys
And I dare any critic to call it noise
Peeped at the clock, it said 6:03
Said later to Creator and broke out with E

Went up to White Castle for a chocolate shake
Thinking 'bout a 100'000 that I'd soon make
Finished up the snack, jumped up, out my seat
E-Love hit the table and he made up a beat

Kicked a few lines, stepped out the door
Since tonight is a bore I'm in the mood for more
We jumped in my ride, I took a peek at the time
It was almost 7:30 and the show was at nine

L.L. Cool J will soon stand at a jam
With thousands of people screaming, "Touch my hand"
But since I had a hour plus a half for tat
I was searching for the cutie who's my perfect match

Her name was Renee, her face was okay
But she had the kinda body that made Jay wanna play
I said, "No need to rehearse", then I made my approach
Said, "You got a good team, girl but you need a new coach"

Said, "My name's L.L.Cool, if I may introduce
But I'm not here for conversation, I'm here to seduce
Wanna mix it up baby, wanna feel you grind
'Cause it ain't 5th grade and these ain't nursery rhymes"

"And I know that you adore my sure side hardcore
Check out the real L.L. behind closed doors
So tell your buddies you're busy, tell your boyfriend beat it
Forget the silk dress 'cause you ain't gonna need it"

"Unplug your clock, do away with the light
After five minutes or more you hear me say, that's right
Your body is bad and I heard you got a Caddy
When we make love you can call me daddy"

"I'm L.L. Cool J, say hey, Renee
I'm not a toyboy but I still wanna play
Promise you, I'm not wack when I'm in the sack
After that I leave you starving for me to come back"

"But in the meantime, put your digits down
And the next time I see ya I'm going to town"
Stepped away from the freak, it was a quarter to nine
When I rolled to the jam I saw the crew on line

Took a trip around the side, so I could get backstage
If you call me a tiger, then the stage is my cage
I rip, stomp and crush, heavy metal bands rust
Them flaky knuckleheads I crumble up like crust

Walked in my dressing room and then I heard four knocks
They said, "L.L., you're running late and it's time to rock"
Told Cut Creator what the order would be
Then I said "Lord have mercy" and slapped hands with E
Went onstage, I heard the girlies scream
And that's the very moment I woke up from the dream

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b9c79fb7e4bcda4d5e72f44925fc8afc

I Need A Man - Lyrics - Foxy Brown

Title: I Need A Man
Artist: Foxy Brown
Composer(s): Seven Aurelius, Bob Bacon, Phylicia Celeste, Inga Marchand

Lyric:
(I just need a)
Yo 7, this is Fever man, yes, indeed
This is another Ill Na Na production
Ill Na Na, Def Jam, baby, all the way, yes

From the streets of BK
To the streets of Long Beach, Compton
L.A., Los Angeles, y'know, California
(Aurelius 7)

I just need a, I just need a man
(Back up in New York City, the strong streets down in H-Town)
Strong and understands
(To the Windy City of Chicago, Chi Town)

All my life's demands, all my loving
(To the city of brotherly love, Philadelphia)

I just need a, not jealous of me
(Down in the Sunshine State, Miami)
Loves me for just me
(This is how we do it, baby)

Tellin' you the real is that I need a
(C'mon, yeah, yes)
I just need a

Homie, look, what you sellin', I ain't buyin'
With dude I'm done, tell him I ain't cryin'
You'll see the proof when I drop my album
It's the past now, plus dawg I'm better without him
(I just need a)
Dude that act right
If my life go dim, he can be my flashlight
Not the rebound dude who abused his last wife
A dude that ain't afraid to lose the mack life

And you don't got to question if he truly care
A little, dinner here, movie there
And he won't treat his wifey like his last whore, see
Is that too much to ask for?
But, I'm wiser now, I'm older now
And the truth is, a need a man to hold me down
And by now most dudes know what, "Na Na, be like"
So this time when I'm doing it, I'm doin' it right, yes

I just need a, I just need a man
(Woo)
Strong and understands
(Ill Na Na, baby)
All my life's demands, all my loving
(Yeah, yes)

I just need a, not jealous of me
(Oh)
Loves me for just me
Tellin' you the real is that I need a
I just need a

The dread straight jealous of mine
I put him on, you would think he would relish the time
But he didn't, kept fibbin' and kept his feelings hidden
Intimidated, slowly the love disintegrated, it's like I'm driving
(I just need a)
Making a wrong turn, woo
I need stability, something that's long term and
Maybe a dude with no kids
But he get deported, I'm troopin' his whole bid now
(I just need a)

A dude that respect his moms
Ain't afraid of the marriage or pushin' our baby carriage, whoa
I come home and he runnin' my bath
Late night's stressed out but he makin' me laugh and
(I just need a)
A dude that my brothers approve
A thorough man by my side if I win or I lose
But if I'm cool or I'm spazzin', we still a team
Dubbin' hard in the dancehall bashment

I just need a, I just need a man
Strong and understands
All my life's demands, all my loving

I just need a, not jealous of me
Loves me for just me
Tellin' you, the real is that I need a
I just need a

Built for the struggle and he move with integrity
Can handle my celebrity
A dude that's in love with Inga, respect Fox
And put a blue stone on my finger
(I just need a)
And cry with me, if we fight, we fight
But if I'm right, if I'm wrong, I'm right
And, homie look, what you sellin' I ain't buyin'
With dude I'm done, tell him I ain't cryin'

I just need a, I just need a man
(Now ladies throw ya hands up high)
Strong and understands
(And tell 'em niggas no longer we gon' cry)

All my life's demands
(And this a new year now)
All my loving
(Y'all don't have to fear now 'cuz ya girl Fox here now)

I just need a, not jealous of me
(So throw ya hands up high)
Loves me for just me
(And tell these niggas no longer we gon' cry)

