Ain'T That A Kick In The Head - Lyrics - Dean Martin

Title: Ain'T That A Kick In The Head
Artist: Dean Martin
Composer(s): Sammy Cahn, James Van Heusen

Lyric:
How lucky can one guy be?
I kissed her and she kissed me
Like a fella once said
"Ain't that a kick in the head?"

The room was completely black
I hugged her and she hugged back
Like a sailor said quote
"Ain't that a hole in a boat?"

My head keeps spinnin'
I got to sleep and keep grinnin'
If this is just the beginnin'
My life is gonna be beautiful

I sunshine enough to spread
It's just like the fella said
Tell me quick
Ain't that a kick in the head?

Like the fella once said
"Ain't that a kick in the head?"

Like the sailor said quote
"Ain't that a hole in a boat?"

My head keeps spinnin'
I got to sleep and keep grinnin'
If this is just the beginnin'
My life is gonna be beautiful

She's telling me we'll be wed
She's picked out a king size bed
I couldn't feel any better
Or I'll be sick

Tell me quick
Oh, ain't that a kick?
Tell me quick
Ain't that a kick in the head

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2ae34af4f3d9aa10d6af8498ac007c10

Bitches Ain'T Shit - Lyrics - The Chronic - Dr. Dre

Title: Bitches Ain'T Shit
Album: The Chronic
Artist: Dr. Dre
Composer(s): Tenaia Sanders, Jonathan H Smith, Dajuan L Walker, Colin Wolfe, Delmar Arnaud, Ricardo Brown, Cordozar Broadus, Nathaniel D Hale, Tracy Curry, Andre R Young

Lyric:
Bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks

Bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks
Lick on deez nutz and suck the dick
Get's the fuck out after you're done
And I hops in my [Incomprehensible] to make a quick run

Bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks
Lick on deez nutz and suck the dick
Get's the fuck out after you're done
And I hops in my [Incomprehensible] to make a quick run

I used to know a bitch named Eric Wright
We used to roll around and fuck the hoes at night
Tight than a mutharfucka with the gangsta beats
And we was ballin' on the muthafuckin' Compton streets

Peep, the shit got deep and it was on
Number 1 song after number 1 song
Long as my muthafuckin' pockets was fat
I didn't give a fuck where the bitch was at

But she was hangin' with a white bitch doin' the shit she do
Suckin' on his dick just to get a buck or 2
And the few ends she got didn't mean nothin'
Now she's suing 'cuz the shit she be doin' ain't shit

Bitch can't hang with the streets, she found herself short
So now she's takin' me to court
It's real conversation for your ass
So recognize and pass to Daz

Now, as I'm rollin' with my nigga Dre and Eastwood
Fuckin' hoes, clockin' dough up to no good
We flip flop and serve hoes like flap jacks
But we don't love them hoes, bitch and it's like that

This is what you look for in a hoe who got cash flow
Ya run up in them hoes and grab the cash
And get your dash on
While you're chillin', with your homies and shit
And how my niggaz kick the anthem like this, beyach

Bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks
Lick on deez nutz and suck the dick
Get's the fuck out after you're done
And I hops in my [Incomprehensible] to make a quick run

To the store, to get me a 4 0
Snoop Doggy Dogg paged that must mean more hoes
So I head down the street to long beach
Just so I could meet, a freak
To lick me from my head to my feet

And I'm here, now I'm ready to be done up
Nothin' but homies around so I puts my gun up
Bitches on my nuts like clothes
But I'm from the pound and we don't love them hoes

How could you trust a hoe?
'Cuz a hoe's a trick
I don't love them tricks
'Cuz a trick's a bitch
And my dick's constantly in her mouth
Turnin' them trick ass hoes the fuck out now

I once had a bitch named Mandy May
Used to be up in them guts like everyday
The pussy was the bomb, had a nigga on sprung
I was in love like a muthafucka lickin' the protung

The homies used to tell me that she wasn't no good
But I'm the maniac in black, Mr. Snoop Eastwood
So I figure niggaz wouldn't trip with mine
Guess what? Got gaffled by one time

I'm back to the muthafuckin' county jail
6 months on my chest, now it's time to bail
I get's released on a hot sunny day
My nigga D.O.C. and my homey Dr. Dre

Scooped in a coupe, Snoop, we got news
Your girl was trickin' while you was draped in your county blues
I ain't been out a second
And already gotta do some muthafuckin' chin checkin'

Move up the block as we groove down the block
See, my girl's house, Dre, pass the glock
Kick in the do', I look on the flo'
It's my little cousin Daz and he's fuckin' my hoe, yo

(Bitches ain't shit)
I uncocked my shit, I'm heart-broke but I'm still loc'ed
Man, fuck a bitch

Bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks
Lick on deez nutz and suck the dick
Get's the fuck out after you're done
And I hops in my [Incomprehensible] to make a quick run

Bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks
Lick on deez nutz and suck the dick
Get's the fuck out after you're done
And I hops in my [Incomprehensible] to make a quick run

(Bitches ain't shit)
I don't give a fuck about a bitch
(Bitches ain't shit)
But I and her know that they can't fade this

'Cuz I'm doin' my own thing
(Bitches ain't shit)
Down with the swang
I'm hangin' with Death Row like it ain't no thing

I say you know can't deal
(Bitches ain't shit)
'Cuz I'm a bitch that's real
Motherfucker need to step back, hell yeah
They need to chill

Because I don't give a fuck
(Bitches ain't shit)
And I don't give a fuck
And I don't give a fuck
I don't give a fuck

And now I gotta do some
I gotta do some shit that's clean
(Bitches ain't shit)
But when I'm on a dick, hell yeah, I get real mean
Like a washing machine
I can wash the clothes
All the hoes knows
That I'm on the flo' ho

But they can't hang with my type on swang
(Bitches ain't shit)
I ain't tryin' to say I suck every ding-a-lang
But just the juicy ones
With the tip of the tongue
And then their sprung
With the nuts hung
(Bitches ain't shit)

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12d95d765446d06a15928d9f8e0ce6b2

Show Business - Lyrics - A Tribe Called Quest

Title: Show Business
Artist: A Tribe Called Quest
Composer(s): Joe Kirkland, Skeffington V. Anselm, J Davis, Johnny Flippin, Derek Murphy, A Muhammad, Lorenzo Dechalus, Bill Curtis, Murphy Taylor

Lyric:
Let me tell you 'bout the snakes, the fakes, the lies
The highs at all of these industry shing-dings
Where you see the pretty girls
In the high animated world

Checkin' for a rapper with all the dough
If you take a shit, they want to know
And if you're gonna fall, they won't be around, y'all

So you still wanna do the show business?
And you think that you got what it takes?
I mean you really gotta rap and be all that
And prepare yourself for the breaks, check it out

Do you wanna be in the business? The business
The ups and downs with the hoes, the business
Always gettin' fronted on at shows, the business
People gotta stick their nose in the business

Yo, I gotta speak on the cesspool
It's the rap industry and it ain't that cool
Only if you're on stage or if you're speakin' to your people
Ain't no-one your equal

Especially on the industry side
Don't let the games just glide
Right through your fingers, you gotta know the deal
So Lord Jamar speak because you're real

