Ain'T Even Done With The Night - Lyrics - John Mellencamp

Title: Ain'T Even Done With The Night
Artist: John Mellencamp
Composer(s): John Mellencamp

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

Lyric:
Well, our hearts beat like thunder
I don't know why they don't explode
You got your hands in my back pockets
And Sam Cooke's singin' on the radio

You say that, I'm the boy
Who can make it all come true
Well, I'm tellin' you that I don't know
If I know what to do

You say, that's all right, hold tight
That I don't even know if I'm doin' this right
Well all right, hold tight
We can stay out all day, we can run around all night
Well, all night, all night
Well, it's time to go home and I ain't even done with the night

Well, I don't know no good come-ons
And I don't know no cool lines
I feel the heat of your frustration
I know it's burnin' you up deep down inside

You say that, I'm the boy
Who can make it all come true
Well, I'm tellin' you that I don't know
If I know what to do

You say, that's all right, hold tight
Well, I don't even know if I'm doin' this right
Well, all right, hold tight
We can stay out all day, we can run around all night
Well, all night, all night
Well, it's time to go home and I ain't even done with the night

Ain't even done with the night, hold tight
Well, I don't even know if I'm doin' this right
Well, all right, hold tight
We can stay out all day or we can run around all night
Well, all night, all night
Well, it's time to go home and I ain't even done with the night

No, I ain't even done with the night
No, no, ain't even done with the night
No, I ain't even done with the night
No, no, ain't even, ain't even done with the night
No, no, ain't even done with the night
No, I ain't even done with the night

Play the MP3 online for free!

a8f805e84c2a85a0f377e3e4506fe10a

Tales From The Darkside - Lyrics - Dmx

Title: Tales From The Darkside
Artist: Dmx
Composer(s): J Carpenter, I Lorenzo, R Mays, E Simmons

Lyric:
And now, the tale from the Darkside
I got to remind y'all niggas what the flow is all about
It's about this, anywhere from forty-eight and up
Straight, you feel me? Fifty fifty

Aiyyo, I gots to hear the beat so I can eat, aight?
If I can't live, you can't live, ain't nothin' sweet
Bitch ass niggas think it's all about Versace
A week later them niggas talkin' about, ?Yo, X got me?

I thought he was my man but he act like he ain't know me
I knew he had the joint but I didn't wanna make him show me
That nigga be buggin', stickin' cats up and random
Doin' his dirt and disappearin' like the Phantom

Niggas can't stand him but ask me if I care
'Cuz what I used to give a fuck about just ain't there
And ain't nothin' fair, I knew this for a long time
That's why with every wrong crime comes anotha strong rhyme

And that's mo' time under the belt, you felt what I had
And I shouldn't have even done it, that's what made this shit sad
I'm doin' bad but if I gots to feel it, you gots to feel it
And if a nigga can't afford it, I gots to steal it

And that's how real it gets when this shit hits the fan
You still tryin' to get the man, first catch up with the man
Then we gon' see what'chu made of
If your shit ain't pumpin' Kool-Aid, what you afraid of?

The monster under the bed, fill ya with four slugs to the head
Or ya babies' mother missin' for a month, found dead
Worms comin' from places you stuck ya dick in
Maggots got the bitch covered and the smells sick'nin'

Plastic don't hide the smell for too long, I do wrong
And so I don't have nightmares I forget about it, move on
Keep gettin' my groove on 'cuz that shit could fuck with'chu
Keep dwellin' on it and it's gonna get stuck with you

Niggas try their luck with you 'cuz they smell ass
And money, if you pussy, I'm gonna be able to tell fast
Some cop I'm about to smack across the face in this robbery
I'm on a robbin' spree and ain't no stoppin' me

On this real, that's why a nigga stay writin'
'Cuz kid this shit is real, what you think we play fightin'?
You must of saw som'thin' funny or never saw som'thin' bloody
Or you don't know, I'll bring it to your door 'cuz I'm cruddy

Like puddy, when I hold you niggas, I mold you niggas
I done told you niggas that I been owed you niggas
For that shit you did that you wasn't built for
Shit, I guess you didn't know you do get killed for

I done filled niggas up with the extended clip
It's like I blew this joint down with the extended rip
Or that non-stop when the bomb drops
I'ma take it from where you at and then end up on ya moms' block

From here to Comstock, niggas gettin' bust wild
Cell cagers last night from lock out just died
Ain't no where to hide, ain't no wear to run
What more can they do to a man that ain't been done?

A mind is a terrible thing to waste
Especially if it's all over the place, your mind all over his face
How do brains taste when they mixed with gun powder?
Semi to fully automatic makes the gun louder

I got som'thin' to fix pain when I kicks game
'Cuz I'ma float off more tracks than they sixth train
You 'bout to get flamed, from ash to ashes to dirt
You gon' go with the dough that your life was worth, motherfucker

Play the MP3 online for free!

8d3f19c3eedc5b86e12636666a512cd9

The Pistol - Lyrics - Dead Prez

Title: The Pistol
Artist: Dead Prez
Composer(s): L Alford, C Gavin, L Dechalus

Lyric:
We ain't trying to hear shit for what?
(Cash money)
We whole world operating off a
(Cash money)
To all my niggas with a whole lotta
(Cash money)
Watch yo' back money

You couldn't neva understand how my mind tick
I'm on some old school crime shit
When niggas sold two's to keep the dimes lit
Ain't no rules when these iron shots are stoned, dun
This heat burn through your flesh, straight to the bones

I reach for the buddha, cess and zone
I probably have a future of stress, stay depressed and be alone
But as far as the present time, it's on
I represent mine 'til I return to the S
And said I'm dead and gone

Nobody wanna be broke and you neither
Put me on the co'na, watch me catch a quick case of cream fever
If you be popping shit, my niggas won't believe ya
Probably punch you in the face and take ya wallet when we see ya

But son, it gets deeper
I'm running with a click that's being hunted by the Grim Reaper
To all my peoples in the man keeper
Let'cha situation be a teacher

Ain't nothing like a education
When I was locked down, I learned about patience and dedication
And not to say shit unless you need a motherfucking face lift
And as a youth, I was a outcast
Running around with pelagons, playing war
But now it's all about cash

I'm caught up, caught up in a mix of shit
And I ain't trying to hear shit 'til my got cash to get
Blast you with the pistol
If I have to, in my mind, it's all about cash in a fistful

I'm caught up in a mix of shit
And I ain't trying to hear shit 'til my got cash to get
Splash you with the pistol
If I have to, in my mind, it's all about cash in a fistful

Up late night and upset and fed up
Niggas coming up wet, I'm dead up
Fuck trying to your head up
And when it go down, word bond, we gotta get up

Too many locked down upstate, son, it's a set up
My life has sped up, many years, I'm straight up
Plenty bears for who ain't here and those who ate up
Test and get sprayed up in the club

We couldn't run it, so we take the blade up in the booth
Since we couldn't shoot
We heat it up, losing the shirt, showing the bare chest
I'm blessed, puffing the skunk make me care less

The best that you can do is duck my fucking crew
If the slugs don't get'cha, Lord J'll jig ya
Acting artificial, you'll get burnt my the pistol
Before it's done, even my guns'll turn to missiles

Don't have to blow the whistle on you
'Cuz everybody knows you
Watch yourself around borderline psychos
Who know my people gotta hold a mint
Or they ain't worth a cent
How can you represent if you can't pay the rent?