Tellin' you
(And this a new year now)
The real is that I need a
(Y'all don't have to fear now 'cuz ya girl Fox here now, yes)
I just need a

Lookin' for a thug, oh baby, baby, baby
(Yo 7, this is Fever, man)
I just need a
I'm just lookin' for a thug, oh baby, baby, baby
I just need a

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d752780bffff43abc32acead969eca3a

Go Cut Creator Go - Lyrics - Bigger & Deffer - Ll Cool J

Title: Go Cut Creator Go
Album: Bigger & Deffer
Artist: Ll Cool J
Composer(s): Bob Ervin, D Pierce, D Simon, James T Smith

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

Lyric:
1, 2, 3 o' clock, 4 o' clock, rock
5, 6, 7 o' clock, 8 o' clock, rock
9, 10, 11 o' clock, 12 o' clock, rock
Gonna rock, rock, rock around the clock

Three years ago in St. Albans, Queens
I was rockin' at a park called One Eighteen
Little kids stood and watched as I rocked the spot
Didn't know, years later I'll be standin' on top

Livin' Farmers Boulevard I was born and base shaw
Stopped the rich and shake hands with the poor
And this is a story about a brother I know
Cut Creator on the fader, now watch him go

Go, go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go

Go, go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go

Way back in the days before I clocked some dough
I used to go to the show and sit in the front row
Hopin' and prayin' one day I'll get on the road
So I had a feeler and a summer and I meet when I'm stoned

Not fearin' a thought, got stung like a horse
Don't make fun of my posse 'cause each man is a boss
When his only damn way to pull a jam out the crate
One time for your mind, check out the guitar break

Go, go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go

Go, go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go

This jam just wasn't enough for Jimmy Hendrix to see
[Incomprehensible] lessons of mixin', take you under his wing
Straight from the heart 'cause it ain't the money that we came here for
Ain't no thoughts in the room, ain't breakin' no roles

And in the Rock 'n' Roll land, a big strivin' plan
Just my posse learn the vocals, what little we had
It's all about us three, Eve, Phil and Jay
He heard Cut Creator cut now check it out to play

Go, go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go

Go, go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go

Rock, rock, y'all, check out the funky cut
It's like travelin' through time to the straight cats strut
Cuts are slicker than Grease, needle sharper than knife
We'll be do doin' the doo for the rest of the lines

Who want a piece of the action? It's time to party, get up
Not a subway bummy singer puttin' change in a cup
Wanna see you boogie, oogie jumpin' up and down
Bitin' your livin' hold your breath until we come to your town

LL Cool J is hard as
Cut Creator cut the record for me

Go, go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go

Go, go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go

LL Cool J is hard as
Go, go, go, go

Go, go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go

LL Cool J is hard as hell

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7a15b78115cf5dfde864e31e5e6574d6

4 My Niggaz - Lyrics - Lil' Cease

Title: 4 My Niggaz
Artist: Lil' Cease
Composer(s): James Lloyd, Rayshaun Spain, Davin Vanderpool, Sean Combs, Shawn Carter, J Fisher

Lyric:
What you sayin'?
Roca Fella
(Uh huh)
General
(Uh huh)
B.I.G.
(Right on)
QB
(That show nuff right on)
Fuck niggas wanna do man
(Nothing)

See Cease a Leo
(Huh)
I'm for the kids
(Right)
Sometimes we gotta get gutter on this motherfuckers y'know
It's how we do it
(Yeah)
Feel me baby?

Yo yo
Stay away from 38 tech nines and shotty
I wanna move swift, but don't blow like John Gotty
I'm something to watch, like the paparazzi
Hard to copy, shock waves can't stop me
Got dogs big as Bruce Smith to block me
It's Blake on the grape, pouring ya juice, tickle your weight
Just might be, politely, leave your man to ache
The guns are dirty? You know I double check the safe

I take it all, still be the last to escape
Kick It like Q-Tip, we get it killed for a few chips
Got a new whip, new house, got a new zip code
Watch the stroll, little Ace
A soldier that was born to roll
I love God and you know I got soul
To sell around the globe and more bank than tower
Dime just rewind, it was hard to find her
Found out my niggas got right behind her

Y'all niggas got dick bricks, scared to grab the fifth
But I done did that, recognize the clique
Back round six-four times, fellas and shit
Make mils off the stories that we tellin' and shit
'Til I said to myself, "My life is betta than this"
I wanna party, live it up, pop Don and Cris
In a lake with a waterproof on my wrist
Been a professional, now I'm starting to mix

We rhyme to kick tricks, for kids, I bring it where ya live
Run up in your crisp, tie up your wife and kids
Send my man out, G, pissed off a ten-year bid
We live this real street life
And that's word to B.I.G.
(Uh)

I'm the type to analyze ya
(What)
Move swift like Kaiser
(Uh)
My appearance surprise ya
(Yeah)
About 5'4", my .45 is live
(Uh, uh)
Don't ya get live? Never judge your man by size
(Uh, yo)

I'ma do my thang, I'ma do my thang
Do I do my thang, I'ma do my thang
Watch me do my thang, I'ma do my thang
For my niggaz, do my thang, I'ma do my thang
Uh, do my thang, I'ma do my thang
Do I do my thang, I'ma do my thang
Watch me do my thang, I'ma do my thang
For my niggaz, Brooklyn

Yo, yo, yo, yo
This my war I ride for lick one in the sky for
Get back everything that my nigga die for
Since his death, many steps and many left
Niggas owe money, yo, niggas can't pay a penny less
Cease got the squeeze, I'ma let these fuckers know
BK style, my niggas Love the Dough
About six hard years, eleven months ago
We was all puffin' 'dro, nowhere to go