They're givin' you the business and puttin' on a show
You're a million dollar man, that ain't got no dough
But you got a ho tickets, backstage to a show
Sedated and at that fact they elated

Time pass and your ass say, "Where's my loot?"
The reply is a kick in the ass from a leg and a boot
All you wanna do is taste the fruit
But in the back they're makin' fruit juice

You ask for slack and wanna get cut loose from the label
Not able 'cause you signed at the table
For a pretty cash advance, now they got a song and dance
That you didn't recoup, more soup wit' ya meal?
'Cause this is the real when you get a record deal and I say

Aw, shucks, look what the cat hauled in
It's Phife Dawg from A Tribe Called Quest, let me begin
Like Chuck D, I got so much trouble on my mind
'Bout these no-talent artists gettin' signed, they can't rhyme

And if that ain't bad, you got bootleggers
Goin' out like suckers, motherfuckers
Feel it's time that I let loose the lion
And if not that then I'll commence to head flyin'

Seems in '91 everybody want a rhyme
And then you go and sell my tape for only dollar 5.99
Please nigga, I've worked too hard for this
No more will I take the booty end of the stick

Bogus brothers makin' albums, when they know they can't hack it
'Cause they lyrics is played like 8-Ball jackets
Now tell me, I can't tear it up
Go get yourself some toilet paper 'cause your lyrics is butt

Do you wanna be in the business? The business
People can't walk a straight line in the business
Some of these brothers can't rhyme in the business
Aiyo, I'm tryna get mine, the business

The party scene is cool but then again it's all the same
You see the same faces but at different places
When you're up and ridin' high, everything is palsy-palsy
Get a million pounds and all the skins give you hugs

Well, that's cool, I can dig it, it really ain't my bag
Prefer to max on the side and let my pants sag
"Oh, he's a cutie", yeah, real cute
But I wasn't that cute when I didn't have no loot

Although I hit a pound of herbs, I'm still nice with the verbs
So fuck what you heard
The born cipher, cipher master makes me think much faster
But critics still continue to plaster

My name and discredit my fame
All that shit is game
And I don't really give a damn
Eat from the tree of life and throw away the verbal ham

Well, excuse me, I gotta add my two cents in
Don't be alarmed, the rhyme was condensed in
A matter of minutes, so it must be told
All that glitters' not gold

Everybody wants a deal, help me make a demo
See my name in bright lights, ride around in a limo
My moms keeps beefin', ?Boy, get a job"
But I wanna make jams, damn, I know I'll slam

Huh, well it's not that easy
You gotta get a label that's willin' and able
To market and promote and you better hope
For what? That the product is dope

Take it from Diamond, it's like mountain climbin'
When it comes to rhymin', you gotta put your time in
Get a good lawyer, so problems won't pile
You don't wanna make a pitch that's wild

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a421ec4a7bdfed54845d1515ebd226dc

Fuck That Nigga - Lyrics - Tha G-Code - Juvenile

Title: Fuck That Nigga
Album: Tha G-Code
Artist: Juvenile
Composer(s): Christopher Dorsey, Teruis Gray, Byron Thomas

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

Lyric:
We drink up all the round, we drink up all the white
We go to all the spots, we be up all the night
We'll tell a nigga 'Fuck ya' and be waitin' outside for him
Bust him up and see how many niggas gon' ride for him

Play the project bricks and watch for the law
Nigga come to my section we goin' to they section and ward
We rep hard out the wards in stolen cars
Spankin' niggas that be showin' off with they broads

Nigga catch a felony, he takin' his charge
Niggas turnin' state, we rapin' the boy
It's a hard life we livin', they 'bout they drama
We earn stripes for killin', I'll attack like a rhino

Some of the time motherfuckers be off they bases
Way out they boundary in unfamiliar places
Lookin' like a duck, seein' all the wrong faces
But we know the rules and could be strapped in SK's

Man, pop that nigga, man, kill that bitch
Man, shoot that nigga, man, spank that bitch
Man, down that nigga, execute that bitch
Put fifty rounds in that nigga is what'cha do that bitch

Man, pop that nigga, man, kill that bitch
Man, shoot that nigga, man, spank that bitch
Man, down that nigga, execute that bitch
Put fifty rounds in that nigga is what'cha do that bitch

Stay from 'round here, I tell ya these niggas ain't cool
Ain't no love for outsiders, everybody's a fool
We be duckin' off in the hallways and in the cuts
Gettin' the fuck when ATF is pullin' up

People in the projects say, "Them niggas ain't shit"
They hustle all night for brand new outfits
You're fuckin' right, that's how it is on the block
Real duck T-shirt, 'Bauds and Reebok's

Camouflage around the neck and the dome
Fucked up attitude totin' a big chrome
Fighting for weed, nigga ain't ever goin' home
Tryin' ta get it how he live with a bundle of [Incomprehensible]

We ain't tryin' ta see the jail house
But if we do we hope we be able to bail out
Know what I'm sayin', lil' daddy
We need a lick, come up in the whole brick
Kick in a nigga door and punish the whole clique

Man, pop that nigga, man, kill that bitch
Man, shoot that nigga, man, spank that bitch
Man, down that nigga, execute that bitch
Put fifty rounds in that nigga is what'cha do that bitch

Man, pop that nigga, man, kill that bitch
Man, shoot that nigga, man, spank that bitch
Man, down that nigga, execute that bitch
Put fifty rounds in that nigga is what'cha do that bitch

Come through the hood where ya hang with a K and when I see ya
What I'ma do to ya, I know I wouldn't wanna be ya
Split your head in half, nigga, leave ya stressed in the street
Hit ya everywhere in your body but under your feet

I play it raw when I'm in beef, I'm a hot boy that's heat
Get it how ya live is how it is where I be
Fuck a nigga's how I feel, no nigga steppin' on my toes
Without feelin' blockah, blockah from four fours

I'm a dog with a gun in my hand I cut loose
You're on the other end of that pistol, it's on you
Get hit up, chopped up, did somethin' awful
Zipped up, boxed up, put straight in a coffin

Ain't part of my clique, fuck ya nigga, don't please me
I don't love ya nigga, you're no good, playa
I don't trust ya, nigga
To me you ain't nuttin' but a bust nigga, what

Man, pop that nigga, man, kill that bitch
Man, shoot that nigga, man, spank that bitch
Man, down that nigga, execute that bitch
Put fifty rounds in that nigga is what'cha do that bitch

Man, pop that nigga, man, kill that bitch
Man, shoot that nigga, man, spank that bitch
Man, down that nigga, execute that bitch
Put fifty rounds in that nigga is what'cha do that bitch

Man, pop that nigga, man, kill that bitch
Man, shoot that nigga, man, spank that bitch
Man, down that nigga, execute that bitch
Put fifty rounds in that nigga is what'cha do that bitch

Man, pop that nigga, man, kill that bitch
Man, shoot that nigga, man, spank that bitch
Man, down that nigga, execute that bitch
Put fifty rounds in that nigga is what'cha do that bitch