And leave a dent in my life time, I'm caught up in trife crime
In fights, you neva know what you might find
We stand firm meanwhile 'cuz niggas that seem wild
Be bucking blanks, if they were men they wouldn't fuck with pranks
I leave them niggas alone and stay home
Until it cool down, as they remember how my tool sound

I'm caught up, caught up in a mix of shit
And I ain't trying to hear shit 'til my got cash to get
Blast you with the pistol
If I have to, in my mind, it's all about cash in a fistful

I'm caught up in a mix of shit
And I ain't trying to hear shit 'til my got cash to get
Splash you with the pistol
If I have to, in my mind, it's all about cash in a fistful

We ain't trying to hear shit for what?
(Cash money)
We whole world operating off a
(Cash money)
To all my niggas with a whole lotta
(Cash money)
Watch yo' back money

Yeah, we up on what we dealing with
We ain't no criminals, we got the right to have gats
As long as the army, navy, air force, marines got gats
We gon' hold heat, knamsaying?
'Cuz our army gotta represent for us, word up
Aiyyo, Maintain
(Yeah)
Set that shit, son

Forever keeping my shit cocked for drama
Stainless steal, shit is for real
The way these rats is known to squeal, making sour deals
Thugs up in to mix with these drugs, caught up in the humble
Bricks and paper by the bundle, how the Bronx humble

[Unverified] devils get deaded, never regret it, only known to set it
Stealing existence, obviously ya jetted
Speak the dissest, I see the pyramid and eagle
Back of the dollar bill, ill deceitful, we consider lethal

God falling, niggas be balling, guzzling alcoholics
Two drinks, too many is like whitey infiltrating your fortress
This is on, we 'bout to form, best prepare for the storm
Y'all funny niggas quick to ring the alarm

Bomb fell, now a nation is gel
We had to dwell for four hundred or more
The Lord had the right just living poor
Resurrecting the true and living back the power
Devils getting devoured, niggas heard the God holla

Play the MP3 online for free!

f90736ba640aee8d341a7d4a0ef83056

40 - End Of The World - Lyrics - E

Title: 40 - End Of The World
Artist: E
Composer(s): Ricardo Thomas, Earl Stevens

Lyric:
It's the end of the world
Everybody's lookin' for some satisfaction
I just want me a girl
Every motherfucker with some weed start passin'

It's the end of the game
All my fuckin' homies, chasin' G's, ain't nothin'
It ain't hard to explain

Came in the game with a few dollars, I left the game with a few mill'
That's the way I woulda retired from this rap game fo' real
Get a distribution deal, brush up some of this dirty scrill
Live up on the hill, like E-40 Fonzariggadale end of my history

Showin' some love to all of my thugs, all of my folks incarcerated
Liftin' waterbacks and drinkin' mud, walkin' the yard with they elbow up
Poppy grains crushed up, big A and little A
My cousin Freddy Smith and Mack North, see ya when you touch down

Man I'm doin' alright, I missed your call the other day
But I got yo' kite, you know my cousin
Such and such done, got back on the pipe
They took her down the other night for tryin' to steal a bike
Anyway, we walkin' on, man, I can't wait 'til y'all get home

Man there's so many funny style ass negroes on this earth
The real ones gone, hoe shit, lead to mo' shit
Gats is cheap, man, ain't no mo' money left out here
Man I'm one of the last of the Mohicans

It's the end of the world
Everybody's lookin' for some satisfaction
I just want me a girl
Every motherfucker with some weed start passin'

It's the end of the game
All my fuckin' homies chasin' G's, ain't nothin'
It ain't hard to explain
My gunspray'll pop this off the world, keep stackin

Uhh, I ain't tryin' to be landin' in a [Incomprehensible]
For whatever it's worth, I'ma get off first
Better him than me though, I done got down on fools befo'
Come with the package, 'specially when you're out there pitchin' blow

I wear these glasses to look like a nerd, square off like Urkel
Movin' too fast like turbo, gotta slow it down like turtles
Scrillionaire, millionaire, overcomin' obstacles and hurdles
There's somethin' 'bout my circle

Surrounded by Saggitarius, not too many Virgos
Just Scorpios and Aries, like
Like right now, I'm in the local booth, whassup slugger?
Hey, Pimp Juice, ya alright? Oh fo' sho', Fa shiggadale

You got some tweak? Nope, I smoked it to the fingernails
The fingernails? Yeah, 'cuz o, the fingernails
Man, I'm so high right now that I can barely even spell
Barely spell? On the real pimpin', I can't tell
Pimpin', you lyin I, yeah, mayn I'm drunk as hell

It's the end of the world
Everybody's lookin' for some satisfaction
I just want me a girl
Every motherfucker with some weed start passin'

It's the end of the game
All my fuckin' homies chasin' G's, ain't nothin'
It ain't hard to explain
My gunspray'll pop this off the world, keep stackin

It's about a quarter after nine, I know, I opened up
A verse with that line before, but I'ma say it one mo' time
I think I drunk too much wine
Anybody got a Motrin? I feel like my head's explodin'

Wakin' up in the mornin', squeezin' and fartin' and yawnin'
Smokin' a joint to the dome and
Talkin' on my burnt out phone and to my breakin' broad that ain't knowin'
To my mistress broad be hoein', my mistress broad, that's hoein'

In lieu of my pregnant broad that's showin', glarin' and glowin'
Ready to drop the load explode, sittin' on the porch, lightin' a torch
Puffin' on a clove, in and out of church, back and forth
Hustlin' gangster mode, run back in on that turf, sellin' that Nerf

That soft, white, rocky road, dolla danglin' for danglin' gangland
Manglin', set you up and bangin', claimin'
The park in the game that rainin', off there drinkin' and thinkin'
Chokin' and sparkin' and flamin', barely maintainin'
Hopin' and wishin' and dreamin', the Lord'll let me into his kingdom

It's the end of the world
Everybody's lookin' for some satisfaction
I just want me a girl
Every motherfucker with some weed start passin'

It's the end of the game
All my fuckin' homies chasin' G's, ain't nothin'
It ain't hard to explain
My gunspray'll pop this off the world, keep stackin

It's the end of the world
Everybody's lookin' for some satisfaction
I just want me a girl
Every motherfucker with some weed start passin'

It's the end of the game
All my fuckin' homies chasin' G's, ain't nothin'
It ain't hard to explain
My gunspray'll pop this off the world, keep stackin

Play the MP3 online for free!

dba9b3416123bf64de9579755308ee4f

Down Bottom - Lyrics - Drag On

Title: Down Bottom
Artist: Drag On
Composer(s): Mel Jason Smalls, Truis Grey, Kasseem Dean

Lyric:
Oh, damn now bop to this oh
Yeah y'all know what this is
Flame on Juvenile Drag-On flame on
And now swizz, swizz beatz, yeah

Me and my niggaz done licked shots, even done hit cops
Bet y'all niggaz can't wait till my shit drop
Treat you like your moma given' lip to pop
Nigga you don't want my paper drop

'Cause that means I'm empty, and your full of it
Check what the bullet did, missiles gonna hit you get you
Rip through tissue, should have never rhymed this 'cause I miss you
I make plus cash y'all little niggaz can't fuck wit drag

