A Real Good Place To Start - Lyrics - Carrying Your Love with Me - George Strait

Title: A Real Good Place To Start
Album: Carrying Your Love with Me
Artist: George Strait
Composer(s): Dean Dillon, Gary Nicholson

Lyric:
Still reelin' from a relationship that left me torn in two
Tryin' to find that first step that leads to someone new
Gettin' me back together, didn't know it could be so hard
But if I'm ever gonna mend this broken heart
You look like a real good place to start

I need a new beginning and girl you fit right in
Sometimes a new beginning is found in an old friend
If I'm ever gonna mend this broken heart
You look like a real good place to start

There've been times when you and him just couldn't get along
I'd hear your knock and let you in, be your shoulder to cry on
And now he's finally left you, and I find you in my arms
If I'm ever gonna mend this broken heart
You look like a real good place to start

I need a new beginning and girl you fit right in
Sometimes a new beginning is found in an old friend
And if I'm ever gonna mend this broken heart
You look like a real good place to start
And if I'm ever gonna mend this broken heart
You look like a real good place to start

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7c57cfeb35ee2b2de609f102475b8e9f

Good, Good - Lyrics - Cool Breeze

Title: Good, Good
Artist: Cool Breeze
Composer(s): Patrick Brown, Frederick Bell, Raymond Murray, Rico Wade

Lyric:
Hey, I remember when I came, came
I didn't have to ask nobody in the streets
To scream my name, name
'Cause we got a lock on this whole city
And got a key to the Dirty South
And the South coast, now play with me

So bring your semi thirty, art thirty
If you put your hands on a Calhoun player
It's gon' get dirty, dirty
And everybody trying to claim boss
But that's just talk
You don't really wanna turn these mics off

They trying to slick us with our own slang
Using our words like back and forth
Just calling us up out our name
See and for that they gonna pay, pay
Everything they did in one week, I'ma do in one day

You can say that it's about to start
Don't call us rappers
'Cause nowadays a rapper ain't considered smart
So I just stay away from those haters
And anybody in my clique who roll with me, you a creator

So it's like, who do you believe in?
Just like the hustler came back once
The clock is gon' strike twelve again
And I'm most requested in my old hood
From Martel to Springdale and all through Club Candlewood

You can ask Cool Cane or Dre-High
Either Po-boy, Dirty Red, or they gon' cut? I'm fire, fire
And they consider me that raw, raw
And your partners where you represent
They say you got that flaw, flaw

And Cool Breeze, he got that hard, hard
And ain't nobody taking nothing
And don't want nothing to start, start
So when I'm riding through the hood, hood
They respect me when they see me
'Cause they know I got that good, good

That's right, we got that good, good
From every street to every borough
And back to every hood, hood
That's right, we got that good, good
From every street to every borough
And back to every hood, hood

That's right, we got that good, good
From every street to every borough
And back to every hood, hood
That's right, we got that good, good
From every street to every borough
And back to every hood, hood

And can't nobody touch my team, team
Just like EJ from Southwest ATL
My partner got that green, green
And we gon' come through kicking the most game
Taking fo' sho' routes and pointing out the lane, lanes

So when you come and you ride through
It won't be no mystery, who everybody listening to
That's right 'cause all we do is stack, stack
And Organize this Noize and everybody know that

Plus we testing out this new sound
Everybody done put down
Now we breaking up some new ground
'Cause we serve 'em up that real, real
And be forever Dirty South in this place we live, live

That's what make the brothers hawk, hawk
Trying to step up and showcase
All that is is talk, talk
See Cool Breeze, he ain't your fool, fool
So don't ask me no questions
Like what makes me so cool, cool

They'd rather see me in the Chain Gang
Than rolling a V-12, riding on them thang, thangs
I get respect out to Alabama
To the West Coast to the East
Then right back to Atlanta

And that's how we keep it tight, tight
I come through busting the door first
Then we ship it out the same night
So when I'm riding through the hood, hood
They respect me when they see me
'Cause they know I got that good, good

That's right, we got that good, good
From every street to every borough
And back to every hood, hood
That's right, we got that good, good
From every street to every borough
And back to every hood, hood

That's right, we got that good, good
From every street to every borough
And back to every hood, hood
That's right, we got that good, good
From every street to every borough
And back to every hood, hood

That's right, we got that good, good
From every street to every borough
And back to every hood, hood
That's right, we got that good, good
From every street to every borough
And back to every hood, hood

That's right, we got that good, good
From every street to every borough
And back to every hood, hood
That's right, we got that good, good
From every street to every borough
And back to every hood, hood

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6117dccf872e8cac32175224d3c8735f

Like A Pimp (Remix) - Lyrics - David Banner

Title: Like A Pimp (Remix)
Artist: David Banner
Composer(s): Chad Butler, L D B Crump, Wesley Weston, Barry White, Bernard Freeman

Lyric:
David Banner

By the time I done got up in the do'
All I wanna see is phatty drop to the flo'
Come and bump it for the balla' name twist'
While I sit in VIP poppin' Cris' and Mo'
Come and kick it with the playa' that get the ass
And the cash by the incredible bulk
Sippin' Hipnotiq and Hennessy
Yeah we call it Incredible Hulk 'cause I gotta' get that butt,
When I'm up in the club, jackin' booties 'til the mornin'
Thinkin' bout it bonnin', realizing, realizing, that I am zonin'

'Cause the guls here look so good
Somebody need to put them in a magazine, and a
My homies got it from the front to the back
With they straps and they magazines
And a baby show me how you do that roll
Make it jump and jiggle 'cause yo' booty swoll
Come over here show me how you pop it and drop it
You know I love when you work that good dick hoe
Get it crunk it's a kinky thing
Baby gul' let me see you fold up your legs like a chicken wing
Figure how you do those kinky things
Slex it if it's a Chi-town head this Mississippi thang

Cars, got to do it, clothes, got to do it
Ice, got to do it, gul' put yo' booty and get yo' back into it
Put a David Banner crack into it, and I bet your system gon' beat
And this is how the Twista spit it to the remix for these freaks

Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Like a pimp
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Like a pimp

Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Like a pimp
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Like a pimp

All my ladies say,"Oww"
My female pimps the way that you hit the flo'
And makes a sista' pay cash
Bring it back to daddy can you work that ass out, you know me
It's the M I crooked letter, crooked letter, I
Crooked letter crooked letter, I
Hump yo' back, hump yo' back, I
All my gang bangin' dope slangers throw it up, high

Sets up, you could come to the south talkin' smack and get so wet up
Screamin', "Where's my girl?"
Don't worry buddy, she here with us, shakin' and poppin'
Droppin' real slow but she ain't stoppin' nothin' man
She came to get down for the clique
We got cash so we screamin' out "Shake somethin' bitch"
This is yo' song, let me see your dirty thong
David Banner, Mississippi tell them boys that it's on
(Tell them boys that it's on)

Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Like a pimp
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Like a pimp

Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Like a pimp
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Like a pimp