Ya heard me
Put fifty rounds in that nigga's what'cha do that bitch
Fuck him, ya heard me, fuck his whole clique, nigga
Ya don't like me, I don't like you, nigga

You don't like me that mean you don't like my clique
I don't like you that mean I don't like you
The niggas ya fuck with, the niggas you affiliate with, ya heard me
Any nigga who speak to ya, nigga, back you up, nigga

Fuck you and all them too, nigga, ya heard me
It's Cash Money for life, ya heard me
Fuck all them old bitch ass niggas throwin' bricks [Incomprehensible]
It's real over here, nigga, ya heard me

We got this here and we holdin' this here down
Ya heard me, we gon' keep it like that, though, ya dig, nigga
Baby, Slim, Juvie, B.Geezy, Turk, Weezy, Fresh, ya heard me
Joe Casey, Travey ya heard me, all tha shots, nigga

We comin' through, nigga, we layin' it down, nigga
And we just doin' what we do, keepin' it real

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b1d724944f03c43372809fcfbc39bc0b

Pop That Cannon - Lyrics - Split Personality - Cassidy

Title: Pop That Cannon
Album: Split Personality
Artist: Cassidy
Composer(s): David Styles, Swizz Beatz Barry Reese, K Dean

Lyric:
Banger, let's go
Styles P, Cassidy
Full surface, listen
It's a rap for y'all

Look, homes behave, or get cut wit ya own blade
The chrome raise, put ya guts on ya own leg
Nigga I'm sick o' them full-blown AIDS
And my block got more rocks, than the stone age
You been afraid, you sweet like home made
Lemonade, if it's beef, then the chrome blaze
You could make the newspaper, with your own page
And make the news too, you know how my dudes do

We wear masks so you can't tell, who's who
And for the cash, we'll blast at you dudes too
Wit the lead pipe, so get ya head right
I'm in the Benz, rims, spin at the red light
I'm comin' for cash, gun in the dash
And I'm on 21 and a half's, for real cannon
I got my gat, I ain't walkin' without it
And I cock and clap, you just talkin' about it, nigga

Pop that Cannon, pop that Cannon
Pop that Cannon, pop that Cannon
It's whatever motherfuckas, I ain't scared
It's whatever motherfuckas, I ain't scared

So a pop that Cannon, pop that Cannon
Pop that Cannon, pop that Cannon
It's whatever motherfuckas, I ain't scared
It's whatever motherfuckas, I ain't scared

Niggaz is fly now, and everybody livin' a lie now
But shit feel different wit a gun in ya eyebrow
No fuckin' wit the Holiday Styles kid
Blow wit a ton of guns, and he got a hell of an outbid
Like Cosby in the hood, I knock the gelatin out shit
Organs on the floor of the van
'Cause you gotta show these faggot motherfuckas
That you more of a man

Y'all wanna fly like Mike, motherfuckas
So they won't find you, or your Jordans again
Take a boss to be ordered the men
Give them a call, don't have my money, in 24 hours
Then the cocksucka won't see his daughter again
It's like the movie that you seen, I'm the star of the screen
I got a roll for you to play, stand here
And take six to the face, I dug a hole for you today
Holiday Styles, killin' 20 soldiers in a day, what

Pop that Cannon, pop that Cannon
Pop that Cannon, pop that Cannon
It's whatever motherfuckas, I ain't scared
It's whatever motherfuckas, I ain't scared

So a pop that Cannon, pop that Cannon
Pop that Cannon, pop that Cannon
It's whatever motherfuckas, I ain't scared
It's whatever motherfuckas, I ain't scared

Ayo I use to pitch niks, now I spit rhymes
I'm a get mine, legit, or the quick grind
Shit, my whole clique commit crimes
Did time, been on the strip and grip nines
But I swear to you motherfuckas
I got my gun right here, I ain't scared of you motherfuckas
I'm a hustler, plus a check cutter
I stretch butter, and got EX, now that's gutter

I came for war, you know what them thangs is for
Slug make ya blood stain the floor
It ain't a game no more, niggaz gon' respect me
I grip gats, that kick back like Jet Li
So don't test me, or the boy S P
'Cause I ain't tryna get no fuckin' blood, on my fresh tee
You don't impress me, stop that Cannon
'Cause you could get rocked, when I pop that Cannon

Pop that Cannon, pop that Cannon
Pop that Cannon, pop that Cannon
It's whatever motherfuckas, I ain't scared
It's whatever motherfuckas, I ain't scared

So a pop that Cannon, pop that Cannon
Pop that Cannon, pop that Cannon
It's whatever motherfuckas, I ain't scared
It's whatever motherfuckas, I ain't scared

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c1647dc7ca856328cbe9d82431b12ead

Take It To The Head - Lyrics - Priceless - Kelly Price

Title: Take It To The Head
Album: Priceless
Artist: Kelly Price
Composer(s): Steven A. Jordan, Kelly Price, Keith Murray, Cory Jamaine Peterson

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

Lyric:
Ayo, I can't hold it in, I gotta let it out
Girl, I take your love to the head without a doubt
Listen baby, do you think you ready for the action?
I give chicks 'Butterflies' like Michael Jackson

I'm so immaculate, there's no equivalence
Treacherous, imperial, impertinent, impetuous
Come a little closer, let me kick it in your ear
Keith Murray, Kelly Price, take this to the head, yeah

Stepped in the room, I saw you
Instantly knew I had to
Present my game and keep it cool

Wanted so much to kiss you
To let you know I miss you
I just laid back and let you move
But you keep

Frontin' like you don't want me
And actin' like you don't need me
But it's okay ?cos that's just your way

There's a physical attraction
Cause a chemical reaction
So come on, boy, inhale, exhale

Breathe it in, breathe it out
Flyin? high ain't no doubt
I take it to the head yo' love

On a ride, in the clouds
Feelin' good, won't come down
I take it to the head yo' love

The time is right for romance
And I want you for my man
I know you want me for your girl, baby

Baby, I know you're willing
So let's not fight the feeling
Give it to me and rock my world
But still you keep

Frontin' like you don't want me
And actin' like you don't need me
But it's okay 'cos that's just your way

There's a physical attraction
Cause a chemical reaction
So come on, boy, inhale, exhale

Breathe it in, breathe it out
Flyin? high ain't no doubt
I take it to the head yo' love

On a ride, in the clouds
Feelin' good, won't come down
I take it to the head yo' love

Don't have to feel you
Just when I'm near where are you at
I get a contact, got my head spinnin'
I'm in whirlwind of your love
And it's got me all choked up

Yeah, you off the hook, rock you bananas tonight
I gotta push up 'cos that thing look right
Oh no, say it ain't true, say it ain't so
You frontin? on your man Murray, that's aight though

[Incomprehensible] got a cutter
Ripped a monkey *** like a hot knife rippin' through butter
Don't let nobody tell you different, you and I was meant to be
Gettin' busy most beautifully

I shall until I succeed
To spoon feed y'all and give you exactly what you need
So don't cheat yourself, treat yourself
And put that playa cool attitude up on the shelf and

Relax yourself and respect yourself and
Protect yourself and respect yourself
There's nothin' further more to discuss
Take this to the head and feel the rush

Breathe it in, breathe it out
Flyin? high ain't no doubt
I take it to the head yo' love

On a ride, in the clouds
Feelin' good, won't come down
I take it to the head yo' love

Breathe it in, breathe it out
Flyin? high ain't no doubt
I take it to the head yo' love
On a ride, in the clouds
Feelin' good, won't come down

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8389ceec68aabe6e2d5118e7e9ae1142

Get In Line - Lyrics - B.G.