Now I get dough, get low, let a slug blow
Cops say "Got evidence?" Let the dog go
Here's the answer, you fucking with Leo Ganza
Nigga's coke so raw, you gone need a sampler
Niggas better be as wise as me or die like me
Or go see the board then and frown like me
Got niggas takin' pictures throwin' pies on me
Motherfuckers' all eyez on me

Whatever happened to Brook-lawn?
Better yet, Crook-lawn?
Niggas even look wrong, niggas get hooked on
Picture me making a shook song
No, I know the wars we took on
Niggas better get gone

Yeah, flow sicker on every record
Watch Sean, glock nine, nigga, heavy necklace
Watch mine, about to make niggas very jealous
Ice in every letter, untouchable, can't fuck with duke
Thug spit, arms shake, who I'm gone play
With the CEO of the Coke on Broadway, huh?
Never heard so many choices from one man
I make bitches, fuck it, I make the gun jam

Flows like sniffin' a hundred grams o'
Cocaine raw, rip your whole brain off, uh
Make it real easy to lift your chain off
BK style, see Jay how
(What)
(Uh)
We don't play fair, we play foul
Go head, stand there, we spray crowds
Live from the 7-1-8
If there ever was one great
I'm him, nigga, times three

I'ma do my thang, I'ma do my thang
Do I do my thang, I'ma do my thang
Watch me do my thang, I'ma do my thang
For my niggaz, do my thang, I'ma do my thang
Uh, do my thang, I'ma do my thang
Do I do my thang, I'ma do my thang
Watch me do my thang, I'ma do my thang
For my niggaz, Brooklyn

I'ma do my thang, I'ma do my thang
Do I do my thang, I'ma do my thang
Watch me do my thang, I'ma do my thang
For my niggaz, do my thang, I'ma do my thang
Uh, do my thang, I'ma do my thang
Do I do my thang

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f3e412178d390547eda7e9fa0244c475

Shut The Eff Up! - Lyrics - Mc Lyte

Title: Shut The Eff Up!
Artist: Mc Lyte
Composer(s): Kirk Robinson, Lana Moorer, Nathaniel V Robinson Jr.

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

Lyric:
I think it's time I start feeling bitchy
I've been too nice, too long
Yup, it's definitely time I get nasty

Gon' be some shit
Hot damn hoe
Gon' be some shit
Hot damn hoe
Gon' be some shit
Hot damn hoe
Hot damn hoe
Gon' be some shit
Hot damn

Before this jam starts, I'm simply stating
You have all waited, now you can stop waiting
Shall I ease into the disses, go 20, then 30
Or shall I got straight to 80%?
Aw, it doesn't matter, when you're dissed, you're dissed
The party's not over, it's just beginnin'
Because Lyte is winning, what are you winning?
Any battle in any competition

'The Gangstress' ha, you're on a wack journey
Hoe headed for nowhere, with time to spare
So I'ma kick this rhyme right now and right here
I'd tell your name, but that would give you fame
And I ain't out to give you what you don't have
So, I sit back and relax, 'cause it makes me laugh
I could diss, call you names and make fun of you

Hoe but me the Lyte, I'm into speakin' the truth
Like a watchtower, hour by the hour
Lyte is rhymin', perfect timin'
Milk keeps the beat, I keep the beat
With the tap of his feet, with the tap of my feet
When he count it down
When I count it down, 6, 7, 8, Lyte'll start the debate

Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Here we, here we
Gon' be some shit
Here we go again

The first thing you ask yourself is why do I bother?
When you should really ask
?Where is the father of your child, aren't we wild??
You get around like a cab, now that's too bad
Everyone has been in you, isn't that sad, bodily vibrations?
Don't make me laugh, weight watchers is waiting
Here's a free pass, you ain't gettin' loose, you fuckin' jerk
And you ain't gettin' paid, you're just gettin' laid

Sexin' and suckin', yeah, that is your trade
Put on this earth just to distract me
Get those to write rhymes and try to attack me
You will get nowhere, the Lyte is too blinding
Tell me, why must I keep reminding
You to step back, let the Lyte shine
Do not take shit till you write your own rhymes

Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Here we, here we
Gon' be some shit
Here we go again

Your mold is fake, Crayola, crayon
Don't dare to sleep or even prey on
The Lyte is too wicked, too worthy, too strong
And the rhymes I create are made to last long
Let me wise you up, rappin' isn't a sport

You either have to teach yourself, or you have to be taught
And being that you are not wise enough to do it on your own
The ones that write your rhymes might
As well hold your microphone
Dropped a little vinyl, now you think you're large
Step aside, Lyte Thee MC is in charge

Don't sleep on me, I'm far, far, far from dumb
So roll correctly if you decide to come
MC sucker, this is what you waited for
I'm sick of the battle, let's go to war
Why do you challenge me, Lyte Thee MC
Did not you know that I am crazy?

My screws are quite loose, in fact I don't have any
But when it comes to rhymes, I've got many
Like I said and will have to say
Over and over, 'cause you disobey
Here on this earth, I reign superior
One of these days, I will have to get with ya
Tear you up mentally, from limb to limb
'Cause I am the Lyte, and you are just paper thin

Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Here we, here we
Gon' be some shit
Here we go again

I sensed it, predicted it, knew it would happen
You plopped off fast on the scene and start rappin'
Now it is my duty, to all MC's
To ask you to go elsewhere, pronto, please
Now I was quite polite, nice I may add
But you insist on stayin', that makes me mad
But then again I don't mind, I've got someone to pick on

Write rhymes to diss and even play tricks on
You ain't really down, you wig-wearin' clown
Burrowin' money to buy an outfit
Not even good enough for a Sunday picnic
I ask you, do you know who you're fuckin' with
With those bubble gum jeans and those 2 for 1 skips?