Y'all know who it is, better believe it's Busta Rhymes
So start runnin' around my nigga
I'm bustin' nigga heads
Instead fill them with lead you better chill
When my runners around, my nigga
I got a lot of bitches playin' with each other in a hotel room
While they rollin' around my nigga
'Cause everytime we in a place every nigga know
Flip Mode gotta' be holdin' it down my nigga

Sick, with a little dro', sick, with a little dough
Sick, with a little flow make you love it a lot
Quick 'cause I gotta' do it and I gotta' rep for the rich
And the little po nigga tuggin' the block
Chicks in the mink sit in the back seat
When I'm on a strip and I roll in the drop
Sip a little bit of yac dip a little
When I whip the Cadillac truck throwing the glock
And we gotta' put it down and

Keep it pimpin' 'til they cannot deny
Just grab yo' bottles and keep sippin', throw your hands in the sky
All of my, people, keep it, goin'
You little sucka' nigga tryna keep it a secret but we blowin' you up
Better get a better grip if you ain't know
That we only messin' with the hoes
Better know wassup, better pour a little yac in my glass
While I'm watchin' my hoes just like a pimp when I'm holdin' my cup
Now watch me pour just a little bit of yac out for my homies
Throw it back out, with a little shorty
Blow her back out, like a pimp, playa

Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'

Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'

Like a pimp

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640ecd0b7efc18792d576b3a38fee9d0

Mind Sex - Lyrics - Dead Prez

Title: Mind Sex
Artist: Dead Prez
Composer(s): L Alford, C Gavin, A Oyewole

Lyric:
It's time for some mind sex, we ain't got to take our clothes off yet
We can burn the incense, and just chat
Relax, I got the good vibrations
Before we make love, let's have a good conversation

Pardon me love, but you seem like my type
What you doin' tonight? You should stop by the site
We could roll some weed, play some records and talk
I got a fly spot downtown Brooklyn, New York

Now I know, you think I wanna fuck, no doubt
But tonight we'll try a different route, how 'bout we start
With a salad, a fresh bed of lettuce with croutons
Later we can play a game of chess on the futon

See I ain't got to get in your blouse
It's your eye contact that be getting me aroused
When you show me your mind, it makes me wanna show you mines
Reflecting my light, when it shines, just takin' our time

Before the night's through, we could get physical too
I ain't tryin' to say I don't wanna fuck, 'cause I do
But for me boo, makin' love is just as much mental
I like to know what I'm gettin' into

We could have mind sex, we ain't got to take our clothes off yet
We can burn the incense, and just chat
Relax, I got the good vibrations
Before we make love, let's have a good conversation

It's time for some mind sex, we ain't got to take our clothes off yet
We can burn the incense, and just chat
Relax, I got the good vibrations
Before we make love, let's have a good conversation
Time for some mind sex

Before we make love
Yeah, what you know about mind sex?
Before we make love

African princess, tell me yo' interests
Wait, let me guess boo, you probably like poetry
Here's a little something I jotted down in case I spotted you around
So let me take this opportunity

Would you share a moment with me, over herbal tea?
Take a walk verbally, make a bond certainly
'Cause in my hand I bet your hand fit perfectly
And it's like we floatin' out in space when you flirtin' wit me

C'mon, a little foreplay don't hurt
Imagine my chest under this shirt, your ass under your skirt
It's like walking the hot sands and finding an oasis
Opposites attract that's the basis

Our sex is the wind that separates the yin from the yang
The balance that means complete change, our aim
Is to touch you in a delicate spot
And once we get it started I ain't trying to stop

But first we have mind sex, we ain't got to take our clothes off yet
We can burn the incense, and just chat
Relax, I got the good vibrations
Before we make love, let's have a good conversation

It's time for some mind sex, we ain't got to take our clothes off yet
We can burn the incense, and just chat
Relax, I got the good vibrations
Before we make love, let's have a good conversation
Mind sex

She smiles, I smile
She walks, no she glides softly by me changing night into day
She opens her mouth to speak, and so sounds ring in my head
She speaks, and I want to dance to her rhythm

She moves ever so gently, increasing my desires
As I place my arms around her waist, hold and squeeze unto me
I want to melt into her body, and discover the base of her warmth
Her beautiful black body that, no human mind could ever conceive

She's love, she's truth
She's real, as real as the stars that shine in the heavens
As real as the sun that bathes her body
As real as the moon that glows and the birds that sing and the rose

That blossoms in spring for she is that rose
And not just any rose, but a black rose
Black rose stands tall and stronger than any other plant
A black rose, that stands as creator, of nations of black rose

That never loses her petals, and blossoms all year round
Black rose, sweet rose, thornless rose, eternal rose
Please look my way, please look my way
Please look my way, black rose

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8795ca9530c5d8754473cb9128b3fe95

Like A Pimp - Lyrics - MTA2: Baptized In Dirty Water - David Banner

Title: Like A Pimp
Album: MTA2: Baptized In Dirty Water
Artist: David Banner
Composer(s): Chad Butler, L D B Crump, Wesley Weston, Barry White, Bernard Freeman

Lyric:
David Banner

By the time I done got up in the do'
All I wanna see is phatty drop to the flo'
Come and bump it for the balla' name twist'
While I sit in VIP poppin' Cris' and Mo'
Come and kick it with the playa' that get the ass
And the cash by the incredible bulk
Sippin' Hipnotiq and Hennessy
Yeah we call it Incredible Hulk 'cause I gotta' get that butt,
When I'm up in the club, jackin' booties 'til the mornin'
Thinkin' bout it bonnin', realizing, realizing, that I am zonin'

'Cause the guls here look so good
Somebody need to put them in a magazine, and a
My homies got it from the front to the back
With they straps and they magazines
And a baby show me how you do that roll
Make it jump and jiggle 'cause yo' booty swoll
Come over here show me how you pop it and drop it
You know I love when you work that good dick hoe
Get it crunk it's a kinky thing
Baby gul' let me see you fold up your legs like a chicken wing
Figure how you do those kinky things
Slex it if it's a Chi-town head this Mississippi thang

Cars, got to do it, clothes, got to do it
Ice, got to do it, gul' put yo' booty and get yo' back into it
Put a David Banner crack into it, and I bet your system gon' beat
And this is how the Twista spit it to the remix for these freaks

Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Like a pimp
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Like a pimp

Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Like a pimp
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Like a pimp

All my ladies say,"Oww"
My female pimps the way that you hit the flo'
And makes a sista' pay cash
Bring it back to daddy can you work that ass out, you know me
It's the M I crooked letter, crooked letter, I
Crooked letter crooked letter, I
Hump yo' back, hump yo' back, I
All my gang bangin' dope slangers throw it up, high

Sets up, you could come to the south talkin' smack and get so wet up
Screamin', "Where's my girl?"
Don't worry buddy, she here with us, shakin' and poppin'
Droppin' real slow but she ain't stoppin' nothin' man
She came to get down for the clique
We got cash so we screamin' out "Shake somethin' bitch"
This is yo' song, let me see your dirty thong
David Banner, Mississippi tell them boys that it's on
(Tell them boys that it's on)

Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Like a pimp
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Like a pimp

Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Like a pimp
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Like a pimp

Y'all know who it is, better believe it's Busta Rhymes
So start runnin' around my nigga
I'm bustin' nigga heads
Instead fill them with lead you better chill
When my runners around, my nigga
I got a lot of bitches playin' with each other in a hotel room
While they rollin' around my nigga
'Cause everytime we in a place every nigga know
Flip Mode gotta' be holdin' it down my nigga

Sick, with a little dro', sick, with a little dough
Sick, with a little flow make you love it a lot
Quick 'cause I gotta' do it and I gotta' rep for the rich
And the little po nigga tuggin' the block
Chicks in the mink sit in the back seat
When I'm on a strip and I roll in the drop
Sip a little bit of yac dip a little
When I whip the Cadillac truck throwing the glock
And we gotta' put it down and

Keep it pimpin' 'til they cannot deny
Just grab yo' bottles and keep sippin', throw your hands in the sky
All of my, people, keep it, goin'
You little sucka' nigga tryna keep it a secret but we blowin' you up
Better get a better grip if you ain't know
That we only messin' with the hoes
Better know wassup, better pour a little yac in my glass
While I'm watchin' my hoes just like a pimp when I'm holdin' my cup
Now watch me pour just a little bit of yac out for my homies
Throw it back out, with a little shorty
Blow her back out, like a pimp, playa

Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'

Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'
Real girls get down on the flo' on the flo'

Like a pimp

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c9559ee4838c1a46e354bb158fa1e930

10 Wayz - Lyrics - I Got That Work - Big Tymers

Title: 10 Wayz
Album: I Got That Work
Artist: Big Tymers
Composer(s): Byron Thomas, Bryan Williams

Lyric:
Turn it up
Turn it up
Turn it up

10 wayz to a G
Three situations, pay attention to me

10 wayz to a G
Three situations, pay attention to me

Yeah, yeah
Ten
First, ya gotta go get the chips
Scope out the section, tell 'em, "Go get the bricks"
Nine
Then ya gotta find a place to meet
You better bring your heat 'cuz them villains ain't sweet

Eight
Ya better let your chick drop to get 'em
And follow that broad to make sure them people not with 'em
Seven
Don't bring [unverified] around your house
'Cuz you don't want that heat pepper nowhere 'round your house
Six
See how it come back before you start
And if it come short bring back everything you bought

Five
Wait, if lil' daddy on the street
Cut the cake, hit the hood the next day about eight
Four
And if you can't move it all, call your dog
Jam him up, and tell him, "Fool, me and you about to ball"
Three
Split it up, four quarters-a-piece
And if y'all do that everyday, that's fifty-six-a-week

Two
When the money start comin', keep sellin'
Don't buy nothin' special unless you got good credit
One
Make sure you put some money aside
And in a month call the man and tell him, "Bring a extra five"

10 wayz to a G
Two situations, pay attention to me

10 wayz to a G
Two situations, pay attention to me

Ten
Gotta floss everyday of my life
Forget the price, get the ice, hit the club every night
Nine
Buy the ball, let 'em know you a star
When everybody come outside to see the dubs on your car
Eight
They gon' hate, so keep that tool
Scratch off and holler out the window, "Boy, I'm a fool"

Seven
When ya meet, take a broad to plug
And make sure that chic was the baddest broad in the club
Six
Lay it down when you're comin' around, bumpin' the sound
Got the truck touchin' the ground
Five
2000 Range Rover, you see
Leather, wood, television all over it, B

Four
Watch bracelet, wodie, shop daily
Everything them wannabe's got, I played it
Three
Two dice on the block, keep it real
Bet the house that's about two-point-five-mill

Two
Keep cheddar, what you got, I can match it
Ride everything chrome, rock everything platinum
One
Keep shinin' 'til it burn me out
But never ever let the money, baby, turn me out

10 wayz to a G
One situation, pay attention to me

10 wayz to a G
One situation, pay attention to me

Ten
Tell a broad, "Everything for free
You can shop 'til you drop, shorty, all on me"
Nine
Number ten ain't nothin' but a lie
Don't buy the broad nothin', and I'm 'bout to tell you why
Eight
Sell the skank a dream bigger than life
And she gon' stick around for the shoppin' spree, alright

Seven
Tell your broad you know me, and we jam tight
And you like what I like, and you gon' be alright tonight
Six
Nine times outta ten I went out with the broad you with
But that shouldn't stop you from doin' what you do, slick
Five
Then turn to her, tell her you love her, and don't laugh
And if I had a penny, baby, then you got half

Four
What's yours is mine, and what's mine is yurn
And you got it right now and that'll leave a-thousand dollars
To my tax return
Three
At this point, if you love me, you'll make my fantasies come true
And if she say, "What it is?" To sleep with your sister and you

Two
Don't love these [unverified], love yourself
And if you pay attention to this you'll have plenty of wealth
One
I'm done, and I ain't got nothin' else to say
'Cuz I can't think of nothin' to rhyme with this shh
Y'all have a nice day

10 wayz to a G
Good night, everybody
10 wayz to a G
Yeah, yeah, yeah
10 wayz to a G

What?
What?
Now looky here
10 wayz to a G

I gave you three situations and ten ways to deal with it
You see what I'm sayin'
If you apply that to your everyday life
Whether you slingin', you dig ballin' or playin' on broads
You, too, can be scraped
I said scraped, that's right, scraped
See what I'm sayin' and these [unverified]
I mean, we gotta get together, marry yourself, man
'Cuz ain't nobody gon' care 'bout yourself but yourself

Know what I'm sayin'
Go marry yourself, go on a honeymoon, treat yourself
I mean, 'cuz can't nobody cheat on thyself
You gon' be with yourself, but you can't cheat on yourself
You know what I'm sayin'
Man, that's ballerrific, stuntastic
And I like to say one more time, good night, mmm, hmm
And tell myself, "Self, I am so infatuated with you"

Hey, thank you
I'm infatuated with you, too
Good night, self
Good night, good night, Mannie
I love you

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f10df7eeedc6b79d88f9ea14bea80b75

If You Can Do Anything Else - Lyrics - George Strait

Title: If You Can Do Anything Else
Artist: George Strait
Composer(s): Billy Livsey, Don Schlitz

Lyric:
Would you like to live in Houston
Where the cowboys come to town
Or maybe Pensacola
Where the sun shines all year 'round

Or even New York City
Where the city never sleeps
I'm offering you the option
Before you get in too deep

If you can do anything else
Baby, be good to yourself
You can find a nice place, have a good life
Don't worry 'bout me, I'm gonna be alright

You can make a new start
You can see yourself clear
If you can do anything else, do it
But if you can't, baby, you can you stay right here

There's work up in Seattle
If you don't mind the rain
San Diego to Savannah
They'd all be glad you came