Title: Get In Line
Artist: B.G.
Composer(s): Christopher Noel Dorsey, Terius Gray, Byron O. Thomas

Lyric:
One, two, three, kick it

Nigga know I hate his guts, so he don't cross my path
'Cause he know I've been survivin' all of the wars I had
Bitch-nigga called hisself killin' my dog
But he didn't, though, so I'm tyin' up him and his broad

Betta say somethin' and it betta be what I wanna hear
I'm listenin', scary bitches started shittin' and pissin'
You might see him on a milk carton, dog, he still missin'
Somebody might catch him up on a hook when they fishin'

Look, I've been itchin' to get bitches, money, and jewels
I know some nigga's got a package, I'ma run with the fool
Through the years older playaz told me to keep my head strong
'Cause niggas is followers, and some of 'em led wrong

But if I bust a cap in 'em, I will be dead wrong
They don't know what's happenin' and I ain't gonna say it to 'em
'Cause bitches be catchin' conversation inspectin'
And fuck up and give them people some bad information

Now point the nigga out if he wan' do it with me
Step to the front of the line, let me see who you be
Air and opportunity that ain't nothin' to me
Look, I got somethin' I'm totin' that'll cut you in three
(One, two, three, kick it)

You're a certified clown in my eyes
That's the reason why half of your hood got shit bags on your side
You talk a good game but you a ho when they ride
Nigga don't have to look for you, they know you inside

You probly got your tail in your ass, your thumb in your mouth
Protected custody so you don't come in your house
Motherfucker, where all the shit you said you was 'bout?
Let you tell it, you been 'bout bustin' heads in the south

Can't be fuckin' with no lame, fake
Ain't even gon' watch your back, nigga
Get popped, can't handle the pressure and rat, nigga
Take the whole clique down runnin' his lips
Can't come back in the bricks now, he'll get flipped

It's a cold game but I don't give a fuck, my nigga
I feel threatened by anybody, I'ma bust that nigga up my nigga
Then go get a mill, fuck my bitch
I take this game to heart, unless niggas disagree

Now point the nigga out if he wan' do it with me
Step to the front of the line, let me see who you be
Air and opportunity that ain't nothin' to me
Look, I got somethin' I'm totin' that'll cut you in three
(One, two, three, kick it)

I'm a lil' man, stand my ground no matter what
Glock glued to my hand, there's no one you can trust
Niggas turned on they own nigga behind Geez
If I think they won't turn on me, I'm outta luck

So I roll first, cock and shoot first
Gotta stay over the head to duck a T-shirt
You want beef? You want war? You want me?
Nothin' between us but air and opportunity

Don't talk 'bout what you gon' do, do it, nigga
'Cause you're wastin' your breath, go 'head, prove it, nigga
Shit's real, I ain't got time to fake
Time's money, I ain't got time to waste

But on the straight with me bein' real
To let others' niggas know I don't fake, ya gotta get killed
Oh, bitch-nigga playin' with a rich nigga like me
Ya wind up six feet, clown

Now point the nigga out if he wan' do it with me
Step to the front of the line, let me see who you be
Air and opportunity that ain't nothin' to me
Look, I got somethin' I'm totin' that'll cut you in three
(One, two, three, kick it)

Now point the nigga out if he wan' do it with me
Step to the front of the line, let me see who you be
Air and opportunity that ain't nothin' to me
Look, I got somethin' I'm totin' that'll cut you in three
(Kick it)

Now point the nigga out if he wan' do it with me
Step to the front of the line, let me see who you be
Air and opportunity that ain't nothin' to me
Look, I got somethin' I'm totin' that'll cut you in three

Step up, wherever the fuck you is, nigga
Don't throw a motherfuckin' brick
And hide your hand like a ol' pussy-ass, nigga
(One, two, three, kick it)

Come out to the light, nigga, let me see who you is?
You wan' do me somethin' or harm my kids, nigga, show your face
Make it known you're beefin' with me, know wh'I'm sayin'?

Ol' scary-ass nigga gon' hide, come out here, playa
Catch me all over New Orleans, nigga
On the block, in the hood, wherever
B.G., nigga, always on V.L. we gon' keep it real, know wh'I'm sayin'?

One, two, three, kick it
One, two, three, kick it

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f39364c6994ce7da311d902a47f36fa0

Hole In The Head - Lyrics - Cypress Hill - Cypress Hill

Title: Hole In The Head
Album: Cypress Hill
Artist: Cypress Hill
Composer(s): Louis Freeze, Lawrence Muggerud

Lyric:
Gangster Red, whassup yo? It's a Tribe thang

Madman gonna get cha, quick with the cuente
See a gang, no there ain't no jugate
Rollin' like a psycho with the windows rolled down
Who you lookin' at? You tryin' to fade me clown

Plato, si mon, you want static
When you reach for your gat to load your automatic
Boo-yaa, spittin' out buckshots
Homey say blood claat, so you can call a pig
'Cause no one could handle, I wind up and loco
Insane in the brain, you get the bullet

And a hole in your head, a hole in your fuckin' head
A hole in the head, a hole the head
You get a hole in the head, in your motherfuckin' head
A hole in the head, a hole in the head

Eight barrel pumpin', system thumpin'
See a fine heina, c'mon baby, jump in
I stop a cop, here let me tell you somethin'
Me and you, Bruca, we should be humpin'

If honey likes the mack, homey's got her in the bag
But there's vato's rollin' out, and they're stickin' up the flag
He jumps out with the sag, hey where ya from homes?
It's on, he sees him reachin' for his chrome

Buckshot to the dome, jumps in the Brome
Honey's in the back but she just wants to go home
But he trips to the store homeboy needs a forty white boy
At the counter's thinkin', oh Lordy, Lordy

Pushin' on the button, panickin' for nuttin'
Pigs on the way, aiyyo, he smells bacon
Dips out the store, one time hits the corner
And he hits the fuckin' alley like his homes was Pop Warner

Still had the forty, comin' at the alley
Seen the chief's son, pig officer, O'Malley
In the black and white thinkin' he's gonna check him right
Wrong, it's gonna be on that pig better suck a la chrome, P.D. 187

A to the motherfucking K
You know whassup Sen
Get your ass down and by the way

You get a hole in your head, a fuckin' hole in your head
A hole in your head, a hole your head
You get a hole in the head, in your motherfuckin' head
A hole in the head, a hole in the head

A Scooby Doo y'all, a Scooby Doo y'all
A Scooby Doo y'all, a doobie doobie doo y'all
A Scooby Doo y'all, Scooby Doo y'all
A Scooby Doo y'all, a Scooby doobie doo y'all

Six rollin' up and now he's really baffled
Brother's thinkin' damn, I never got this gaffled to' up
Beat down, down on the way to the station
Gaffled up from a false accusation, oh shit

Oink to the pen, you know homes the one that's where
The attitudes apply and where the punks'll be dined
Made a comb to a shank, I'm gonna stick ya
Wet ya, you know homes the picture
Yeah, you never been to jail boy, broomstick up your ass
And by the way

You get a hole in your head, a fuckin' hole in your head
A hole in the head, a hole the head
You get a hole in your head, in your motherfuckin' head
A hole in your head, a hole in your head

You get a hole in your head, in your motherfuckin' head
A hole in the head, a hole in the head
You get a hole in the head, in your motherfuckin' head
A hole in the head, a hole in the head

Yeah, South Central and the West side teamed up
(It's a Tribe thing)
This is hell boy
(It's a Tribe thing)
Straight up
(It's a Tribe thing)
What side is that Red?