I'm MC Lyte a.k.a. MC Payback
Payback is a bitch, and I'm givin' you no slack
Unfinished business, that shit was wack
So Lyte made no attempt to strike back
But here we go again, what is Light's Out?
Let me ask what the bomboclut you a chat about?
Let me say next time that you feel pissed
I suggest that you don't try to diss

Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Here we here we
Gon' be some shit
Here we go again

You better watch what you say to me, 'cause I can get evil
The things that I'm capable of are unbelievable
In 10%, I popped your head in a microwave
I'm into blenders now, so you better behave
Or put you in a toaster, because you're gettin' toasted
Better yet an oven, because you're gettin' roasted
Don't listen to your rhyme writers, 'cause yo, they souped you

You ain't dope, you can't cope, they musta dooked you
You musta had some wack crack real wack crack
Sent you on a mission, and now you're comin' back
But let me school ya, Lyte is runnin' this show
So yo, hoe, I think you oughta go
Before Lyte Thee MC gets into it
But remember, you forced me to do it

Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Here we, here we
Gon' be some shit
Here we go again

Yo, now you know
And no one's have to battle
Slime

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9b02662df20a6d35d5879af454553ff3

Wonce Again Long Island - Lyrics - Stakes Is High - De La Soul

Title: Wonce Again Long Island
Album: Stakes Is High
Artist: De La Soul
Composer(s): Raymond Earl Jackson, Kelvin Mercer, Homer Banks, David Jolicoeur, Vincent Mason, Bettye Jean Crutcher, Donald Davis

Lyric:
Wonce again, my friends, Long Island
Long Island, Long Island
Long Island, wonce again Long Island
Long Island, Long Island
Wonce again, wonce again Long Island

What the hell do you wanna be when you grow up?
I wanna be a supa emcee
Well you're already that, so let me step up to bat
Attack a hit to go beyond this age of rap counterfeits

Out of the Heavens, August 1, 7, 69
Born I, wonder why with the thoughts to rhyme
'Til there was no longer thoughts to dream
When an unpolished demo led to limos at the age of eighteen

Accompanied by the screams, Plug One
Shot up with fame like Novacaine, it made me numb
So numb I wouldn't been able to feel
Niggaz diggin' in my pockets for my currency reels

But still I make girls' brown eyes blue at will
Until my ass was no longer mass appeal
Oh shit, I guess that was all the fame I was alloted
Wait a minute, new video, like a leopard, I'm spotted

Up in a night club chillin' with Kamaal an' Phife
I be that farmer cultivatin', ownin' acres of mics
An' I likes to make it known Strong Island stylin'
For a while, so do that dance

Are you rockin' the spot? Yes, I be
Showin' others they do not? Yes, I be
Havin' then towed from the lot? Yes, I be
That's my job as a supa emcee, I'm from Long Isle

Mobile, make it worth your while
If the jam needs motion, I'm the one to dial
Goin' beyond ninety watts? Yes, I be
Well are you rockin' it? Yes, yes, I be rockin' it

I can stress the makin' of loot to feed the fam
While the voices impersonate the true who I am
Buzzin' in my ear, oh, you one of those wannabes
Always buzzin' in my ear you down with supa emcees

Steppin' to me with your pleas that you gots, butter rhymes
Man, the only thing butter 'bout you is your spine
Mad yellow, you can't rock the Mardi Gras, my mellow
'Cause my stealth show more than knowledge of self

I got knowledge of you, to know you a whack em-crew
You mean whack emcee, nah, a whack em-crew
See you a crew of whack niggaz
You should have never tried to test
These words that I, man, with the I to fest

While you sayin' one thing, really meanin' the next
You're just a contra-dick, your mind's been tampered with
Like some holy books, but looks to the sky
'Cause wonder Why's here to save the day

Are you rockin' the spot? Yes, I be
Showin' others they do not? Yes, I be
Havin' them towed from the lot? Yes, I be
'Cause ultimately, I'm lettin' all MCs know

That what's the name of this crew?
De La, De La
Well alright an' what be the dish we servin'?
We servin' posda, Posdanos help the next get loose

Like an alcohol scenario, rap be on the rocks
Authenticity's that missin' fee to pay to join the flock of MC
These niggaz stand lower than knees
Dramatized in they eyes as the ones to please

When rap kids apply violent pressure to father
Brother an' son for fun to say they inflict pain
R n' B niggaz lie to mother, sister an' daughter
To have sex disguised as lovin' in the rain

Their words are more hallow than October 31st
What's worse, hate to see the females switch to sexual mentality
It doesn't match with they given anatomy
Man, they rather be hoes like that male emcee

Who walk around like they got nuts
An' use the tits an' ass like a crutch
Man, the underground's about not bein' exposed
So you better take you naked ass an' put on some clothes

Yo, this be goin' out to them kids from East Smash
Amityville, to all my people out in Wyandanch, Bayshore
C.I.'s in the place, Brentwood, Hempstead
All my brothers out in Roosevelt, Freeport Uniondale to Long Beach
To them girls out in Huntington, Long Island prevail

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94b9f3a7c253e107e2e0cbd55a2da8a1

Bury Me A G - Lyrics - Young Jeezy

Title: Bury Me A G
Artist: Young Jeezy
Composer(s): K Crowe, C Brown, Jay Jenkins, Millie Jackson, E Ortiz, Donald French

Lyric:
Four shots to the chest, my niggas get at me
They don' fucked around and fucked up my new white tee
I'm just livin' my life, why they mad at me
Woke up this morning, I ain't see this coming

Should I even bust back, you ain't see me running
I hope heaven got a VIP line
Got some partners in hell that'll sneak me in the back door
You know I hate waitin' in line