Got the chain out so it's bust and grab
Nigga fuck that you better bust back
'Fore ya nigga ask back where the vest at
Rock like a girl but you can't trust cash

Spit like a fire but you can't touch black
All you can do is cuss back and read back
How you bust gats nigga we don't need that
I don't care about your feed back, y'all niggaz don't feed drag

Tell a motherfucker pull out bust a bullet out in ya safe house
Nigga where the keys at nigga?
Where the stash at nigga? Where the weed at?
Nigga pass that 'fore I pull my trigger

Mater fact where the ass at? 'Cause I got the Ruff Ryders
And I aint talkin' bout my niggaz
Nigga we can go hoe for hoe, toe to toe, blow for blow
And when you fell your nose crack

That mean I broke that I'm fittin' to po-po
Wit a flame thrower like I told yo' befo', ya know
You can't handle it you can put me on wax but my fire burn candles
And who that nigga ruff rydin' Drag-On y'all niggaz and south siders

Do y'all niggaz bust y'all guns, hell, yeah we bust our guns
Do you fuck them 'till they cum, damn right we make them cum
It's for the north, head south, head east, head west
Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggaz who rides the best

Do y'all niggaz bust y'all guns, hell, yeah we bust our guns
Do you fuck them 'till they cum, damn right we make them cum
It's for the north, head south, head east, head west
Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggaz who rides the best

In the late night, we be cockin' high givin' you stage fright
Yo' head might explode when I bust with the lead pipe
And I say right, Juvenile hey tight, stay hype, now page mike
And make sure he got all the yeah, aight?

I'm tired of niggaz be thinkin' that you usin' me
Runnin' with them petty ass niggaz lookin' like fools to me
I'm workin' wit some change, yeah
And ain't afraid to put 50 up on ya brain, yeah

You 'bout warin' over ya people I'm the same, yeah
Look, I'ma have some body sayin' thats the shame game
But if them people come they ain't gonna give no names, yeah
Playin' with the number one son don't play no games, yeah

Come outside don't see nothin' but camouflage and bricks
Yo' get some boys strapped with bandannas tryin' knock off yo' shit
Ya stankin' bitch, I ruff ryde your ass then
Cashin' for money Juve ain't gettin' nothin', that shit is funny

Do y'all niggaz bust y'all guns, hell, yeah we bust our guns
Do you fuck them 'till they cum, damn right we make them cum
It's for the north, head south, head east, head west
Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggaz who rides the best

Do y'all niggaz bust y'all guns, hell, yeah we bust our guns
Do you fuck them 'till they cum, damn right we make them cum
It's for the north, head south, head east, head west
Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggaz who rides the best

When my niggaz get knocked we gonna bail them out
When it come to my gun my shells is out
You better get the message 'cause I done mailed it out
I'ma bang like a hammer and I'ma nail us out

East, west the right this for my niggaz up north
My guns made in China so you better dust off
'Cause when they getcha you gonna be ketchup
I always got chedder I never ass bet ya'

And I won't even sweat ya' we roll much larger and better
My dough is never low but if drag is down on his last
I'ma reach in my sweater bet my baretta
Make a nigga feel heat in cold weather

Can't stand a nigga hype throw me his bitch
Bitch come to my shit you betta come get her
Be like a dog with a bone I run with her
Y'all make me so tired y'all niggaz still rappin'

Like y'all don't know my flows fire
Y'all ain't got y'all boots ain't got y'all suits
Probaly got a gun that ain't never shoot
When they come you better hope they don't name you

'Cause like two sticks rubbin' I'll flame you
Don't try to be me 'cause I ain't you
'Fore I have your spirits with the angels
My shorty keep a gun on the ankles

Wanna fuck, watch out she will bang you
'Cause I taught her well, y'all players better haul to hell
But you niggaz couldn't borrow a belt
Who evers wit you is gonna jail

Is you niggaz bustin' guns or you ain't bustin' none, ha
You want to fuck'em till they cum, ha
Drag-on Juvenille double up what you want, ha

Do y'all niggaz bust y'all guns, hell, yeah we bust our guns
Do you fuck them 'till they cum, damn right we make them cum
It's for the north, head south, head east, head west
Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggaz who rides the best

Do y'all niggaz bust y'all guns, hell, yeah we bust our guns
Do you fuck them 'till they cum, damn right we make them cum
It's for the north, head south, head east, head west
Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggaz who rides the best

Do y'all niggaz bust y'all guns, hell, yeah we bust our guns
Do you fuck them 'till they cum, damn right we make them cum
It's for the north, head south, head east, head west
Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggaz who rides the best

Do y'all niggaz bust y'all guns, hell, yeah we bust our guns
Do you fuck them 'till they cum, damn right we make them cum
It's for the north, head south, head east, head west
Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggaz who rides the best

Play the MP3 online for free!

fb9835d72896ca8f83f25ad834975cfe

Down Bottom (Video Version/Remix) - Lyrics - Drag On

Title: Down Bottom (Video Version/Remix)
Artist: Drag On
Composer(s): Mel Jason Smalls, Truis Grey, Kasseem Dean

Lyric:
Oh, damn now bop to this oh
Yeah y'all know what this is
Flame on Juvenile Drag-On flame on
And now swizz, swizz beatz, yeah

Me and my niggaz done licked shots, even done hit cops
Bet y'all niggaz can't wait till my shit drop
Treat you like your moma given' lip to pop
Nigga you don't want my paper drop

'Cause that means I'm empty, and your full of it
Check what the bullet did, missiles gonna hit you get you
Rip through tissue, should have never rhymed this 'cause I miss you
I make plus cash y'all little niggaz can't fuck wit drag

Got the chain out so it's bust and grab
Nigga fuck that you better bust back
'Fore ya nigga ask back where the vest at
Rock like a girl but you can't trust cash

Spit like a fire but you can't touch black
All you can do is cuss back and read back
How you bust gats nigga we don't need that
I don't care about your feed back, y'all niggaz don't feed drag

Tell a motherfucker pull out bust a bullet out in ya safe house
Nigga where the keys at nigga?
Where the stash at nigga? Where the weed at?
Nigga pass that 'fore I pull my trigger

Mater fact where the ass at? 'Cause I got the Ruff Ryders
And I aint talkin' bout my niggaz
Nigga we can go hoe for hoe, toe to toe, blow for blow
And when you fell your nose crack

That mean I broke that I'm fittin' to po-po
Wit a flame thrower like I told yo' befo', ya know
You can't handle it you can put me on wax but my fire burn candles
And who that nigga ruff rydin' Drag-On y'all niggaz and south siders

Do y'all niggaz bust y'all guns, hell, yeah we bust our guns
Do you fuck them 'till they cum, damn right we make them cum
It's for the north, head south, head east, head west
Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggaz who rides the best

Do y'all niggaz bust y'all guns, hell, yeah we bust our guns
Do you fuck them 'till they cum, damn right we make them cum
It's for the north, head south, head east, head west
Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggaz who rides the best

In the late night, we be cockin' high givin' you stage fright
Yo' head might explode when I bust with the lead pipe
And I say right, Juvenile hey tight, stay hype, now page mike
And make sure he got all the yeah, aight?