But life with me would always be
A roller coaster ride
You won't hurt my feelings
Whatever you decide

If you can do anything else
Baby, be good to yourself
You can find a nice place, have a good life
Don't worry 'bout me, I'm gonna be alright

You can make a new start
You can see yourself clear
If you can do anything else, do it
But if you can't, baby, you can you stay right here

This place might look real good right now
But lookin' good don't last
But if you choose it, anyhow
I'll give you all I have

If you can do anything else
Baby, be good to yourself
You can find a nice place, have a good life
Don't worry 'bout me, I'm gonna be alright

You can make a new start
You can see yourself clear
If you can do anything else, do it
But if you can't, baby, you can you stay right here

Baby, you can you stay right here
Oh baby, you can you stay right here
Baby, you can you stay right here

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9d54fd6d748a5599fef2a639d87de4ec

The Beta Band Rap - Lyrics - Beta Band

Title: The Beta Band Rap
Artist: Beta Band
Composer(s): Steve Mason, Sid Tepper, Richard Greentree, Robin Jones, Joey Levine, Layng Jr Martin, John Maclean, R C Bennett

Lyric:
We're the Beta Band and we're nice and clean
We're always polite and hardly ever mean
Times have changed, we used to be smelly
We lived in a squat 'til a punk nicked our telly

Since we've been signed we eat real good
We always wash our hands and chew our food
Quashis rotis are our favorite dish
Served spicy with chicken or fish

In the world of fashion there's two shining lights
Nancy and Caroline they helped us alright
And Gordon Anderson played a big part
Just when the Beta Band was about to start

It all started in London town
When we gave our demo to Phil Brown
Then we met Miles at Parlophone
And let him hear dogs got a bone

He said go to Falkner and put it on wax
So the next week was spent cutting four tracks
Now a manager was needed to make us complete
Miles knew a Wigner we should meet

[Incomprehensible]

His name was Dave with the broken specs
A quiet manner and enough respect
We met at Nachos and cleaned the plate
A meal like that we'd never ate

Then we met Brian and the Microdot crew
Martin, Matt and John Plat too
Adrenalin Village was the place to be
We had no money so they got us in free

The first thing Dave did as boss
Was make us play Water Rats in Kings Cross
We played five songs got credit for four
Went down well so we decided to tour

Next up was Henry and Nich
Making the show go without a hitch
Up and down the country and side to side
With big yin driving it's a bumpy ride

Miles gave us an album deal
We said yes and went for a meal
Drinking champagne at EMI
The irony almost made us cry

[Incomprehensible]

We went to Wales and fannyed around
Ended up with the Patty Patty Sound
With open minds we went to achieve
Chris Allison caught it all on Neive

He hummed and hawed and became a pest
Twittering on about the old Neive desk
We had to call in Keith and Miles
When Chris' hair got caught in the dials

We started to get known on Radio One
When Jo Whiley got a fax from my mum
Mary Ann Hobbs invited us to play
At Maida Vale we spent a day

With Chris Allison's hair cut free
It was time for Cornwall and the third EP
With a glock and a sax and a mighty gong
All we needed was a hit pop song

We thought this time we were on a good start
But they made a new rule that banned us from the chart
The songs were good so we didn't give a toss
And we called it Los Amigos Del Beta Bandidos

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0d0346f6b99da88177740f9ebadc6105

Thank You - Lyrics - Rest Is History - Jin

Title: Thank You
Album: Rest Is History
Artist: Jin
Composer(s): Jin Auyeung, Loren Lunnon

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

Lyric:
This feels good right here, just happy to be here, I mean
I gotta take a moment to thank those that made a difference
Whether small or big, damn, where should I start though?

First and foremost I gotta give praise
To the Lord above and His Almighty ways
Blessin' me with the gift to lift spirits
And evoke emotions through these words everytime you hear it

I got the lyrics and flow, I'm capable so
When I blow, just know this one's for April and Joe
Me and my little sister, we're grateful you know
Wish I could see you more Avah at the rate that you grow

My favorite uncle Franky for opening ya door
When I ain't have a place to stay, I crashed on your floor
Taught me the basic survival tools
Auntie Cathy, every summer kept me in vacation Bible school

Mr. Diskin for more than passin' grades
And my fourth grade teacher Mr. Scott who passed away
Peep how I met Kamel, corner on the street
We goin' to the top, let's do it for Shawna and Jaleek

In the beginnin', no one was on Jin's side folks
Bar and Amory, whoa Bundy that's an inside joke
Before bullshit friendships, synthetic for cream
Chilled with my wall click, Bryan, Cedric and Jean

So when I moved to NY chose to invest in a few
One love to Patricia, Ben and the rest of the crew
To be loved is a privilige, that's what I was told
A gem from my man unless more precious than gold

Infamous Joe lacin' my tatt so sick
Fong, Yungmac, and Ken down at Ho Yips
To Dee Waah Chivon and the rest of the deans
For believing in a young man obsessed with a dream

Allowin' me to write history create my own chapter
All original ryders and the generation after
The double R staff my thanks worth a million
And the whole 30th floor at the Universal buildin'

You could never walk in my shoes or stand in my boots
Know how I came up, I'll never abandon my roots
Yeah, C Rayz, Poison Pen for sharing the stage
Shouts to stronghold, tone and the rest of the plague

Ask Big Zoo, we ten steps ahead of ya
Vice versus, eye to eye, E-O dub regulars
My man J pure for bringin' the heat right
And the rest of the poets, chillin' under streetlights

Just keep the beats tight, shouts to the record spinners
Enough, felli fell and all the heavy hitters
Kubichi K Sly hold me down in L.A.
Might catch me flickin' it up with von in the bay

Then it's off to the wake up show with tech and sway
Or big nat and foot out in VA
It's damn near tradition to kick a freestyle
Anytime I'm with Eddie Francis out in Seatown

Can't forget hometeam as high as I be
Supa Cindy, Big Lip and DJ Irie
The club and mixtape DJ's that break records
'Cause thanks to them we've heard some great records

Shouts out to the technicians they get props
Feel free to holla, anytime you need drops
Bob Collina, the only one to call
Anytime ya boy Jin gota run in with the law

Bert Padell A K A Big Babe Ruth
Got the brinks truck outside, let's get paid loot
6 4 6 6, the trips back and forth
From the studio to the crib, I'm never slackin' off

How 'bout Will, Spivey and of course Killa Kai?
Boondo, Randy, Feron just a few of my
Close associates that I love to see
School me to the game like Joe box and Brother E

Razor and Mario for all them times we rocked shows
To the rest of 176, tato
"Holla front dot com" go register today
Peter Jun, Rock, Lisa, Landy and J

Keepin' me fresh Ellis at the barbershop
Coast to coast, lifestyles reppin' the R alot
My man cartoon bringin' the fresh sound
Cookie and mag OG's holdin' the West down

And of course Swizz Blocks, Carl, climax
Far east movement, they got what ya minds lack
T dot Montreal where I keep mass appeal
Romero, baby you, R G and Neil