Can they kick it? Can they kick it?
Yeah, can they kick it?
I'm Sirnose and they cannot kick it

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9ed7058688159cd7681fa6789dc499a3

Will They Die For You - Lyrics - Mase

Title: Will They Die For You
Artist: Mase
Composer(s): Sam Taylor, Sean Combs, Mason Betha, Ron Lawrence

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

Lyric:
Yeah, how many niggas that'll die 4 you
How many get a quiche like the pie wit you?
I ain't talkin' 'bout those that get high with you
Niggas know, if a red's on ya head, then they ride with you

How many niggas that'll die 4 you
How many get a quiche like the pie wit' you?
I ain't talkin' 'bout those that get high with you
Niggas know, if a red's on ya head, then they ride with you
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Well, I'mma ride for you, would you ride for me?
Well, I'mma die for you, would you die for me?
Obviously, we all know you type of cats
Let they man get struck, never strike back

Stay in the street, seven days a week
Shit get hot, you never blaze your heat
Stupid motherfucker wanna play me sweet
So I keep 'em on his toes, that way he never sleeps

Bigger than the king and the Pope, sling no dope
Call me anything but broke
When it's on, I guarantee my team don't choke
Want a war, you niggas better bring yo' force

And when I say we won't quit, believe this shit
When I talk about a Benz, let you see the 6
And when I'm talkin' to a ho, let you meet my bitch
When Puff talk, you niggas take heed to this

How many niggas that'll die 4 you
How many get a quiche like the pie wit' you?
I ain't talkin' 'bout those that get high with you
Niggas know, if a red's on ya head, then they ride with you

How many niggas that'll die 4 you
How many get a quiche like the pie wit' you?
I ain't talkin' 'bout those that get high with you
Niggas know, if a red's on ya head, then they ride with you

Yo, if you down to act, we came to scrap
We beef '89, still watch your back
A nigga smack me, I'mma smack 'em back
If it lead to the guns, then that be that

And lately, niggas that snake me, just make me
Wanna send 'em heat without AC
Thinks I'm sweet, taste me, how much you really want it?
Enough to put a mil' on it or your deal on it?

This year Cancun, guess who I'm going wit
My own niggas, see I pay my own trip
Make my own chips, I copped my own 6
I knock my own shit, like I'm on my own dick

My day be short, need coke, raid the fort
I'm knocked by the cops, come blaze the court
And though niggas die for, go on the shelf
Disrespect and spend like a man below your belt

Me, I always had, so I never go for self
Had thousand dollar bills with Teddy Roosevelt
Better slow down, tellin' you now, put the dough down
Kick your door down, surround the block, where you go now?

Fifty shots spit at you and that is not a whole round
Way I leave the furniture, think it was co-found
Here's the low-down, messin' with Mase gotta go down
What more could I say but hey, guess you niggas know now?

How many niggas that'll die 4 you
How many get a quiche like the pie wit' you?
I ain't talkin' 'bout those that get high with you
Niggas know, if a red's on ya head, then they ride with you

How many niggas that'll die 4 you
How many get a quiche like the pie wit' you?
I ain't talkin' 'bout those that get high with you
Niggas know, if a red's on ya head, then they ride with you

Motherfuckin' right I'ma roll with my motherfuckin' dogs
Bitches ain't around when it's time to go to war
This shit here, nothing to fuck with
I'm the same bitch, all ya'll wanna try ya'll luck with

Lil' Kim spread like syphilis
You think I'm pussy?
I dare you to stick your dick in this
Chrome 4-4, inconspicuous in the 6-0-0, shit's ridiculous

Speak when you're spoken to and only with permission
Like E.F. Hutton, when I talk, niggas listen
So don't ya'll be mad at me, 'cuz I'm the Q to the B
To the motherfuckin' E-E

Copped my CD, now all ya'll wanna be me
See me on the TV, beds will dip in 3-D
Peep the CD, chromed out and phoned out
My shit is paid for, your shit is loaned out

I gets it on, money keep growin'
Ice fully glowin', plus I'm bad to the bone
In the danger zone, I hold my own
When the pain is gone, like a splinter you enter

So why should I throw my blows in those
Do a bit upstate and take the weight for your troubles
My nigga B.I.G, I'mma ride for
But it ain't too many niggas that I'd die for

How many niggas that'll die 4 you
How many get a quiche like the pie wit' you?
I ain't talkin' 'bout those that get high with you
Niggas know, if a red's on ya head, then they ride with you

How many niggas that'll die 4 you
How many get a quiche like the pie wit' you?
I ain't talkin' 'bout those that get high with you
Niggas know, if a red's on ya head, then they ride with you

How many niggas that'll die 4 you
How many get a quiche like the pie wit' you?
I ain't talkin' 'bout those that get high with you
Niggas know, if a red's on ya head, then they ride with you
...

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fb1edae14cdbebfd5212d5fe4e17d877

Thugz Mansion (Nas Acoustic) - Lyrics - Better Dayz - 2pac

Title: Thugz Mansion (Nas Acoustic)
Album: Better Dayz
Artist: 2pac
Composer(s): Claudio Cueni, Johnny Jackson, Johnny Lee Johnson, Larry D Loftin, Nasir Jones, Tupac Shakur, Michael E. Herring

Lyric:
Shit, tired of gettin' shot at
Tired of gettin' chased by the police and arrested
Niggaz need a spot where we can kick it
A spot where we belong, that's just for us

Niggaz ain't gotta get all dressed up and be Hollywood
Y'knahmean where do niggaz go when we die?
Ain't no Heaven for a thug nigga, that's why we go to thug mansion
That's the only place where thugs get in free
And you gotta be a G at thug mansion

A place to spend my quiet nights, time to unwind
So much pressure in this life of mine, I cry at times
I once contemplated suicide, and would a tried
But when I held that 9, all I could see was my mommas eyes

No one knows my struggle, they only see the trouble
Not knowin' it's hard to carry on when no one loves you
Picture me inside the misery of poverty
No man alive has ever witnessed struggles I survived

Prayin' hard for better days, promise to hold on
Me and my dawgs ain't have a choice but to roll on
We found a family spot to kick it
Where we can drink liquor and no one bickers over trick shit

A spot where we can smoke in peace, and even though we G's
We still visualize places, that we can roll in peace
And in my mind's eye I see this place, the players go in fast
I got a spot for us all, so we can ball, at thug's mansion

Ain't no place I'd rather be, chillin' with homies and family
Sky high iced out paradise in the sky
Ain't no place I'd rather be, only place that's right for me
Chromed out mansion in paradise in the sky

Will I survive all the fights and the darkness?
Trouble sparks, they tell me home is where the heart is, dear departed
I shed tattooed tears and couldn't sleep good
For multiple years, witness peers catch gunshots

Nobody cares, seen the politicians ban us
They'd rather see us locked in chains, please explain
Why they can't stand us, is there a way for me to change?
Or am I just a victim of things I did to maintain?