I'm tired of niggaz be thinkin' that you usin' me
Runnin' with them petty ass niggaz lookin' like fools to me
I'm workin' wit some change, yeah
And ain't afraid to put 50 up on ya brain, yeah

You 'bout warin' over ya people I'm the same, yeah
Look, I'ma have some body sayin' thats the shame game
But if them people come they ain't gonna give no names, yeah
Playin' with the number one son don't play no games, yeah

Come outside don't see nothin' but camouflage and bricks
Yo' get some boys strapped with bandannas tryin' knock off yo' shit
Ya stankin' bitch, I ruff ryde your ass then
Cashin' for money Juve ain't gettin' nothin', that shit is funny

Do y'all niggaz bust y'all guns, hell, yeah we bust our guns
Do you fuck them 'till they cum, damn right we make them cum
It's for the north, head south, head east, head west
Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggaz who rides the best

Do y'all niggaz bust y'all guns, hell, yeah we bust our guns
Do you fuck them 'till they cum, damn right we make them cum
It's for the north, head south, head east, head west
Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggaz who rides the best

When my niggaz get knocked we gonna bail them out
When it come to my gun my shells is out
You better get the message 'cause I done mailed it out
I'ma bang like a hammer and I'ma nail us out

East, west the right this for my niggaz up north
My guns made in China so you better dust off
'Cause when they getcha you gonna be ketchup
I always got chedder I never ass bet ya'

And I won't even sweat ya' we roll much larger and better
My dough is never low but if drag is down on his last
I'ma reach in my sweater bet my baretta
Make a nigga feel heat in cold weather

Can't stand a nigga hype throw me his bitch
Bitch come to my shit you betta come get her
Be like a dog with a bone I run with her
Y'all make me so tired y'all niggaz still rappin'

Like y'all don't know my flows fire
Y'all ain't got y'all boots ain't got y'all suits
Probaly got a gun that ain't never shoot
When they come you better hope they don't name you

'Cause like two sticks rubbin' I'll flame you
Don't try to be me 'cause I ain't you
'Fore I have your spirits with the angels
My shorty keep a gun on the ankles

Wanna fuck, watch out she will bang you
'Cause I taught her well, y'all players better haul to hell
But you niggaz couldn't borrow a belt
Who evers wit you is gonna jail

Is you niggaz bustin' guns or you ain't bustin' none, ha
You want to fuck'em till they cum, ha
Drag-on Juvenille double up what you want, ha

Do y'all niggaz bust y'all guns, hell, yeah we bust our guns
Do you fuck them 'till they cum, damn right we make them cum
It's for the north, head south, head east, head west
Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggaz who rides the best

Do y'all niggaz bust y'all guns, hell, yeah we bust our guns
Do you fuck them 'till they cum, damn right we make them cum
It's for the north, head south, head east, head west
Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggaz who rides the best

Do y'all niggaz bust y'all guns, hell, yeah we bust our guns
Do you fuck them 'till they cum, damn right we make them cum
It's for the north, head south, head east, head west
Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggaz who rides the best

Do y'all niggaz bust y'all guns, hell, yeah we bust our guns
Do you fuck them 'till they cum, damn right we make them cum
It's for the north, head south, head east, head west
Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggaz who rides the best

Play the MP3 online for free!

7742082dbdbfc8ec486b8fe6be2b9036

Down Bottom - Lyrics - Ryde Or Die Vol.1 - Dmx

Title: Down Bottom
Album: Ryde Or Die Vol.1
Artist: Dmx
Composer(s): Mel Jason Smalls, Truis Grey, Kasseem Dean

Lyric:
Oh, damn now bop to this oh
Yeah y'all know what this is
Flame on Juvenile Drag-On flame on
And now swizz, swizz beatz, yeah

Me and my niggaz done licked shots, even done hit cops
Bet y'all niggaz can't wait till my shit drop
Treat you like your moma given' lip to pop
Nigga you don't want my paper drop

'Cause that means I'm empty, and your full of it
Check what the bullet did, missiles gonna hit you get you
Rip through tissue, should have never rhymed this 'cause I miss you
I make plus cash y'all little niggaz can't fuck wit drag

Got the chain out so it's bust and grab
Nigga fuck that you better bust back
'Fore ya nigga ask back where the vest at
Rock like a girl but you can't trust cash

Spit like a fire but you can't touch black
All you can do is cuss back and read back
How you bust gats nigga we don't need that
I don't care about your feed back, y'all niggaz don't feed drag

Tell a motherfucker pull out bust a bullet out in ya safe house
Nigga where the keys at nigga?
Where the stash at nigga? Where the weed at?
Nigga pass that 'fore I pull my trigger

Mater fact where the ass at? 'Cause I got the Ruff Ryders
And I aint talkin' bout my niggaz
Nigga we can go hoe for hoe, toe to toe, blow for blow
And when you fell your nose crack

That mean I broke that I'm fittin' to po-po
Wit a flame thrower like I told yo' befo', ya know
You can't handle it you can put me on wax but my fire burn candles
And who that nigga ruff rydin' Drag-On y'all niggaz and south siders

Do y'all niggaz bust y'all guns, hell, yeah we bust our guns
Do you fuck them 'till they cum, damn right we make them cum
It's for the north, head south, head east, head west
Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggaz who rides the best

Do y'all niggaz bust y'all guns, hell, yeah we bust our guns
Do you fuck them 'till they cum, damn right we make them cum
It's for the north, head south, head east, head west
Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggaz who rides the best

In the late night, we be cockin' high givin' you stage fright
Yo' head might explode when I bust with the lead pipe
And I say right, Juvenile hey tight, stay hype, now page mike
And make sure he got all the yeah, aight?

I'm tired of niggaz be thinkin' that you usin' me
Runnin' with them petty ass niggaz lookin' like fools to me
I'm workin' wit some change, yeah
And ain't afraid to put 50 up on ya brain, yeah

You 'bout warin' over ya people I'm the same, yeah
Look, I'ma have some body sayin' thats the shame game
But if them people come they ain't gonna give no names, yeah
Playin' with the number one son don't play no games, yeah

Come outside don't see nothin' but camouflage and bricks
Yo' get some boys strapped with bandannas tryin' knock off yo' shit
Ya stankin' bitch, I ruff ryde your ass then
Cashin' for money Juve ain't gettin' nothin', that shit is funny

Do y'all niggaz bust y'all guns, hell, yeah we bust our guns
Do you fuck them 'till they cum, damn right we make them cum
It's for the north, head south, head east, head west
Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggaz who rides the best

Do y'all niggaz bust y'all guns, hell, yeah we bust our guns
Do you fuck them 'till they cum, damn right we make them cum
It's for the north, head south, head east, head west
Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggaz who rides the best

When my niggaz get knocked we gonna bail them out
When it come to my gun my shells is out
You better get the message 'cause I done mailed it out
I'ma bang like a hammer and I'ma nail us out

East, west the right this for my niggaz up north
My guns made in China so you better dust off
'Cause when they getcha you gonna be ketchup
I always got chedder I never ass bet ya'

And I won't even sweat ya' we roll much larger and better
My dough is never low but if drag is down on his last
I'ma reach in my sweater bet my baretta
Make a nigga feel heat in cold weather

Can't stand a nigga hype throw me his bitch
Bitch come to my shit you betta come get her
Be like a dog with a bone I run with her
Y'all make me so tired y'all niggaz still rappin'

Like y'all don't know my flows fire
Y'all ain't got y'all boots ain't got y'all suits
Probaly got a gun that ain't never shoot
When they come you better hope they don't name you