It pays to keep it real even more to be sincere
Thanks to B E T for jump startin' my career
As for one oh six who they askin' about
Free and A J can't wait to see yall back on the couch

And MTV for givin' advance warnings
John Singleton plus the chance at performin'
The soul stopper X L Rolling Stone vibe
The truth, the lies, the layout in rides

For every write up forever in context
King magazine Elle girl and complex
To all the producers for providin' the beats
Shouts to Neo, Tunehedz, Divine and Elite

JR, Wyclef, Kanye, can I rep
This is real hip hop be damned if I let
Y'all tell me otherwise 'cause we so live
This one's for 954 and 305

All the way to 718 and 212
And if you ever showed love this one's for you
But I gota say thanks even those that hated
'Cause, 'cause ya'll kept me motivated

{You see, lot times
People dont appreciate the love and support
That they get from they family an' friends
Haters and all they are locked into but not me}

{See I never take none of that for granted
So I knew I had to take a moment
And atleast let ya'll know how I felt about it
C'mon}

I gotta thank God, I wanna thank y'all
I gotta thank God, I wanna thank y'all
I gotta thank God, I wanna thank y'all
I gotta thank God, I wanna thank y'all

'Cause when I'm sure there is no me
Oh my cha I can't forget about you
I know when you make sinners down
You doin' a real good job on that

I know I probaly forgot a ton of people
But don't think that you know count it
Anyway you want, it's just that
It's a lot goin' on right now

I got my element
Little bit of Henessee left in my cup
No I don't even drink like that
I love ya, the rest is history baby

I gotta thank God, I wanna thank y'all
I gotta thank God, I wanna thank y'all
I gotta thank God, I wanna thank y'all
I gotta thank God, I wanna thank y'all

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838287e17195e4318e3b10e17e42f49d

American Pie - Lyrics - American Pie - Don Mclean

Title: American Pie
Album: American Pie
Artist: Don Mclean
Composer(s): Don Mclean

Lyric:
A long, long time ago, I can still remember
How that music used to make me smile
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And maybe they'd be happy for a while

But February made me shiver, with every paper I'd deliver
Bad news on the doorstep, I couldn't take one more step
I can't remember if I cried, when I read about his widowed bride
But something touched me deep inside the day the music died

So bye, bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
And them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye
Singing this'll be the day that I die
This'll be the day that I die

Did you write the book of love
And do you have faith in God above
If the Bible tells you so?
Now do you believe in rock and roll?
Can music save your mortal soul?
And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

Well, I know that you're in love with him
'Cause I saw you dancing in the gym
You both kicked off your shoes
Man, I dig those rhythm and blues

I was a lonely teenage broncin' buck
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck
But I knew I was out of luck
The day the music died

I started singing bye, bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye
And singing this'll be the day that I die
This'll be the day that I die

Now, for ten years we've been on our own
And moss grows fat on a rolling stone
But that's not how it used to be
When the jester sang for the king and queen
In a coat he borrowed from James Dean
And a voice that came from you and me

Oh, and while the king was looking down
The jester stole his thorny crown
The courtroom was adjourned
No verdict was returned

And while Lenin read a book on Marx
The quartet practiced in the park
And we sang 'Dirges In The Dark'
The day the music died

We were singing bye, bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye
And singing this'll be the day that I die
This'll be the day that I die

Helter skelter in a summer swelter
The birds flew off with a fallout shelter
Eight miles high and falling fast
Landed foul on the grass
The players tried for a forward pass
With the jester on the sidelines in a cast

Now the half time air was sweet perfume
While sergeants played a marching tune
We all got up to dance
Oh, but we never got the chance

'Cause the players tried to take the field
The marching band refused to yield
Do you recall what was revealed
The day the music died?

We started singing bye, bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye
And singing this'll be the day that I die
This'll be the day that I die

Oh, and there we were all in one place
A generation lost in space
With no time left to start again
So come on Jack be nimble, Jack be quick
Jack Flash sat on a candlestick
'Cause fire is the devil's only friend

Oh, and as I watched him on the stage
My hands were clenched in fists of rage
No angel born in hell
Could break that Satan's spell

And as the flames climbed high into the night
To light the sacrificial rite
I saw Satan laughing with delight
The day the music died

He was singing bye, bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye
And singing this'll be the day that I die
This'll be the day that I die

I met a girl who sang the blues
And I asked her for some happy news
But she just smiled and turned away
I went down to the sacred store
Where I'd heard the music years before
But the man there said the music wouldn't play

And in the streets the children screamed
The lovers cried and the poets dreamed
But not a word was spoken
The church bells all were broken

And the three men I admire most
The Father, Son and the Holy Ghost
They caught the last train for the coast
The day the music died

And they were singing bye, bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye
Singing this'll be the day that I die
This'll be the day that I die

They were singing, bye, bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye
Singing this'll be the day that I die

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ee65e75691dd34a3df59d39a2e11926e

What'S Goin' Down - Lyrics - Black Eyed Peas

Title: What'S Goin' Down
Artist: Black Eyed Peas
Composer(s): Will Adams, John Buckner Crawford

Lyric:
Yo what's up? What's going down?
Let's start it up, it's not too late
It's not too late to start it up

Yo what's up? What's going down?
Let's start it up, it's not too late
It's not too late to start it up

Buckle up, here comes the shakedown
We gon' turn it up, listen to the bass pound
You got to react, high to the high hat
Bounce to the boom bap, we gon' make your soul tap

When we came through y'all was all mellow, mo
We motivated a marsh pit like heavy metal
Rock crowds from punk rock to soul
And bring funk to monks and aunts and uncles

What you getting good? We da real mother funkers
Funk what you thunk, we the ones that a funk up
Cadillac trunk filled with B E P bumpers
Now comprehend like [unverified] thumpers

Yo what's up? What's going down?
Let's start it up, it's not too late
It's not too late to start it up

Yo what's up? What's going down?
Let's start it up, it's not too late
It's not too late to start it up

Rock hard, hard rock, bombard your whole block
Reinforce my fleet, the funk is non-stop
Dance stars dance hard, I'm back with Weekends
Tied a place in your face with shit that's leaving

Yeah, we be the main source serving up the main course
Don't stop, planet rock, light source by the force
Bang-bang, boogie-boogie, up jump the jumpstart
Ignite to take flight we rocked ya depart
(Where?)