I need a place to rest my head with the little bit of home boys
That remains, 'cause all the rest dead
Is there a spot for us to roll, if you find it
I'll be right behind ya, show me and I'll go

How can I be peaceful? I'm comin' from the bottom
Watch my daddy scream peace while the other man shot him
I need a house that's full of love when I need to escape
The deadly places slingin' drugs, in thug's mansion

Ain't no place I'd rather be, chillin' with homies and family
Sky high iced out paradise in the sky
Ain't no place I'd rather be, only place that's right for me
Chromed out mansion in paradise in the sky

Dear momma don't cry, your baby boy's doin' good
Tell the homies I'm in Heaven and they ain't got hoods
Seen a show with Marvin Gaye last night, it had me shook
Drippin' peppermint schnapps, with Jackie Wilson, and Sam Cooke

Then some lady named Billie holiday
Sang sittin' there kickin' it with Malcolm, till the day came
Little latasha sho' grown tell the lady in the liquor store
That she's forgiven, so come home

Maybe in time you'll understand only God can save us
When miles Davis Cuttin' lose with the band
Just think of all the people that you knew in the past
That passed on, they in Heaven, found peace at last

Picture a place that they exist, together
There has to be a place better than this, in Heaven
So right before I sleep, dear God, what I'm askin'
Remember this face, save me a place, in thug's mansion

Ain't no place I'd rather be, chillin' with homies and family
Sky high iced out paradise in the sky
Ain't no place I'd rather be, only place that's right for me
Chromed out mansion in paradise in the sky

Ain't no place I'd rather be, chillin' with homies and family
Sky high iced out paradise in the sky
Ain't no place I'd rather be, only place that's right for me
Chromed out mansion in paradise in the sky

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It Ain'T About You - Lyrics - Tha Streetz Iz a Mutha - Kurupt

Title: It Ain'T About You
Album: Tha Streetz Iz a Mutha
Artist: Kurupt
Composer(s): Priest Joseph Brooks, Ricardo Brown, Tray Davis

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

Lyric:
Yea
Ay, Soopafly
Yup
Ay, what's the name of that song that goes
Dada-dada-da-da-da, dadada-da-da
Dada-dada-da-da-da
It ain't about you?
That's the one you rappin' on?
Yea
Oh, yea, that's tight
You like that?
Yea

Check, check, check, check, check
Microphone, check, check, check, check, check
1, 2, check, check, check, check, check
Live in the place to be
Soopafly, comin' at ya
I don't stop and I don't quit
Comin' with that dogg pound gangsta shit
Yea, peep game

Check, I break a nigga neck
I keep a nine in my pocket and a home deck
I like to rock a show, I'm stackin' c-notes
It's Soopafly mothafucka if you didn't know
Now peep so sweet unique
I doubt if you could top the peak
Keep 'em in check
No sweat cock back fist connected to cheek, they sleep

Kick 'em in they ass wake up, uh now
Let me take you on a journey block to block
Show you how to pack heat, drop and 6 4 hop
Cut it up, chop, my homie got it, Tray don't stop
Had them bitches dope fiending like I'm slangin' them rocks
Straight from the L we don't take no shit
We off in the cut waitin' for y'all niggas to trip
We the last mothafuckas you want to fuck with

When you in close range you best to duck quick
Or get smashed your last chance to forfeit
Game over, I knock a nigga from drunk to sober
I hope I don't have to maneuver the choker
If you wanna dance I do the polka
Stickin' fuck bitch made Soop look like a switchblade

Can I ride in your car?
Girl I've gone too far
Can I smoke on your weed?
Nah, that ain't what you need
Can I borrow a dollar?
No, but you can eat this dick
While I smash my shit
And I pop in my car

Can I give you my number?
Yea, next summer
But I'm hungry baby
Sh, me too, that's crazy
So open up the door 'cuz I'm ready to go
Aight then, but I ain't got no money
Ain't you treatin' baby?
Hell no

Bitch take another route
You ain't even what this song's about
Bitch, I'm on a ride, dip and glidin' through the hood
Smokin' until the sun come out

Bitch please
Got her speakin' in Chinese
They like please
Yea, just pluck 'em off
Mothafuck all you hoes
Fuck 'em all
This is nothing but true game
This stainless thing got stained

The bitch gobble the best, she won a contest
For the best jaws in the West
The homie said, "Watch my head"
But instead, I got a 45 caliber lead spitta
A nigga feelin' bitter, shitty as some kitty litter
Take off, got a Adolf Hitler

Center of attraction
Multiplications then subtractions
From the blast then the smash
And the cash, and the credit
The bitch on my dick
I'm like bitch, forget it
Let it lose bitch, won't you let it
For what you let it
I get a bad bitch from Connecticut

A typical hoe, I'm only in it for the blow
The bitch was only in it for the blow
I gave her some blow then let her blow
Then she turned blue
On the speed I grabbed the heater and then flew

Can I ride in your car?
Girl I've gone too far
Can I smoke on your weed?
Nah, that ain't what you need
Can I borrow a dollar?
No, but you can eat this dick
While I smash my shit
And I pop in my car

Can I give you my number?
Yea, next summer
But I'm hungry baby
Sh, me too, that's crazy
So open up the door 'cuz I'm ready to go
Aight then, but I ain't got no money
Ain't you treatin' baby?
Hell no

Bitch take another route
You ain't even what this song's about
I'm on a ride, dip and glidin' through the hood
Smokin' until the sun come out

Now all salute the supreme general that got style
And watch how I rock and lock the block down
Tightly to fight me will 'cause disaster
No chance to surpass the vocab I master
As the sun rotate, took my guns off safe
Been a thug since 8, always drug my weight
I state the facts, mothafuck a platinum plaque
Always got my stack jackin' off from havin' a sack

Niggas act as if they back is stiff
And can't put work in
Shake the turf then
get to tuckin' they shirts in
But I'ma stay bangin'
The game that I'm claimin'
Gold chain swangin'
While the six trey hangin'

Back bumpa, impact the dumpa
In the stash spot mash out
Knock it locked up with the ass drop

Can I ride in your car?
Bitch I'm gone too far
Can I smoke on your weed?
Nah, this ain't what you need
Can I borrow a dollar?
Nah, but you can eat this dick
While I dip in my shit
And uh, pop my cop off

Can I give you my number?
Get at me next summer
But I'm hungry baby
Yea, me too, that's crazy
So open up the door 'cuz I'm ready to go
Aight, but I ain't got no money
Ain't you treatin' baby?
Hell no