'Cause like two sticks rubbin' I'll flame you
Don't try to be me 'cause I ain't you
'Fore I have your spirits with the angels
My shorty keep a gun on the ankles

Wanna fuck, watch out she will bang you
'Cause I taught her well, y'all players better haul to hell
But you niggaz couldn't borrow a belt
Who evers wit you is gonna jail

Is you niggaz bustin' guns or you ain't bustin' none, ha
You want to fuck'em till they cum, ha
Drag-on Juvenille double up what you want, ha

Do y'all niggaz bust y'all guns, hell, yeah we bust our guns
Do you fuck them 'till they cum, damn right we make them cum
It's for the north, head south, head east, head west
Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggaz who rides the best

Do y'all niggaz bust y'all guns, hell, yeah we bust our guns
Do you fuck them 'till they cum, damn right we make them cum
It's for the north, head south, head east, head west
Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggaz who rides the best

Do y'all niggaz bust y'all guns, hell, yeah we bust our guns
Do you fuck them 'till they cum, damn right we make them cum
It's for the north, head south, head east, head west
Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggaz who rides the best

Do y'all niggaz bust y'all guns, hell, yeah we bust our guns
Do you fuck them 'till they cum, damn right we make them cum
It's for the north, head south, head east, head west
Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggaz who rides the best

Play the MP3 online for free!

78948fce1373f0663919defb5af09a15

Street Kings - Lyrics - Untold Story - Game

Title: Street Kings
Album: Untold Story
Artist: Game
Composer(s): Joseph Tom, Davon Brown, Ivory Collins, Damon Morris, Quincy Bailey, Jayceon Taylor

Lyric:
Fuck it, yo, who the best MC on the west?
By far it's me and in my car is a continental tea
And my broad in that continental suite
With the armadillo rollin' up dutches like that motherfuckers

Beef with the kid, click clack, motherfuckers
Let them bullets burn your six pack, motherfuckers
Get jacked, motherfucker, when you come to Compton
Get a mack, motherfucker, when you come to Compton

I walk through Times Square holdin' my Johnson
A cross style Jada make a run threw Yonkers
I got D-blocks like the locks and these glocks like to pop
And nigga I like your watch, so roll over, you can die with the jury

First nigga, take the stand to testify he gonna die with the jury
And I might kidnap the judge or send a team
To lean on the prosecutors so the DA budge
I got niggas that'll ride for a grand

So handover my rock like Earl Manson
You can die where you stand
You got his back you can die with your man
I'll let you jog for about 30 seconds then you gunned down

You know this GL shit we got G's on the line
Or G's on the squad, all week on the grind
And if you doubt that step up, 'cuz we ain't hard to find
Street kings in our prime you want us then come and try us

You know this GL shit we got G's on the line
Or G's on the squad all week on the grind
And if you doubt that step up, 'cuz we ain't hard to find
Street kings in our prime, you want us then come and try us

I'm a take it to the next, take it to a motherfuckin' neck
Pull up on a nigga holdin' triggers and techs
We droppin' square beads, you easy to read
This is the end of the road for whole ass MC's

Smoke grass by the pound, glock holds 17 rounds
And the flow'll knock any nigga down
Rap you like a burrito come threw and kill you and your people
Said them that I shitted on you nigga like I was a flock of seagulls

Infrared beam like a traffic jam at night
Handle any man in sight with his hands upon a mic
Wanna light, I got the torch, California up north
For any nigga puttin' flamed on a Porches and never drive on

Bitch, you're gonna die on
San Quinton for and five catch a live one
Bust shots at the clouds, so we can shine some
Get up off your ass and nigga and grind some

You know this GL shit, we got G's on the line
Or G's on the squad all week on the grind
And if you doubt that step up, 'cuz we ain't hard to find
Street kings in our prime you want us then come and try us

You know this GL shit we got G's on the line
Or G's on the squad, all week on the grind
And if you doubt that step up, 'cuz we ain't hard to find
Street kings in our prime we're touching the streets grinds

Flash fuckers on the tip of the gat
You can put on flat but I'll kill that, I'll open you up like a mat
Even if you heard at I squirted and murdered a man
And these new school nigga talk like we heard of them plans

Seventy-two times 36 millimeters in your mini van
Gettin' off on you nigga and your mini-mans
Only thing runnin' is blood nigga so we gettin' grand
So we will bust your head, nigga, straight through your hand

Or get off in yo ass nigga like Jackie Chan
And when it's all said and done it's a one will stand
Gunnin' this motorbike, feelin' this power man
A 185 miles per hour, man, I stay co-relatin' with the Taliban
I show up, show up, show up, show up

Niggaz talk about money, they forgot the struggle
Playas paint a perfect picture, they forgot the hustle
Pieces of a puzzle, guzzlin' pints, watchin' the moonlight
Turn to sunlight, street more gun fights, penitentiary kites

Seen a man turn to mice than mice turn to man
See my nigga take the stand turn my other mans hand
Got me nauseous in my abdomen, got me servin' grams again
Grams rapped in rubber bands, 22's on them rubbers bands

Slow rollin, 'dro blowin', I'm gettin' rich you see my fro growin'
Ho's knowin' I pimp them to the fullest, respect a gangsta
You can shoot but I eat bullets, I shit missiles
And my eyeballs look like crystals, my shits official
It's more humaro Merofrista

Yo, yo, it's Luke and everything I sit on fat
Niggaz be like oh shit, how a nigga shit on that?
You wanna see me shit on and grit on tracks
Glock with the red paint, puttin' it on hat
Talk about the real thing not the 760

The reason that they took the fair team to get me
You don't want it with my dogs, you got teeni guys
I mean itsy bitsy little bitty weeni guys
I done seen them guys bought as big as my gats
And they ain't even got enough strength to squeeze on that

You want real hard core shit I be's on that
Cop the XLT you put threes on that, put cheese on hats
When luchi seeks squeeze on gats we even leave these on flat
G's messin' low they got g's on that and have
How your momma outside screamin' "Please don't clap"

You know this GL shit we got G's on the line
Or G's on the squad, all week on the grind
And if you doubt that step up, 'cuz we ain't hard to find
Street kings in our prime we're touching the streets grinds

You know this GL shit we got G's on the line
Or G's on the squad, all week on the grind
And if you doubt that step up, 'cuz we ain't hard to find
Street kings in our prime you want us then come and try us

You know this GL shit we got G's on the line
Or G's on the squad, all week on the grind
And if you doubt that step up, 'cuz we ain't hard to find
Street kings in our prime we're touching the streets grinds

You know this GL shit we got G's on the line
Or G's on the squad, all week on the grind
And if you doubt that step up, 'cuz we ain't hard to find
Street kings in our prime you want us then come and try us

Play the MP3 online for free!

ff2a9b01b9f9a4fcfcbf11899a0916b0

No Sunshine - Lyrics - Kid Frost

Title: No Sunshine
Artist: Kid Frost
Composer(s): Arturo Jr Molina, Bill Withers

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

Lyric:
What is time?
Time is when a man is trying to make time with your woman
But you're doing time behind bars and your time is standing still
Yo, Frost, kick it to these people for real you know what I'm saying?

Time, sifts through the hourglass, through night and day
And I watch as the games people play
It's like do unto others than split
And if you can't back up what you say then you ain't shit
(Yeah)

I've seen the manifestations of the street
So I can manifest what I've seen on a drum beat
Like just last night
(Yo, what happened?)