To the third part, it's a trilogy
(What?)
(Galactic voice)
What you didn't know, ay yo, we bring the bumps
Bumps for your trunk and we making the funk-funk

Yo what's up? What's going down?
Let's start it up, it's not too late
It's not too late to start it up

Yo what's up? What's going down?
Let's start it up, it's not too late
It's not too late to start it up

Yo we up again, listen up
It's the Peas with the sound
We's about the break out
Shake the whole Earth now

Bass down up and loud whenever we get
Set it off in your town
Let ya know we all pound
Whoever you are we gonna make you do it

Whatever you do it just stop
And dance to this
This is the diggy,diggy,diggy, diggy rock, rock
This is the diggy,diggy,diggy, diggy crew, crew

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1d1d3b881f1a6d1904ea41cf65a355f9

Cradle To The Grave - Lyrics - The Infamous - Mobb Deep

Title: Cradle To The Grave
Album: The Infamous
Artist: Mobb Deep
Composer(s): Albert Johnson, Kejuan Waliek Muchita

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

Lyric:
Forever wild from the cradle to the grave
Kid, watch your back
One time it's comin' always
They lock me up for twelve days
I can't comprehend
Now I'm a free man on the streets again
Chasin' St. Ide's down with some Seagrams gin
Life is like a dice game and I'm into win

On the scene
From the 41st side of Queens
We get the cream laid up
Love, love for dame
'Cause I mean what I mean
I'm out to claim King
Doin' my thing
Do wild stakes, my name'll reign

To all my people's locked down
Comin' back to life
In the world once again
Though ya bear with strife
While you was gone
He was goin' to war
And even more
Saw my man layin' dead on the floor

Kid, I swore
That our crew would live forever
I guess I was wrong
No, until we meet again
Hold ya head and stay strong
Yo, got my mind
On a place to hide from police

Sweatin' dogs as I'm runnin' 'cross 12th street
Just as I approach the block
I spot a jake on the creep
Down by Vick's weed spot
Made a u-ey up the hill
Plus a change of plans
I had to hurry back
So I could warn my man

Ya had me stressin' [Incomprehensible]
Had my heart rapidly pumpin'
Niggas start a guttin'
Behind the bushes duckin'
My ears rung
I punch a clip into the guns
Got Rayde's in the arm
One slug hit my son

He was bleedin'
From the head
I couldn't believe it
We was defeated
If it was a case
I couldn't beat it
Felt like cryin'
The temperature's risin'

I saw my man
Helpless, damn
Near on the verge of dyin'
So to P, I passed the iron
Kid, you ain't lyin'
I went to stash the murder weapon
Plus I'm relyin'
On a door to be open

Goin' in the buildin'
It's a trap
Police buckin' at me
They try to twist my tongue back
Jetted up the staircase
To the third floor
Reached behind the sink
Throw the heater on the floor

Locked the door
Police grabbed me up
And tried to break my jaw
"So where's the gun we saw?
We know you was there
At the homicide scene
And if it wasn't you
Was somebody from ya team"

From the cradle to the grave
From the cradle to the grave
From the cradle to the grave
From the cradle to the grave

From the cradle to the grave
From the cradle to the grave
From the cradle to the grave
Straight from the motherfuckin' cradle to the grave

Yo, it's the real drama kills
Nobody moves, stand still
Bottle you!
Drop that ass off in a land fill
Son, bless me with the iron
I got beef, with some nigga
From the other side
Over some weak shit

Load up the heaters
Greet 'em with the hollow tips
Flip 'em like the Gotti clip
My crew strictly body shift
The cradle to the grave
Is where I'll end up
Fuck gettin' sent up North
Son, I'm better

Doin' my dirt on a low
Fuckin' wit them mobbers
Like a crowd
No doubt you gonna blow
You never know
He didn't even have to go there
Unprepared now
He's six below

Y'know I'm chillin'
I gots no time for catchin' feelings
Get that money I wants
Some brothers wanna act funny
But it's all good
I still die for the hood
For my peoples, yeah
Knock on wood

Triple L rollin' dice
While I put you on
To the drama what I gotta say
Is short, not long
This nigga that I'm beginnin' to dislike
He got me fed
If he doesn't discontinue his bullshit
He might be dead

You know him well
And probably go way back
But I don't care if he's your man
Doin' shit like that
I hope the word gets back to him
'Cause I'll screw him
He shitted on my man
And we got plans to do him

Let's get it over with quick
I'm tired of waitin'
Ain't no fair overhead there
We just debatin'
On when and how
Later or right now
Spoke to Killa yesterday
He said to chill for a while

But it's hard acting
Like everythin' is alright
I get the chills
When I see that nigga in my sight
A dead man walkin'
Not only that, he's still talkin'
About what?
About how an' what he did very often

And you don't know
How much I fiend
To put his ass in a coffin
One day my man
And the next he's not
Didn't know him long
Anyway, so fuck it
It's funny how things change

From the cradle to the grave
From the cradle to the grave
From the cradle to the grave
From the cradle to the grave

From the cradle to the grave
From the cradle to the grave
From the cradle to the grave
Straight from the motherfuckin' cradle to the grave

Word up man
Y'knowhatumsayin'?
We gonna die, it's for real, kid
No games bein' played

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bbc89e18ae96903ba6a3c66b9dc86223

In My Hood - Lyrics - Massacre - 50 Cent

Title: In My Hood
Album: Massacre
Artist: 50 Cent
Composer(s): Luis Resto, Curtis Jackson, Marshall Mathers, Phillip Pitts, Teraike Crawford

Lyric:
Niggas screw they face up at me
On some real shit son they don't want beef
I cock that, aim that shit out the window
I spray, there ain't a shell left in my heat

Ya niggas better lay down, young in stay down
Get hit wit AK rounds, ya ass ain't gonna make it
You niggas'll get laid out, wit blood and ya brains out
Have ya on the concrete shiverin' and shakin'

I'm from South side motherfucker
Where gats explode
If you feel like ya on fire, boy
Drop and roll

Niggas'll eatcha ass up 'cuz they heart turn cold
Now you could be a victim or you can lock and load
Party jumpin', shorty bouncin' that ass
I wanna fuck

Gimme a second, I'ma holla, I'ma see what's up
I got my razor and my handgun
My pistol in trunk
Carve ya ass up nicely if ya play me like a punk

In my hood
Niggas got love for me
But I don't go nowhere without my strap
In my hood
A little dro, a lil' Hennessey
A nigga juz don't know how to act

In my hood
Niggas is grimy
I stay on point, I hold to my gat
In my hood
Niggas might buck at me
So I keep somethin' around to buck back
In my hood

I don't trust a motherfuckin' soul when the D's come they fold
On my first case they told
Where I'm from it ain't safe to have more than a eighth
Niggas'll come to ya place, put a gun in ya face

Tell ya open the safe, as ya heart start to race
'Cuz a robbery can turn into a homi-case
Cooperate or doc'll have to operate
Because I pop you run a light than pop at jake

Trust me son
Niggas'll go on for they cake
These thirsty niggas are lurkin'
You have to catch 'em and merk 'em

I'm observant in my hood, these niggas be dummin'
Shots go off at the dice game, all you see is them runnin'
That make it harder and harder to pump on the block
I'm a hustler, how the fuck am supposed to eat when it's hot?