Paramedics on the way, but they wastin' they time
Everybody standin' over a nigga, screamin' shit
Damn, y'all give a nigga a second to think
Which one of you niggas shot me, it was one of you bastards
Bet a nigga can't throw a hundred grand in my casket

Pour out a little liquor, bury me in some Evisu jeans
A USDA top and a throw away glock
Bury me a G, nothin' more nothin' less
When I get where I'm goin', I just gotta be fresh

Pour out a little liquor, bury me in some Evisu jeans
A USDA top and a throw away glock
Bury me a G, nothin' more nothin' less
When I get where I'm goin', I just gotta be fresh

We expect the worst, but hope for the best
But you know how it is, Amen God bless
I can't leave now niggas owe me money
My nigga on the west side owe me 'bout a dub

And my partner with a few, shit he owe a nigga too
I should'a hugged my son, should'a kissed my mother
Spent some time with her, show her I love her
Every night she was prayin' for me, I was in the streets

Active little nigga, should I stay in some beef
Gucci go through some real shit and he really need me
And what about the streets, shit they need me too
I'm on some got Def Jam, shit they owe a nigga too

Pour out a little liquor, bury me in some Evisu jeans
A USDA top and a throw away glock
Bury me a G, nothin' more nothin' less
When I get where I'm goin', I just gotta be fresh

Pour out a little liquor, bury me in some Evisu jeans
A USDA top and a throw away glock
Bury me a G, nothin' more nothin' less
When I get where I'm goin', I just gotta be fresh

We interrupted our program to bring you this breaking news story
I'm Kelly Washington reporting for WKKT Channel 7
Witnesses say that around 1:45 this morning
Shots were fired out of an Atlanta nightclub

Rapper Young Jeezy was involved in this shooting
But at this time it is unclear whether he was a suspect or the victim
We'll bring you further details as they become available
Back to you
(Oh, it's hard to believe he's the guy)

I was on my way, I was almost gone
I was almost there, I was almost home
It was some Kanye shit tryna touch the sky
Jesus walks, God testify

I'm a legend like John we're ordinary people
You only get one life, there's no sequel
So you can't take nothing for granted
And don't take granted for nothing

So I gotta thank God for waking me up this morning
And giving me this air to breath
Please Lord forgive me for every gram I sold
Every glock I popped, every rock that I shot

Pour out a little liquor, bury me in some Evisu jeans
A USDA top and a throw away glock
Bury me a G, nothin' more nothin' less
When I get where I'm goin', I just gotta be fresh

Pour out a little liquor, bury me in some Evisu jeans
A USDA top and a throw away glock
Bury me a G, nothin' more nothin' less
When I get where I'm goin', I just gotta be fresh

Pour out a little liquor, bury me in some Evisu jeans
A USDA top and a throw away glock
Bury me a G, nothin' more nothin' less
When I get where I'm goin', I just gotta be fresh

Pour out a little liquor, bury me in some Evisu jeans
A USDA top and a throw away glock
Bury me a G, nothin' more nothin' less
When I get where I'm goin', I just gotta be fresh

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cb829cd23df5bbc50c206683615900b9

Lay It On Me - Lyrics - Cocky - Kid Rock

Title: Lay It On Me
Album: Cocky
Artist: Kid Rock
Composer(s): R.J. Ritchie, Matthew Shafer

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

Lyric:
Lay it on me

King Cowboy baby, you know my credits
Don't ask if it's true, "Fuck it", I said it
Regret it? Never, pimpin'? Forever
Pull more hoes than the free cash levers

So you better never, question the clever, clever
I sever whatever, forget her and turn 'em redder than ever
You better wet her and leave her makin' her miss me
'Cause that's how we do it up in Detroit city

7 super charged big block HEMI
Ya eldavarge, I'm livin' more like Lemmy
B-B-Benny and the jet's is hot
But you ain't never met a motherfucker like Kid Rock

And twisted brown truckers like a loaded gun
We're the band that other bands run from

Doin' the backstage boogie is where you'll find me
If you want some of that flash a pass, come back
And lay it on me

Lay it on me, baby you got
Lay it on me
Uhh, just lay it on me
Lay it on me

Now, people always say I ain't livin' right
But it ain't my fault you misplaced your light
Replaced your wife with some 2 bit missy
Now she's gettin' fucked up in Detroit city

Kickin' with the hippies, bikers, thugs
Hit me with a micky, fast women and drugs
1 love, for 2 minutes a 3rd minute I'm gone
Wake me up to eat around the crack of dawn

I'm makin' pancakes baby, if ya crack the eggs
You'll feel the Iris Tornado when you spread your legs
No need to bag and don't trail behind me
Just step up front a little lady and lay it on me

Lay it on me
Lay it on me
Just lay it on me
Lay it on me

Here we go, let's, let's jam

We're comin', we're comin', we're comin'
Live from Detroit it's Saturday night
Got the funky fresh rhyme, no beat to bite

And to y'll hee haws who thought I'd never rank
I'm goin' hahaha all the way to the bank, bitch
I got rich off a keepin' it real
While you Radioheads are reinventin' the wheel

Got critics all trippin' off I don't know what
While I'm sippin' King Louie not givin' a fuck
Trash me in the news, give me wack reviews
But you'll never find another who can fill my shoes

Who can roll the blues, who can rock the rap
Who can rock, who can roll, who can flow like that

Uhh, black rim and a pocket full of phone numbers
From Pam Anderson to Suzanne Summers
Understand, I want peace like Gandhi
But until that day I'ma walk this way so

Lay it on me, I'm talkin' all night long
Lay it on me like a bang a gong
Lay it on me with AC/DC on
From hells bells to the next 9 songs

Lay it on me, I can love you like that
Lay it on me, I'd rather fuck to Foghat
Lay it on me, yeah I can make you shake
Slow ride it baby through the piano break, come on

So step up front little lady
Lay it on me, come on lay it on
Lay it on me, got to lay it on
Lay it on me, yeah, yeah

Oh, lay it on me
You gotta 1, 2, 3 give it up

Lay it on me
Lay it on me
Lay it on me
...