I watched these two vatos get in a crazy fight
One of them was quick to pull a knife
He stabbed him in the heart and now he's doing life
In prison at the age of 21
(Yeah)

Living on death row 'cause he couldn't let go
Caught in the web of violence
(Damn)
Roll deep when they creep and move in silence of the lambs
(Yo)
A tattooed tear dropped as the iron gates slam

Ain't no sunshine, ain't no sunshine
Ain't no sunshine, ain't no sunshine
Ain't no sunshine, anytime, hey
Ain't no sunshine, ain't no sunshine
Ain't no sunshine, ain't no sunshine
Ain't no sunshine, anytime

Damn, damn ain't that a shame?
You're lost so take the caution don't play the game
Should've listen to the Frost when I was trying to come across to you
But no you didn't think
(Sucker)

You just keep getting yourself more deep until you sink
So there's no one else to thank but yourself
So go ahead take bow for a job well done
But you'll never see the day of the sunshine or the fun times

Just the old days and your old ways
Corrupt and wicked
Out there doing dirt, instead of just kicking it
Pow pow, bang bang and all that noise
(Yeah)

Yeah, you and all your homeboys
Take time to read between the lines
'Cause ain't no sunshine

Ain't no sunshine, ain't no sunshine
Ain't no sunshine, ain't no sunshine
Ain't no sunshine, anytime, hey
Ain't no sunshine, ain't no sunshine
Ain't no sunshine, ain't no sunshine
Ain't no sunshine, anytime

(Yo, Kid)
I know about being macho
Calling the shots the big time head honcho
(Yeah)

But here's something even more gacho
One of my homeboys is your old lady's Sancho
Yo, shit happens
A number lights up on his beeper right as I'm rapping

While you sit in a cell writing a letter
Saying when you get out, your things will be better
(Right)
But man she couldn't wait so she's going out on a date

With every Tom, Dick and Harry
And if you ask me, your shit's getting scary
So how you gonna handle this
When your ho's in Los Angeles, acting so scandalous?

Yo, you can't blame her you didn't take the time
And now, ain't no sunshine

Ain't no sunshine, ain't no sunshine
Ain't no sunshine, ain't no sunshine
Ain't no sunshine, that's for you, '92
You know what I'm saying? Anytime, yeah
Ain't no sunshine, ain't no sunshine
Ain't no sunshine, ain't no sunshine
Ain't no sunshine, anytime, damn

So if you don't wanna do no time
You better take time to try to draw the line
You know what I'm saying?
Or you're gonna be the next fool in line doing time
You know what I'm saying? Like my man said

Ain't no sunshine, ain't no sunshine fool
Ain't no sunshine, ain't nothing happening up there
You know what I'm saying? Ain't no sunshine, anytime
Yo, me and Frost is out of here, peace

There just ain't no sunshine

Play the MP3 online for free!

c0fb5b5d4078dd4d3fe44bcb3301c504

Trapped On The Dance Floor - Lyrics - Will Smith

Title: Trapped On The Dance Floor
Artist: Will Smith
Composer(s): Marston E. Freeman, J Mccall, C Abrahms, Willard C. Smith, Don Abrams, Jeffrey Townes, S Crudup

Lyric:
You're trapped on the dance floor
It's locked, there's no escape
There's no eat, no drink, can't take a break
No seat to sit down, you gotta stand up

The record on the wheel reacts like a handcuff
You're in a cage and this groove will bound you
People in the club like bars around you
The doors open up and the people are boarding

Here are the prisoners, the DJ is the warden
Your mind is useless, instinct takes control
Jam to techno, groove to soul to soul
You been arrested, now you're being tested

The beat is a sex fiend, you're being molested
Stead drum kicks like pistol in spinal
You gotta dance and get round like a Rhino
The DJ cuts with a knife like a surgery

Sayin' that the slice ain't nice that's perjury
The music infiltrates you, mutates you
Grabs you, holds you, moulds you and let you
Do things you wouldn't-a otherwise done

Like shake, rattle, roll, pump, twist and then some
Ain't no law here, you can't protest this
Stop looking around, it ain't no oasis
You can't leave till the man pulls the needle

Take that as a warning
Take heed or I'll quicken the pitch and make you dance faster
The drum is the whip, bass line is the master
The temperature's a 100 and yet you still want more
You're a slave and you're trapped on the dance floor

Oh oh I'm trapped like a [unverified]
I can't get out
Can't you see I'm trapped?
Can't you see I'm so confused?
I can't get out

Now you're wondering lost in a jungle
You came in hyped up but now you're humble
Bringing out sweat in your silky wet clothes
You scream for help, blend in with the [unverified] and hoes

You try to sit but there ain't no spaces
The floor is a desert, a party oasis
I know you're on the tip for the rhyme I just did
And here's a little taste of my homeboy, El Sid

Ay a Prince it's the El Sid's version
I'm a raid on the track, I'm a hip-hop surgeon
The floor is jam-packed get away from the bar scene
The strum of the drum has you trapped like a sardine

You try to move no form of escape
The heat brings on sweat, stick on like tape
Party's like a [unverified]
Girls slim and trim on the floor, don't try to shoot for the door

This ain't the gym
The party goers every night had a scene
This mic try to respond but still trapped like in Venus
Ain't a spiff or a spoof, boy you better not goof
You about to cave in although you ain't on a roof

The rhythm track from offside's to angles
Playing the wimp fight resist strangle
You can't escape until the DJ's fingers up
So play like a phone or coat and just hang it up

The speakers pumping out sounds and hip words
Lines between the rhythm designed to equip nerds
You better jam we don't care if you hardcore
'Cause we got you trapped on the dance floor

Oh oh I'm trapped like a [unverified]
I can't get out
Can't you see I'm trapped?
Can't you see I'm so confused?
I can't get out

Oh oh I'm trapped like a [unverified]
I can't get out
Can't you see I'm trapped?
Can't you see I'm so confused?
I can't get out

Me and Prince got together just to kick our lines
No trouble at the party 'cause we're strapped with nines
Dance floor secure, don't bother tryin' to get out
You looking for the late AM this man pull red out

Nobody cause killing is mean
Got ya dancin' in the dark and dressed like Springsteen
Razzamatazz a pasazz about to rip the flesh is my man Jazz Fresh
Soon as I worked through the door I got trapped on the dance floor

See this girlie that I never saw, she was looking raw
Came a little closer then I opposed her
Then I drop the fox trot so hot that I roast her
[Unverified] planes in the damn chain, hard to explain

I did it up like I was straight outta Soul Train
Listen as I discuss this yo bust this
Like a hammer before me you can't touch this
Trapped on the floor like a vulture, part of my culture

You may even thought I was drived to faulter
Get live like a [unverified] jack that fives you the window main [unverified]
Add a little mic and Janet you can't understand it
'Cause [unverified] thought I was from another planet

Way of whipping and dipping
And sliding [unverified] of what I'm providin'
Other dancers go and hide
Like Charles [unverified] I'm prancin'

I keep the dance all night until, the party's over, the party's over
Like a cowboy at a rodeo
From mister mister dosie doe around the dance floor
Steppin' the new hardcore, I'm Jazz Fresh and I'm trapped

Oh oh I'm trapped like a [unverified]
I can't get out
Can't you see I'm trapped?
Can't you see I'm so confused?
I can't get out