In my hood
Niggas got love for me
But I don't go nowhere without my strap
In my hood
A little dro, a lil' Hennessey
A nigga juz don't know how to act

In my hood
Niggas is grimy
I stay on point, I hold to my gat
In my hood
Niggas might buck at me
So I keep somethin' around to buck back
In my hood

The house party off the hook until them shots go off
Well that's what you get for stuntin' on my block, show off
Uh, you shit outta luck if niggas catch you slippin'
Crack money slow, so you know niggas is trippin'

Shorty down there on that Queens track, takin' a whippin'
Shit, bitch get outta pocket, she needs some discipline
Peep the feins shootin' diesel in his arm in the alley
Look at the chrome spinners, spinnin' on that black Denali

The grimy niggas where I'm from don't wanna see you chipped up
You shine they gone jux you about to shoot ya whip up
It ain't good to do good in my hood
Blaaow, you know not to do good now

In my hood
Niggas got love for me
But I don't go nowhere without my strap
In my hood
A little dro, a lil' Hennessey
A nigga juz don't know how to act

In my hood
Niggas is grimy
I stay on point, I hold to my gat
In my hood
Niggas might buck at me
So I keep somethin' around to buck back
In my hood

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31c00722d228abeec42fa7568cd903af

Last Thoughts On Woody Guthrie - Lyrics - Bob Dylan

Title: Last Thoughts On Woody Guthrie
Artist: Bob Dylan
Composer(s): Bob Dylan

Lyric:
When yer head gets twisted and yer mind grows numb
When you think you're too old, too young, too smart or too dumb
When yer laggin' behind an' losin' yer pace
In a slow-motion crawl of life's busy race
No matter what yer doing if you start givin' up
If the wine don't come to the top of yer cup

If the wind's got you sideways with one hand holdin' on
And the other starts slipping and the feeling is gone
And yer train engine fire needs a new spark to catch it
And the wood's easy findin' but yer lazy to fetch it
And yer sidewalk starts curlin' and the street gets too long
And you start walkin' backwards though you know its wrong
And lonesome comes up as down goes the day
And tomorrow's mornin' seems so far away

And you feel the reins from yer pony are slippin'
And yer rope is a-slidin' 'cause yer hands are a-drippin'
And yer sun-decked desert and evergreen valleys
Turn to broken down slums and trash-can alleys
And yer sky cries water and yer drain pipe's a-pourin'
And the lightnin's a-flashing and the thunder's a-crashin'
And the windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the roof tops a-shakin'
And yer whole world's a-slammin' and bangin'

And yer minutes of sun turn to hours of storm
And to yourself you sometimes say
"I never knew it was gonna be this way
Why didn't they tell me the day I was born?"

And you start gettin' chills and yer jumping from sweat
And you're lookin' for somethin' you ain't quite found yet
And yer knee-deep in the dark water with yer hands in the air
And the whole world's a-watchin' with a window peek stare
And yer good gal leaves and she's long gone a-flying
And yer heart feels sick like fish when they're fryin'

And yer jackhammer falls from yer hand to yer feet
And you need it badly but it lays on the street
And yer bell's bangin' loudly but you can't hear it's beat
And you think yer ears might a been hurt
Or yer eyes've turned filthy from the sight-blindin' dirt
And you figured you failed in yesterdays rush
When you were faked out an' fooled white facing a four flush

And all the time you were holdin' three queens
And it's makin you mad, it's makin' you mean
Like in the middle of Life magazine
Bouncin' around a pinball machine

And there's something on yer mind you wanna be saying
That somebody someplace oughta be hearin'
But it's trapped on yer tongue and sealed in yer head
And it bothers you badly when your layin' in bed
And no matter how you try you just can't say it
And yer scared to yer soul you just might forget it
And yer eyes get swimmy from the tears in yer head
And yer pillows of feathers turn to blankets of lead

And the lion's mouth opens and yer staring at his teeth
And his jaws start closin with you underneath
And yer flat on your belly with yer hands tied behind
And you wish you'd never taken that last detour sign
And you say to yourself, "Just what am I doin'
On this road I'm walkin', on this trail I'm turnin'
On this curve I'm hanging
On this pathway I'm strolling, in the space I'm taking
In this air I'm inhaling?

Am I mixed up too much, am I mixed up too hard?
Why am I walking, where am I running?
What am I saying, what am I knowing?
On this guitar I'm playing, on this banjo I'm frailin'
On this mandolin I'm strummin', in the song I'm singin'
In the tune I'm hummin', in the words I'm thinkin'
In the words that I'm writing

In this ocean of hours I'm all the time drinkin'
Who am I helping, what am I breaking?
What am I giving, what am I taking?
But you try with your whole soul best
Never to think these thoughts and never to let
Them kind of thoughts gain ground
Or make yer heart pound
But then again you know why they're around
Just waiting for a chance to slip and drop down

"Cause sometimes you hear'em when the night times comes creeping
And you fear that they might catch you a-sleeping
And you jump from yer bed, from yer last chapter of dreamin'
And you can't remember for the best of yer thinking
If that was you in the dream that was screaming
And you know that it's something special you're needin'
And you know that there's no drug that'll do for the healin'
And no liquor in the land to stop yer brain from bleeding

You need something special, you need something special, all right
You need a fast flyin' train on a tornado track
To shoot you someplace and shoot you back
You need a cyclone wind on a stream engine howler
That's been banging and booming and blowing forever
That knows yer troubles a hundred times over

You need a Greyhound bus that don't bar no race
That won't laugh at yer looks, your voice or your face
And by any number of bets in the book
Will be rollin' long after the bubblegum craze
You need something to open up a new door
To show you something you seen before
But overlooked a hundred times or more
You need something to open your eyes

You need something to make it known
That it's you and no one else that owns
That spot that yer standing
That space that you're sitting
That the world ain't got you beat
That it ain't got you licked
It can't get you crazy no matter how many
Times you might get kicked

You need something special all right
You need something special to give you hope
But hope's just a word that maybe you said or maybe you heard
On some windy corner 'round a wide-angled curve
But that's what you need man, and you need it bad
And yer trouble is you know it too good
"Cause you look an' you start getting the chills
"Cause you can't find it on a dollar bill

And it ain't on Macy's window sill
And it ain't on no rich kid's road map
And it ain't in no fat kid's fraternity house
And it ain't made in no Hollywood wheat germ
And it ain't on that dimlit stage
With that half-wit comedian on it
Ranting and raving and taking yer money
And you thinks it's funny

No you can't find it in no night club or no yacht club
And it ain't in the seats of a supper club
And sure as hell you're bound to tell that no matter how hard you rub
You just ain't a-gonna find it on yer ticket stub
No, and it ain't in the rumors people're tellin' you
And it ain't in the pimple-lotion people are sellin' you
And it ain't in no cardboard-box house
Or down any movie star's blouse

And you can't find it on the golf course
And Uncle Remus can't tell you and neither can Santa Claus
And it ain't in the cream puff hair-do or cotton candy clothes
And it ain't in the dime store dummies or bubblegum goons
And it ain't in the marshmallow noises of the chocolate cake voices
That come knockin' and tappin' in Christmas wrappin'