Bitch take another route
You ain't even what this song's about
I'm on a ride, dip and glidin' through the hood
Smokin' until the sun come out

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72f739f9dd61307981644311ad28ca0c

No Future In It - Lyrics - Lil' Rob

Title: No Future In It
Artist: Lil' Rob
Composer(s): Robert Flores, John Stary

Lyric:
Lil' Rob, yeah
It's kinda fucked up, man
All these kids wanna be grown up
Gangsta, gangsta and all that kinda shit
Yo, I'll be honest with you, man
You smoke marijuana dogg but that's about it
It's better to cut loose, eh, you know

Chamacos on the calle living la vida loca
Eleven years old experimenting with drogas
Smoke a little weed, snort a little coca
I'll just try it one time, homey, to see que onda
It's so addictive and you get so addicted
Becomes a habbit, they gotta have it and then can't kick it
There's nothing funny about being a druggy
I know a lot of people fucked up, became a junkie

Used to dress clean started looking kinda bummy
Do what they say you can learn a lot from a dummy
You get wrapped up in it like a mummy
Next thing you know you're in your hefa's purse stealing the money
And you got it so bad, if you ain't got it you go mad
Won't stop until you get a toetag
Somebody please give me just a minute, homey
To let them know that there ain't no future in it, homey

We like to get all fucked up, you know homes
(There ain't no future in it, homey)
We do drugs till were all sucked up, you know homes
(There ain't no future in it, homey)
I smoke weed 'cause it grows from the seed but the other shit
(There ain't no future in it)
As if it makes you scratch and bleed, twitch and shit
(Homey, I ain't fucking with it)

Hey, homes just like Mrs. Jones
We both know that it's wrong but it's much too strong to let it go
Some do, some don't
The one's that do are fucked, always end up stuck in a rut
In love with the drug
Do sick shit for a fix, too many good people ended up in that mix
They scratch and they twitch, they stand and they sit
But they can't sit still the drugs the chill pill

They do what they do and I'll let 'em be
'Cause in reality they ain't bothering me
Even though is kinda fucked up to see
I can only feel lucky that that isn't me
But you know it coulda have easily been
It's not like it wasn't around all over the town
People looking for the drogas, their head on the ground
Another overdose another body was found

We like to get all fucked up, you know homes
(There ain't no future in it homey)
We do drugs till were all sucked up, you know homes
(There ain't no future in it homey)
I smoke weed 'cause it grows from the seed but the other shit
(There ain't no future in it)
As if it makes you scratch and bleed, twitch and shit
(Homey, I ain't fucking with it)

I dont have to prove to you what I been through
Just letting you know what I seen and what I've been into
We'd go out, we'd stay late till the day breaks
We'd be in Cisco drinking and huffing spray paint
Sparking it up, pointin' the spray plate
Getting fucked up till we can't see straight
Hit the calles to go start some havoc
And go gang banging in my homeboy's Maverick

I remember bumping some ace fly
My cuete's loaded and so am I
And you could tell by the look in my eyes
That I ain't giving a fuck, homeboy, we live to die
But that was just a thing to do at the time
Get together, get high and go pull some crimes
But the truth is you got a fucked up mentality
Bet, you are gonna get a fucked up reality check

We like to get all fucked up, you know homes
(There ain't no future in it, homey)
We do drugs till were all sucked up, you know homes
(There ain't no future in it, homey)
I smoke weed cause it grows from the seed but the other shit
(There ain't no future in it)
As if it makes you scratch and bleed, twitch and shit
(Homey, I ain't fucking with it)

There ain't no future in it, homey
There ain't no future in it, homey
There ain't no future in it
Homey, I ain't fucking with it

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Nuttin' Nis Funky - Lyrics - This Is An EP Release - Digital Underground

Title: Nuttin' Nis Funky
Album: This Is An EP Release
Artist: Digital Underground
Composer(s): Gregory Jacobs, Miles Davis

Lyric:
Yeah well, we're back with another one
Comin? hard and got suckers on the run
You say, you guys are known for havin? fun
Yeah well, we'll do what has to be done for us to be number one
And you ain't never heard nuthin? this funky, son

You ain't never heard nuthin? this funky ever, it's too clever
Rhyme goes through your mind
Like a guillotine severs the head, my friend
And you will never hear nobody rap like this again

You ain't heard nuttin? this funky, brother, it's like no other
You feel the bass bouncin? off the walls like rubber
The Real McCoy, this ain't no toy or another
How do we do it? Yo, go ask your mother

The freak need us, beat leaders
Let me tell you somethin?
You ain't heard nuttin this funky, Peter
So listen up as we begin, aiyyo Fuze, rub the record in

?Cause you ain't heard nuttin' this funky
?Cause you ain't heard nuttin' this funky
?Cause you ain't heard nuttin' this funky
?Cause you ain't heard nuttin' this funky

The definition of a rhyme breeder, beat needer
We're the cold party heaters
Comin? through the woofers and the tweeters
Funky dope MC leaders rhyme hungry hip-hop listener feeders

The definition of a rhyme sayer, beat layer
Mothersucker perpetrator slayer, layin? down the law like the Mayor
You're out of luck, Hucklebuck, I'll suck you up like a now or later
You say that you're a trooper, then I'm Darth Vader
You're a Cowboy then I'm a Raider

You can't compete ?cause you're incomplete, need to be completed
You're style is weak, you're obsolete, need to be deleted
Short on the things that you needed
So what you got a top ten song ?cause you cheated

If you worked in a kitchen, it'd be sweeter
From the rappin? that I hear, you'd make a better egg beater
A teeter totter or should I say, totter teeter
You're through, you're a court and we're leaders

We got the style you admire, the rhymes you desire
Well, you ain't heard nuttin? this slick you trick
?Cause you're a flick from a Bic and we're a bonfire

?Cause you ain't heard nuttin' this funky, yeah
?Cause you ain't heard nuttin' this funky
?Cause you ain't heard nuttin' this funky
You ain't heard nuttin' this funky

?Cause I roll up fast like a cheetah, get out the two-seater
Walk up on a girl named Anita or Rita
Ask her for change to put money in the meter
Didn't really need it just a smooth way to meet her

Or a fly way to treat her
She said, "I'm hungry" so I took her out to feed her
She was a pocket feeder chicken, fajita pita eater
I said, "Yo, eat how ya like" then took her home and G'd her

The definition of a funky rhyme master
Cleverly put together but not necessarily sayin? it faster
Ya see, that style isn't hard at all
The object of the game is to have a ball y'all

And to see who can come the funkiest
Lot of MC's think it's just a speed contest
They wanna brag about the neighborhood, oh you wanna boast?
We come from different cities and we're coast to coast, ya see

But right now we're based in Oakland
(Oakland)
Everywhere we go we leave the microphone smokin?
Yo bro I'm not jokin?
Leave MC's standin? still with their mouths hangin? open

Walk offstage and leave the next act
Scratchin? his head like a monkey
?Cause you ain't heard nuttin? this funky

'Cause you ain't heard nuttin? this funky
'Cause you ain't heard nuttin? this funky
'Cause you ain't heard nuttin? this funky

Leave a sucker standin? still confused
?Cause he never heard nuttin? this funky
You ain't heard nuttin? this funky
Ah, yeah

Why don't you tell ?em Hump
?Cause you ain't heard nuttin' this funky
Whassup y'all, Humpty Hump in the house
?Cause you ain't heard nuttin' this funky

Yeah
You know what?
You ain't heard nuttin' this funky
Let me bust a rhyme, c'mon
Get in

You ain't heard nuttin' this funky son, we're number one
Humpty Hump in the house, gonna show you how it's done
With professional rhymes, I gotta question for your mind
Have you ever heard anythin' this funky, son?