Max up to step up just to keep this rap up
The time that he possesses the best in a contest
Jeff with his right and left like Jazz Fresh
No other than the brother the lover Jazzy Jeff

I'm the one dance floor at the station
[Unverified] time around quarter to ten
Times work hard, the customers scarred
Your tickets to freedom, yo you ain't gonna need 'em

Your sentence is 25 years to life
A [unverified] is your husband and wife
Trapped behind the steel, the steel of the wheels
Don't come to the party if you don't wanna know how business feels

I walk strong carry a big stick
Sell myself all packed and thick
When they sound the drum you know it's time to roll
Might as well have fun there's no parol

I set a trap and caught you like a mouse
For times ahead no chance for a halfway house
Pump the bass in all sections
Prince, Sid, and jazz my officers of correction

Cant' escape the floor cut the crime out
[Unverified] wall ain't no use tryin' to climb out
'Cause I'm running this show and it's live in here
You try to escape another five years

I got you trapped and I'm your savior
You dance real hard you might get out on good behavior
But if you don't I give you more
'Cause DJ Jazzy Jeff got you trapped on the dance floor

Oh oh I'm trapped like a [unverified]
I can't get out
Can't you see I'm trapped?
Can't you see I'm so confused?
I can't get out

Oh oh I'm trapped like a [unverified]
I can't get out
Can't you see I'm trapped?
Can't you see I'm so confused?
I can't get out

Play the MP3 online for free!

3b10931cd0a45de867aadeee2a0df967

My Turn - Lyrics - Yeeeah Baby - Big Punisher

Title: My Turn
Album: Yeeeah Baby
Artist: Big Punisher
Composer(s): A West, Leshan Lewis, C Rios

Lyric:
Uhh, it's my turn, y'know what I mean?
Get this motherfuckin' money y'know, shit
Yeah, I went double, y'know?
Niggaz goin triple, five, ten platinum
Can't do what I do
This is my game, this is me, y'know?

Yo, it's my turn, I demand my respect
Give me my burn or get slammed in your neck
'Cause it's my turn I'ma reach to the top
Gimme my burn, I'ma speak with the glock
'Cause it's my turn, don't make me turn your wig
Gimme my burn, don't make me burn yo' crib
I'ma rhyme it right and keep the ghetto in a trance
But when the time is right, me and the Devil gonna dance

Fuck you and yours, make way, I'm comin' through the door
And screw the law, breakin' the rules ain't nothin' new at all
I'm true to all the shit that I done, check the clip in my gun
Respect the click that I'm from or get lifted and stunned
Dunn, you just a small fry, fuckin' with the fall guy
Big Pun, The Honorable, all rise
Sky's the limit, nuttin' less if my guys is in it
For the right price, even Christ could get it

Fast life we live it, all my memories are vivid
I remember only minutes
That's how I mentally get rid of all the enemies
The spirits that definitely mimic my every melody
And lyric which so heavenly rhythmic
In magic do I build but math do be equally compatible
And secretively battle you to reach my peak in equilateral
I'm from the streets deep in the bottom yo ain't no Mario Brothers
Official Bronx niggaz, quick to body yo' mother

Yo, it's my turn, I demand my respect
Give me my burn or get slammed in your neck
'Cause it's my turn I'ma reach to the top
Gimme my burn, I'ma speak with the glock
'Cause it's my turn, don't make me turn your wig
Gimme my burn, don't make me burn yo' crib
I'ma rhyme it right and keep the ghetto in a trance
But when the time is right, me and the Devil gonna dance

Jesus H. Christ, how many times I gotta pay the price?
You scared to death I'll make you twice as afraid of life
I bring sight to the game for every night you complained
You couldn't see the light, I was bright in your brain
Ignitin' the flame, keepin' your third lid
Speak and observe with the mind
What are blind sleep till they worth shit

I'm earth wind and fire, the first one to fire
Reppin' T. Squad since birth till I retire
I wire your jaw, wire the walls with plastique explosives
And riot the halls at the malls where all the crackers live
Keep flappin' yo' gibs and I'ma come back with those kids
From the back of the bridge
I think two and touch means tackle the bitch

I rap for the chips but I'm truly assassin'
Four hundred pounds, six feet tall, brutally handsome
That's the pro, got beef with pun, you gots to go
Mafia style, tear you a new asshole
Flash your dough but you too cool for the captain
'Cause I don't give a fuck if I was quadruply platinum
And to the 50 Cent rapper, very funny, get your nut off
'Cause in real life, you don't know
I'll blow your motherfuckin' head off

That's my motherfuckin' word, you understand?
Thought we was a fuckin' joke, shit
Terror Squad nigga, you don't know me
You don't know my name, don't say it, you understand?
Told you before I ain't no motherfuckin' rapper understand?

Shit, I don't make no songs about rappers I don't like
If I'ma make a song
It's gonna be how I beat yo' motherfuckin' ass understand?
That'll be the name of the motherfucker
That's why I had to beat your motherfuckin' ass
Featuring Tony Sunshine, T. Squaders, T. Squaders, T. Squaders

Yo, it's my turn, I demand my respect
Give me my burn or get slammed in your neck
'Cause it's my turn, I'ma reach to the top
Gimme my burn, I'ma speak with the glock
'Cause it's my turn, don't make me turn your wig
Gimme my burn, don't make me burn yo' crib
I'ma rhyme it right and keep the ghetto in a trance
But when the time is right, me and the Devil gonna dance

Play the MP3 online for free!

b8376e98737ea2253e9cb94abf216f0f

Mourn You Til I Join You - Lyrics - Greatest Hits: Naughty's Nicest - Naughty By Nature

Title: Mourn You Til I Join You
Album: Greatest Hits: Naughty's Nicest
Artist: Naughty By Nature
Composer(s): Keir Gist, Vincent Vinnie Brown, Anthony Criss

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

Lyric:
It's gonna be alright, you gotta believe dat

Dear God times are changing and the weather got hot
Over the past year a lot of niggas went pop drop
So I thank you for my life and all that I got
I wanna praise you and drop off a message to Pac

I was sittin' here lookin' at your picture my nigga
Puttin' hash with the weed wit a mixture of liquor
We can't kick it you ain't wit us is the shit I can't figure
Nigga I miss ya this thug gonna miss ya till I'm wit cha'

It was 90 on the P.E. tour when we mashed down
Doesn't even seem like 7 years passed
Both rodies now homies out the hood on the scene
You did the Humpty with the u I did the walk wit the queen

Was a dream smokin' and drinkin?
Stealin' backstage passes to hit ho's and coleseums
[Unverified] the flip up make them lift they shit up
Get it the get up lift the trix up and switch up

Think of all the times that I rolled wit mine
Male groupies got dissed and got the hell out of dodge
They was blinded when the good shined through they were on you
Just know I'm gonna mourn you till I join you

Ashes to ashes and dust to dust
I hope you here me now in God we trust
Even all the prayers can't bring you back to us
I'll mourn you 'til I join you 'cause I'll keep in touch

Ashes to ashes and dust to dust
I hope you here me now in God we trust
Even all the prayers can't bring you back to us
I'll mourn you 'til I join you 'cause I'll keep in touch

We was two lil' niggas both skinny and broke
Happy if we scrap pennies for smokes
Tours over we were out yeah and you called with the news
You was over in New York to film this movie called juice