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9d2dc346697a5a78d03e49e34da94588

Tear It Off - Lyrics - Blackout! (with Redman) - Method Man

Title: Tear It Off
Album: Blackout! (with Redman)
Artist: Method Man
Composer(s): Jerome Brailey, George Clinton, Erick Sermon, George Jr Clinton, Bootsy Collins, Clifford Smith, Philippe Wynn, Barbarella Bishop, Ronald Ford, Ricky Walters, Jason Hunter, Walter Morrison, Garry Shider, Linda Shider, Reggie Noble

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

Lyric:
Yo man glorious
This is protected
By the Red
And Tical

Slap it down
Way out of bounds
Throw in your towels
Fo' we gun down

Yo, flipmode, toilet bowls explode
When Doc come drop a shit load
Grip fo's
Mushrooms, did those

Deep pistol
Whip hoes
I bitch O's
Money, roll, I stick a zip code

Tiptoed, before Doc hit skid row
Thirsty, sniffin' out a pig nose
My Benz built with wings and 6-0's
My flows is North Pole cold

My hands got area's that fits snow
Doc, fixin' hoes in disco's
My dogs let 'em walk with ripped clothes
Shows, niggas pack 6 rolls

We're losin' 'em
His hart won't get pulse
Pack you bags off a 10 percent doze
I could hum and shit cold

Yo, yo tear the roof off
Yo, yo tear the roof off
Back off, don't make me shoot y'all
You don't want to fuck with us, you don't

I get scanned, rip sand
With this stick style
Pistol, lick ground
Get off my dick now

Kick crowd, hot style
You-get-shot-style
Timid, scared to get in it
These dogs is rock rowd

Unchained, untained, you know my name
Act strange, pack flame
It's not a game
Just ill flows, that kills shows

You can feel yo
Kickin' in you do', like a steel toe for real do'
Y'all gon' learn I spit germs
When you come showin' on Big Worm

You gets burned
Punks don't get turned, they get done
And get sun, come get some
The last victim lye in a ditch

Now who wanna fuck with Hot Nick
Niggas chew gum with they ass and pop shit
Me and Funk Doc get, toxic
A bowl of rice and some chopsticks
Go make your Wu just imposters

Yo, yo tear the roof off
Yo, yo tear the roof off
Back off, don't make me shoot y'all
You don't want to fuck with us, you don't

You try to O.K Corel
With Doc and Methical
Bar saloon fight without weapons out
Strechmarks like Belly on Kevin Lous

One yard to score, only second down
Hoes play wifey, wanna settle down
Try to lock cash, bitch better bounce
Boyfriend jumpin', Meth shut 'em down

Pound to echo loud, bout 7 miles
Doc, dirty Jersey, hunt 'em down
Uncut rhymes, won't even fit your foul
Baddest man out the bunch, pick 'em out

Drunk with a gun, miss you hit the crowd
Snitches, someone kiss to stitch you mouth
Wilder then rhinos or liquor trous
Mrs. how Mary-Ann, dig 'em out

Ginger watch with the gun and skip a mouth
Love the ruckas and love to dish it out
3 watched MC's, start wristin' out
Get your whole camp put on the missile foul
Pushin' 12 out, bumpin' digital

Yo, yo tear the roof off
Yo, yo tear the roof off
Back off, don't make me shoot y'all
You don't want to fuck with us, you don't

Method Man
We just ice
Men of mice, ain't nothing nice
Redman

Fuck your life
Method Man
Your tight, just light to fight
We move right, on fright night

When niggas right
We bust pipe, condo's that suck tight
We all right, you all hype and war's right
In the source, with half mic, you half life

And half dead, blasted on glass bed
I'm past dead, eyes red, the hash head
Burn somethin', earn somethin' and learn somethin'
Take my turn frontin'

Def Jam ain't heard nothin' yet
Suspect, ruff necks
Buck 'em down or you get busted
Never leave home without my muskett

Trust this, out for justice, clown
And caught on Judgment Day, call Joe Brown
Take MC's to town if they start blawn
Ashes to ashes, they all fall down

Master these bastards with hazardous tactics
Semi automatic full rap metal jacket
Blasted in plastic your brain on the mattress
All you kids is ass backwards and visa versa

Yo, yo tear the roof off
Yo, yo tear the roof off
Back off, don't make me shoot y'all
You don't want to fuck with us, you don't

Come on, yo tear the roof off
Nigga, yo tear the roof off
Back off, don't make me shoot y'all
You don't want to fuck with us, you don't

Huh
Yo, you don't want to fuck with us
You don't
Yo, You don't want to fuck with us
You don't

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5efc6ec53eb2144cde5f4898aa7d4b01

Check 1, 2 - Lyrics - Out Of Business - Epmd

Title: Check 1, 2
Album: Out Of Business
Artist: Epmd
Composer(s): Erick Sermon, Parrish Smith, Angel Aguilar

Lyric:
EPMD, Def Jam blazin'
Check it, uhh, huh, yo

It's E-Dub on the microphone
My style be Elektra, I'm the male Syl Rhome
Homes, walk around with forty-four chrome
On safety, spike the mic in the end zone

This here ain't the average shit, you used to front
And automatic rounds will shoot you
So knock it off, like Biggie Smalls said
"Duke, you soft, why you wanna fuck with the boss?"