Sayin' "Ain't I pretty and ain't I cute?
Look at my skin
Look at my skin shine, look at my skin glow
Look at my skin laugh, look at my skin cry"
When you can't even sense if they got any insides
These people so pretty in their ribbons and bows
No you'll not now or no other day
Find it on the doorsteps made out-a paper mache?
And inside it the people made of molasses
That every other day buy a new pair of sunglasses

And it ain't in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out phonies
Who'd turn yuh in for a tenth of a penny
Who breathe and burp and bend and crack
And before you can count from one to ten
Do it all over again but this time behind yer back, my friend
The ones that wheel and deal and whirl and twirl
And play games with each other in their sand-box world

And you can't find it either in the no-talent fools
That run around gallant and make all rules for the ones that got talent
And it ain't in the ones that ain't got any talent but think they do
And think they're foolin' you
The ones who jump on the wagon
Just for a while 'cause they know it's in style
To get their kicks, get out of it quick
And make all kinds of rnoney and chicks

And you yell to yourself and you throw down yer hat
Sayin', "Christ do I gotta be like that!
Ain't there no one here that knows where I'm at?
Ain't there no one here that knows how I feel?
Good God Almighty that stuff ain't real!

No but that ain't yer game, it ain't even yer race
You can't hear yer name, you can't see yer face
You gotta look some other place
And where do you look for this hope that yer seekin'?
Where do you look for this lamp that's a-burnin'?
Where do you look for this oil well gushin'?
Where do you look for this candle that's glowin'?
Where do you look for this hope that you know is there
And out there somewhere
And your feet can only walk down two kinds of roads?

Your eyes can only look through two kinds of windows
Your nose can only smell two kinds of hallways
You can touch and twist and turn two kinds of doorknobs
You can either go to the church of your choice
Or you can go to Brooklyn State Hospital
You'll find God in the church of your choice
You'll find Woody Guthrie in Brooklyn State Hospital

And though it's only my opinion
I may be right or wrong
You'll find them both
In the Grand Canyon at sundown

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Thought Process - Lyrics - Soul Food - Goodie Mob

Title: Thought Process
Album: Soul Food
Artist: Goodie Mob
Composer(s): Andre Benjamin, Thomas Decarlo Burton, Willie Edward Knighton, Patrick Leroy Brown, Cameron F Gipp, Raymon Ameer Murray, Rico Renard Wade, Robert Terrance Barnett

Lyric:
Let me get a chop at this lumber niggas
From da down underground are hangin' around the A-Town
Lookin' for a come up, workin' from 9 to 5
Just to get some change so T-Mo can stay alive
Not greedy or living' lavish yet but you can bet that when I do
Nobody from my crew will I forget
And if I start to get large and come up on some change
I won't change, everybody know they down

It's not the same, everyday life can be different
These laws got me ready to ball
'Cause I fall a victim so I still be slanging them fat pillows
To make 'em meet, each and every day as I comb my city streets
Sometimes I wish I never had been apart of this mess
'Cause the system got us fucked up

It put us to the test, women and men if you black you in
Food for the soul listen to what I tell you it don't matter
Young or old it's time we loc' up and do like we suppose
We killin' each other over this bullshit and some clothes
We're trapped off in this world and society with no place else to go
So how you feel?

Frustrated, irritated, sometimes I don't know myself I be too numb
To feel something sometimes, so I dig deep, get in the Cherokee
Let my mind fly free into the wilderness so I can get this shit
Off my mind, that's why I be smokin' that dank sometimes
It keeps me from snappin', keeps me calm, keeps my mind open
Keeps me firm of what I gots to do off in the studio
To get my old burd back on her feet

And my little bro' in Statesboro and my little cuz Mark Twain, all my
Folks that hang with me when I was out in the trap or when I was goin'
Through one of our episodes, only God knows, what I go through
So I get down on my knees, sometimes I come home
Too high to pray, but I get on my bed lay on my back and meditate
Anyway, in the ceilings, the four walls, it's like cell therapy
I got nothing to do but write about my L I F E, put it down on paper
So what you feel?

I live for today, mother fuck another hour, it might be sour
Never know my day, so I'm prayin' in the shower
Look up and thank the Lord for forgiveness, a witness to bad
I'm lookin' for good in the Southwest, God bless my neighborhood
It's people killin' in da street to eat surviving the day
Is the only goat that I set just to make it home, I'm not alone
Someone's out to get me when I haven't done shit wrong

My head felt swoll, mist couldn't see past my mouth
What route did you take man caught me by that loops of my pants
Got me on the curb lettin' tha traffic pass me by
No questions I said nothing lookin' for tha mutant to be buckin'
Tha law naw, man Gipp show him my shit close my mouth then I dip
See to me G is a person who understand tha plan
Can't make no moves when you in tha hands of tha man
They got some new suites down Peachtree

Left wing for tha Feds, right wing for tha hard heads
Makin' more deals than Buddy Folks made with Harts field
Somebody don't want my face in tha place, for 96 shits slick
Got me clean, lookin' fresh, dogs be scratchin' at my chest
Under the order of who? Guess who ain't non-iller than miller
Wanna 1, 2 your ass no more life what you gave was tha past
'Cause ain't no future wanna milliamp your case
Disgrace your face, make it seem to be safe ain't no place to run

Sometimes I don't even know how I'm gonna eat
'Bout twenty dollars away from being on the street
Shit, you might see a nigga on TV but hell it's almost like
I'm rappin' for free that little money be gone, got dammit, I'm grown
Gotta help keep the heat and lights on
It would be nice to have mo' but I kinda like being po'
At least I know what my friends here fo'

I wanna lie to you sometimes, but I can't
I wanna tell you that it's all good, but it ain't
It's nigga's hurtin' and uncertain 'bout if they gon' make it or not
That's why we got nigga's killing, feelin like they coming up
Off a little dope they sold you can get some gold
But we won't make it as a whole 'cause without you there'd be no me
And without no unity there will never be any happiness
You could smoke a pound of sess and it still won't relieve yo' stress
God bless my thought process

The thought process
Now, now as an Outkast I was born, wasn't warned of the harm
That would come to meet me like Met Life, but yet life done
Sent me through a lot of ups and down like it ain't nothing'
Like elevators but I ain't the one that's pushin' the buttons
I got off at the 13th floor, when they told me that it wasn't one
They said it skipped from 12 to 14

Still smoking, still drinking, no I'm sittin' on the Lincoln 4 A.M.
Thinkin' that in reality the world is like a ball full of playas
We trapped off in this maze with walls made of layers
And only prayers is the tightest game that you can have
The devil's takin' a swing that might explain the broken glass
But my crystal ball see the pistol fall to the wayside
Nobody would die in cops and robbers when we used to play right

Huh, the only thang we feared was Williams, Wayne
Never though about hittin' licks or slangin' caine
Didn't think I'd be the one to give in to abortion
Label me murder because my ass is scorchin'
Hot from the Glock that sits under my seat
Yeah, it's real fucked up that my folks come to get me
And it's like dat, yeah, and it's like dem

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