Called you back up you told me pack up
Me and you and stretch could shack up
The thug luv back up the act up
Shock G and Hakeem would call and fuss
'Cause they know we all kicked up dust

You remember when the cabby said daddy wouldn't pick up our race
You beat his ass then you spit in his face
I remember on the set from the trailer feens stole your jewels
And Big Stretch punched him out his shoes

Back then I was taken stashes quick who holdin'
That's when every piece of bud I was rolen was stolen
We would laugh at the jacks over six packs and yacks
Spit the emos over demos thinkin' ladies and lemos

You was a wild motherfucker who could never sit still
Said you wouldn't rest until you saw a mill
Nigga I felt you
We was back an forth borough to projects for forts

Damn I wish they knew how much you loved New York
Shit and can't nobody dis my nigga
Mothafuck that I miss my nigga
I'm a mourn you 'til I join you

You ain't got to worry about how long I'm gonna mourn ya
I'm gonna keep your name on the streets

Ashes to ashes and dust to dust
I hope you here me now in God we trust
Even all the prayers can't bring you back to us
I'll mourn you 'til I join you 'cause I'll keep in touch

Ashes to ashes and dust to dust
I hope you here me now in God we trust
Even all the prayers can't bring you back to us
I'll mourn you 'til I join you 'cause I'll keep in touch

I'm ya true motherfucker thug nation alert
Keep his name on the street 'til ya lay in the dirt
This shit hurts 'cause we went from poor to rich
You're supposed to see a lot more than this

They brought you up locked you up when you did above the rim
They let you out you called us up we came as thugs again
We were here ah ha rapist they shout
Y'all was talkin' shit that y'all didn't know a damn thang 'bout

You was going through your stress while your enemies laughed
Ain't never take no shit and Tupac never took no ass
Fuck the press fuck the world life goes on when you die
Fuck the judge fuck the court and every bitch that lied

A little time ticked by, my ho and I got rocked
My lady waking me up yelling Treach, Pac got shot
Soon as I get there I find Afeni urgin' me
Think I missed my baby, don't leave after surgery

So I'm lookin' in her eyes while they walkin' me through
Thinking Pac hard head what the hell I'm a do
So we kicked it as they stayed and I asked what you need
You say a pound for comin' nigga and a hit of some weed

So I asked you not to go over and over God knows
You done smiled and said nigga help me get on my clothes
So we got over that, you held up got locked
[Unverified] they had you caged when I stopped

Yeah, the chain remains plus you a part of my link
They fucked up by givin' you too much time to think
I remember your release and we met up in L.A.?
At the [unverified] gettin' blazed hand me down with the hay

After that you blew up a made nigga platinum plus
Addicted to drama a soldier with a nation of thugs
Now we in these savage ages
Even yourself predicted that last night in Vegas

I heard gats were brandished, my nigga once again damaged
And a part of his heart right here in Venice
At the same time you was both loved and feared
M.O.B. and fuckin' thug of the year
I'm a mourn you 'til I join you

Ashes to ashes and dust to dust
I hope you here me now in God we trust
Even all the prayers can't bring you back to us
I'll mourn you 'til I join you 'cause I'll keep in touch

Ashes to ashes and dust to dust
I hope you here me now in God we trust
Even all the prayers can't bring you back to us
I'll mourn you 'til I join you 'cause I'll keep in touch

We'll mourn, that's what we'll do
We'll mourn, 'till we're with you

Play the MP3 online for free!

a4f3913584a372e29c47f3a6cd2a6285

Me Against Myself - Lyrics - Me Against Myself - Jay Sean

Title: Me Against Myself
Album: Me Against Myself
Artist: Jay Sean
Composer(s): Amit Bajaj, Veronica Metha, Kamaljit Singh Jhooti

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

Lyric:
Jay Sean versus Jay Sean
Me against myself
And there ain't no chorus
So just listen
Mentor

Oh, girl, you look so beautiful
With that moonlight shining on you
I wanna hold you
I wanna touch you and squeeze you
And love you all night long, oh, baby girl

Yo I've heard it before, so save all the cliches
I really can't believe there's no talent around these days
Jay Sean with the same old shit
Talking about baby girl that and baby girl this

I seen you dancing around with the girl in your vid
Pouting at the camera, smiling with the cheesiest grin
What the deal? Whatever happened to keeping it real?
Back in the day when you was rapping, before the time of your deal

And now you got signed, well, it's all clear and it's simple
You're only making music that you pretend that you're into
Come on dance with you was never a hit fool
And what the hell is taking you so long with your next single?
(Fix up)

Fix up? It's been about six months
And insults are everywhere
Even your own fans think your shit sucks
(I don't like Jay Sean)
And I know you pretend to ignore it
It's gotta hurt when you're even getting dissed on your own forum

Yeah, I've done my research back when you started for
Back when people thought you was the genuine article
Genuine my ass, you're just a wack imitation
The only thing different about you is the fact that you're Asian

Well, I guess it must've helped a bit
The fact that everything that has an Asian twist
Including music, I guess we're calling it
I'm surprised that Simon Cowell hasn't thought of it

And there's issues that I find myself being faced with
Being pigeon holed and accused of imitating
It's a struggle and it's so frustrating
Telling me I'm tryna be the Asian Craig David

And I bet that just had you in tears
Wasn't that the reason you ended up shaving your beard?
I guess you couldn't take the way people would mock that
So it was off with the jaw line and goodbye to the sock hat

But you still a bit of style with the fastest singing
On verse two of 'Dance with you'
Now you wonder why they couldn't slander you

Well, you say you done your research, baby
You didn't look hard enough, it needs updating
If you think that I'm copying Craig
Listen to my 1994 demo tape
I was fast rapping and singing back in the day
Back in the fush niggas and Big L phase

Whatever, it seems you sold your soul to the game
You're a fake 'cause Jay Sean ain't even your name
So how'd you come up with that? It ain't unique after all
What are you? Like a cross between Jay-Z and Sean Paul?

You're better off with the name you was born
You little pansy you really should have been called gay porn
So which one's your lover? Rishi Rich or Juggy D?
Probably Rishi, he sees you as his bitch, doesn't he?

Wasn't he the one responsible for launching your career?
Like a while ago, I'm talking like well over a year
You were studying medicine then, but you quit that now
To do music, how the hell did you manage to flip that 'round?

And how'd you tell your parents
You know how shit that sounds
"Mummy Daddy, I want to be a pop star"
"Sit back down"

But never the less, I quit, went ahead and progressed
Had my eyes on my goal and wouldn't settle for less
What do you mean?

You only got where you are 'cause of a gimmick
The whole Indian thing was big and you were luckily in it
And don't be upset if people don't come to your shows
They're not allowed out 'cause half of your fans are eleven year olds
(Jay Sean)

Wow, big deal you got to number 12
I'm not surprised If your mum brought half of the copies herself
You know what I'm tired man, I'm sick, I'm bored of you
Run off, you little puppet, I hear Rishi Rich calling you

I guess you talk the talk but you were rapping for years
And it was me who got your foot in the door
It seems that your ego has been suffering blows
'Cause you only get heard when you guest appear on my shows

I'm not phased, if it wasn't for me
You wouldn't be on this track in the first place

Play the MP3 online for free!

c132c24588e31efb3ac930ae32fcdf63