Where should I start? Breakin MCs or shatterin' charts?
It's Diablo, PMD, Mic Doc with the purple heart
The go-getter, getter, get wit 'er, hit 'er, split 'er
Front and back and if she wit it, straight in the shitter

So Heidi, Heidi, Heidi, hydro, pack gats and ammo
[Unverified]
With more cheese than Lambeau, more heat than Rambo
Break down, dismantle, when I scramble

I just get down and I go for mines
Say check 1, 2 and run down the line
Inclined to shine with techs and forty-four mags and nines
Don't get too close because you might get shot

I just get down and I go for mines
Say check 1, 2 and run down the line
Inclined to shine with techs and forty-four mags and nines
Don't get too close because you might get shot

Uhh, yo, hey and yo!
EPMD fuckin' with us is bad news
Me and you got different views
What you might say is dope, I say's not
What I might call wack, you'll call hot

The best thing for you is to think and hope
Or get choked and hung with the velvet rope
'Cause you too theatrical, mess around
And end up smackin' you, jackin' you, attackin' you

That's why it's crucial, so stay neutral to collect the cash
Double beaucoup, just rippin' up mics is what my crew do
Whatever suits you, pull out the burner, fuck the shoot through
Roadblocks and smear campaigns with the two-two

Or tech nine that'll chew through your waistline
I'm accurate, don't waste mine, spit on bassline
Run with the unseen potential to be on Dateline
I don't fake mine, you blaze crazy while I pace mine

Yeah, now why y'all wanna mess with the vets?
We've been doin' this shit since [unverified]
I make shit that make you wanna smack your producer
And ice grill him and make you wanna kill him dead

And walk around leakin' in the bed for the weekend
For playin' with the last Mohican
[Unverified], that's fuck you in Puerto Rican
Keep quiet when you hear grown men speakin'

Or get smacked, this ain't no game, the shit is serious
Delerious, that's how we leave cats and niggaz curious
The true legend got caught, shit, you better call Kevin
Big like Dog 40 and the Dutch from the 7-11

I'm danger like Norris, the Texas ranger
The mic strangler, PMD, the fuckin' head banger
Mo' skills fo' real for them cats that kill
Pump a nine on the reg behind penetentiary steel

I just get down and I go for mines
Say check 1, 2 and run down the line
Inclined to shine with techs and forty-four mags and nines
Don't get too close because you might get shot

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23e4495b4973a08fda68ee3ec1f3bfb7

Generation Efx - Lyrics - Das Efx

Title: Generation Efx
Artist: Das Efx
Composer(s): Angel Aguilar, Willie Hines, James Peterik, Eric Sermon, Parrish Smith, Frank Sullivan, Andre Weston

Lyric:
Biggidee back from vacation
Here to rock the whole nation
Diggie Das EPMD invasion

Down diffa don down diffa do wiggidee one two
Till we do wiggidee rock the Fubu
The official launch the missile

Blow the whistle at the art official
Miggidee mix sure to South Central
Forget you like amnesia biggidee 'bove the reefa
Cheap but Das came to please ya

Take the Bever, now we back, son, tougher action
Zoom Das, zoom Das, satisfaction
Biggidee back pop popular, hip hoppin' 'em
The Hit Squad, Def Squad still rockin' 'em

It's every time we rock a bomb, we get ya mind open
The mic's blazin', smokin', he was chokin'
We don't remove walls, boom Docks, plus the sua
We bring it to ya, we nightmare like Freddy Krueger

So call me drama, trauma, slash comma, no one to bomba
E-tracks like [Incomprehensible] from Def Jam
The East West check my street breath, no weak steps
Or rest with the [Incomprehensible] check my repetoir

Mangin' on the reservoir, I'm eatin' caviar
Ey, yo, I'm really try to do this far
EPMD and Das Efx cold blazin' it, no face in it
Got the whole world chasin' it, the scream show up

Never rock you like my boa, the ill flow up
Came back 'cause we knowed ya, another go' round
Grab the mic, put the flow down, you court mo'
G minus 7, we 'bout to bring now

Represent my generation
Here we go, all we wanna do is flow
All we know is get the dough
Represent my generation
Here we go, all we wanna do is flow
All we know is get the dough

Diggidee, yes, yes, yo, to the beat yo
No matter what the game, before you walk you got to crawl
Long term plannin', I make ya bounce like a Mars, line affects candy
And let the music play like zany

And feeds your eyes and what you never thought you see again
Diggidee Das and nigga the EPMD again
Ask the mildest skill, we built to puff trees
And with ya now Hit Squad, Kansas, the Diggidee suck D's

All my niggaz squeeze, jiggaz get hot, we freeze
Niggaz in the street keep figgaz, can't fuck with these niggaz
Show stop us, we off the Baileys and the ruckus
Dread not a rasta, I'll be back Asta

What the deal is, son, ain't this some shit?
Caps frontin' for I even come out this bitch
You forget who we are? Recognize, we spark the Benz
Then split the game to the kids

Now you wanna act like my crew, never happen
I've payed the way for rappin', last era
You can say what you want, I sit back and front
The money, the jewels, the hoe, clothes, you know

Friends and fools can tell ya so about the lyrical, spiritual
More it's the miracle, fly individual
EPMD and Das Efx might checkin' it
Side checkin' it

Represent my generation
Here we go, all we wanna do is flow
All we know is get the dough
Represent my generation
Here we go, all we wanna do is flow
All we know is get the dough

Represent my generation
Here we go, all we wanna do is flow
All we know is get the dough
Represent my generation
Here we go, all we wanna do is flow
All we know is get the dough

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Take It To The Lord - Lyrics - Nu Thang - Dc Talk

Title: Take It To The Lord
Album: Nu Thang
Artist: Dc Talk
Composer(s): Kevin Max Smith, Toby Mc Keehan, Michael Tait

Lyric:
Aw, are we goin' back for this one now?
Aah, the dc gogo jam, oh gettin' busy with dc talk, get out

Now when you?re down and feelin? out
I know ya take it to the Lord
But those times when ya got the clout
Do you take it to the Lord?

When you?re outta cash and ya rent is due
I know ya take it to the Lord
But when you?re livin? large and you got the juice
Do ya take it to the mighty Lord?

Take it to the Lord, take take take
Who you take it to?
Take it to the Lord y?all
You gotta take it to the Lord

Take it to the Lord, take take take
Who you take it to?
Take it to the Lord y?all
You gotta take it to the mighty Lord

You tend to take it to God when your losin? grip
You got Christ in your heart, but ya livin? a trip
I mean, when ya got trouble, ya call his name
But everybody prays when it comes to pain

Or when you?re feelin? down and you need a burst
Say a short prayer, read a Bible verse
And then expect my Father to honor that
Yo the life that your livin? is straight up wack, you gotta

Take it to the Lord, take take take
Who you take it to?
Take it to the Lord y?all
You gotta take it to the Lord

Take it to the Lord, take take take
Who you take it to?
Take it to the Lord y?all
You gotta take it to the mighty Lord

Now this song ain?t to dis your name
And it sure ain?t to get me fame
I just gotta explain that it ain?t no game
Call Him when you need him, then forget the name

Yo that?s lame and I will proclaim
Stop usin? God for your personal gain
'Cause in the end, you?ll be left to hang boy
Check the word, it?ll tell you the same, you gotta

Take it to the Lord, take take take
Who you take it to?
Take it to the Lord y?all
We gotta take it to the Lord

Take it to the Lord, take take take
Who you take it to?
Take it to the Lord y?all
We gotta take it to the mighty Lord

You need to take it to God on the regular tip
When things go right, it seems that you forget
That He wants your attention, He wants your praise
Unsituational, regardless of days

It?s a 24-7 type a sich at hand
Based upon grace, God?s love for man
And He?s ready and waitin?, arms open wide
So take it to God, 'cause He?s on your side, you gotta

Take it to the Lord, take take take
Who you take it to?
Take it to the Lord y?all
We gotta take it to the Lord, yeah

Take it to the Lord, take take take
Who you take it to?
Take it to the Lord y?all
We gotta take it to the Lord, yeah

Take it to the Lord, take take take
Who you take it to?
Take it to the Lord y?all
We gotta take it to the Lord

Take it to the Lord, take take take
Who you take it to?
Take it to the Lord y?all
We gotta take it to the mighty Lord

When you?re down and feelin? out
Who you take it to?
Even when you?ve got the clout you need to
Take it to the Lord

When you?re out of cash, and your rent is due
Who you take it to?
When you?re livin? large and you?ve got the juice
Do you take it to the mighty Lord?

Who you take it to, who you take it to, who you take it to?
Dc in the house
Who you take it to, who you take it to, who you take it to?
You got to take it to the Lord

Who you take it to, who you take it to, who you take it to?
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Who you take it to, who you take it to, who you take it to?
Dc in the house

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8f93eda4fa614daa0d818b340a5eb3a6

Ghetto Bass Ii - Lyrics - Move Somthin' - 2 Live Crew

Title: Ghetto Bass Ii
Album: Move Somthin'
Artist: 2 Live Crew
Composer(s): Mark Ross, Christopher Wong Won, Luther Campbell, David Hobbs

Lyric:
Ghetto style Dee-Jays
Don't touch that stereo
Ghetto bass, Ghetto bass
Ghetto bass, Ghetto bass

What's up, party people, we're back again
Bringin' you the message from some of our friends
They're the funkiest crew from the heart of the city
When the amps are on, they'll take no pity

'Cause Ghetto has the style that has the girls jockin'
When you talk about the system, all you say is, "Rockin'"
Others hear the name, they scream out loud
'Cause they are known to move the crowd

When you hear the sound, they'll stop and wonder
Then gaze upon the speaker, the wall of thunder
Standin' on the ground, 3 stories high
The deepest bass and the real fresh high

So step off your throne, they're on the loose
The DJ's from Miami with all the juice
So consider yourself warned, they're back on the case
It's Luke Skywalker and the Ghetto Style Bass

Ghetto, get up
Ghetto, get up
Ghetto, get up
Ghetto, get up

Ghetto, get up
Ghetto, get up
Ghetto, get up
Ghetto, get up

To some, 'Ghetto' is a name, to others a tradition
In the city of boom, there can never be an addition
Of any of the DJ's to rock the land
Like the ones from the city and the boys from Pac-Jam

Handsome Harry, you know the brother was strong
He ain't dared any man to get him wrong
L.A. Jay, this young brother doesn't play
He'll strong-arm any sucker who gets in his way

Baby Ced, Liberty City born and bred
Always known for the knowledge and sense of the head
Disco Gene, he's reunited with the team
He was gone for a while but back in the swing of things

Amazing Chico, a king to his trade
Known as Bernie B. on 9-1-7 Bass
And G.I. Joe, who has the girls by the row
He always gets cased 'cause his game is gettin' slow

And last but not least, marvelous J.P.
And we can't forget Cisco, we're glad you are free
So one day to your kids you will tell the story
Of how the Ghetto Style DJ's achieved their glory

Ghetto bass, Ghetto bass
Ghetto bass, Ghetto bass
Ghetto bass, Ghetto bass
Ghetto bass, Ghetto bass

Ghetto bass, Ghetto bass
Ghetto bass, Ghetto bass
Ghetto bass, Ghetto bass
Ghetto bass, Ghetto bass

Look out everybody
Look out everybody
'Cause they're in the place
It's Luke Skywalker and the Ghetto Bass

Ghetto bass, Ghetto bass
Ghetto bass

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0381a12d4b71551bd9fcdc627449e5b5