Yeah man, I was out on the street
These guys came on by in this, car man playin' some beat

You ain't heard nuttin' this funky nigga, how ya figure?
My mouth's on the mic like a finger on a trigger nigga
And when I squeeze I'ma getcha
You never heard nuthin' this funky now didja

And if you're large, we're bigger
You bust a weak ass rhyme and then expect me to dig ya
Humpty Hump's in the house with the locals
Yo, Schmoove kick the vocals

Humpty Hump's in the house with the locals
Yo, Schmoove kick the vocals

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ce110b75c69cab224c70c2f088d9db10

The Infamous Date Rape - Lyrics - The Low End Theory - A Tribe Called Quest

Title: The Infamous Date Rape
Album: The Low End Theory
Artist: A Tribe Called Quest
Composer(s): Diane Lampert, Nat Adderley, Kamaal Fareed, J Davis, Ali Shaheed Muhammad, Peter Farrow, Julian Adderley, Malik Taylor

Lyric:
Classic, classic
Classic example of a, a date rape
Classic example of a, a date rape
Classic example of a, a date rape
Classic example of a, a date rape

Listen to the rhyme, it's a black date fact
Percentile rate of date rape is fat
This is all true to the reason of the skeezin'
You got the right pickin' but you're in the wrong season

If you're in the wrong season, that means you gotta break
Especially if a squad tries to cry out rape
You be all vexed 'cuz she got it goin' on
You don't wanna fight becuz you know that you're wrong

So instead you rest your head on the arm of the couch
Envision in your head of a great sex bout
Worthy opponent, all you wanna do is bone it
You ask can you kick it, she says you can't stick

This is the case, the situation is sticky
Should you try to kiss or head towards the hickey
Not even, you can ask Steven
If the vibe ain't right, huh, ya leavin'

Hit the road Jack and all of that
But if she offers her abode, to drop ya load
Right smack dab in the middle
Get the kitten, I got crazy tender vittles

Uh huh, you know the science, you get buckwild
Runnin' mad games, as if your name was Scott Skiles
Or better yet Magic or even Karl Malone
Regardless who it is, your aim is to bone

If she tries to front, then you start to dis her
If she's with the program, that's when you start to kiss her
Might as well get to the point, no time to waste
Might as well break the ice, then set the pace

You start to talk nasty, now she's ready to bone
Step out of the shower, throw on cologne
All of a sudden, her sugarwalls tumble down like Jericho
She's hotter than Meshach, Shadrach and Abendego

You listen to After 7, break fool after 10
Do your thing at 12 o'clock and when you go again
There goes round 1, ding, there goes round two
Now tell me what the fuck are you supposed to do
What do you know, when the meow is completed
Girly girl cried rape, yo, I didn't really need it

Sweetheart, we ain't goin' out like that
Sweetheart, we ain't goin' out like that
Sweetheart, we ain't goin' out like that zulu
We ain't goin' out like that zulu
We ain't goin' out like that

Now baby bust it, if you wanna groove
Me and you can do it, it will be the move
I won't cry over spilled milk
If you won't let me take you to the Hilt

I don't wanna bone you that much
That I would go for the unforbidden touch
I'm not the type that would go for that
I'll have to fetch a brand new cat

Baby, baby, baby, I don't wanna be rude
But I know because of your bloody attitude
I know why you act that way
It usually happens on the 28th day

I respect that crazily
When you're done with the past, can you come check me?
This ain't a joint to disrespect you
Because one head ain't better than two
Check it out

It's a classic example of a, a date

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5ae1ff99f83c032e09c056066d611958

I Aint Mad At Cha - Lyrics - All Eyez On Me - 2pac

Title: I Aint Mad At Cha
Album: All Eyez On Me
Artist: 2pac
Composer(s): Delmar Daz Arnaud, Danny Steward, Tupac Shakur, Etterlaine Jordan

Lyric:
Change, shit
I guess change is good for any of us
Whatever it take for any of ya'll niggaz to get up out the hood
Shit, I'm wit cha, I ain't mad at cha
Got nuttin' but love for ya, do your thing boy

Yeah, all the homies that I ain't talk to in a while
I'ma send this one out for ya'll, knahmean?
'Cause I ain't mad at cha
Heard y'all tearin' up shit out there, kickin' up dust
Givin' a motherfucker,
Yeah, niggaz 'cause I ain't mad at cha

Now we was once two niggaz of the same kind
Quick to holla at a hoochie with the same line
You was just a little smaller but you still roll
Got stretched to Y.A. and hit the hood swoll

Member when you had a jheri curl didn't quite learn
On the block, witcha glock, trippin' off sherm
Collect calls to the till, sayin' how ya changed
Oh, you a Muslim now, no more dope game

Heard you might be comin' home, just got bail
Wanna go to the mosque, don't wanna chase tail
I seems I lost my little homie he's a changed man
Hit the pen and now no sinnin' is the game plan

When I talk about money all you see is the struggle
When I tell you I'm livin' large you tell me it's trouble
Congratulation on the weddin', I hope your wife know
She got a playa for life, and that's no bullshitin'

I know we grew apart, you probably don't remember
I used to fiend for your sister, but never went up in her
And I can see us after school, we'd bomb
On the first motherfucker with the wrong shit on

Now the whole shit's changed, and we don't even kick it
Got a big money scheme and you ain't even with it
Knew in my heart you was the same motherfucker bad
Go toe to toe when it's time for roll you got a brother's back

And I can't even trip, ?cause I'm just laughin' at cha
You tryin hard to maintain, then go head
'Cause I ain't mad at cha
I ain't mad at cha

I ain't, mad, at cha
(I ain't mad at cha)
I ain't, mad, at cha

We used to be like distant cousins, fightin', playin' dozens
Whole neighborhood buzzin', knowin' that we wasn't
Used to catch us on the roof or behind the stairs
I'm gettin' blitzed and I reminisce on all the times we shared

Besides bumpin' n grindin' wasn't nothin' on our mind
In time we learned to live a life of crime
Rewind us back, to a time was much too young to know
I caught a felony lovin' the way the guns blow

And even though we separated, you said that you'd wait
Don't give nobody no coochie while I be locked up state
I kiss my mama goodbye, and wipe the tears from her lonely eyes
Said I'll return but I gotta fight the fate's arrived

Don't shed a tear, 'cause mama I ain't happy here
I'm through trial, no more smiles, for a couple years
They got me goin' mad, I'm knockin' busters on they backs
In my cell, thinkin', "Hell, I know one day I'll be back"

As soon as I touch down
I told my girl I'll be there, so prepare, to get fucked down
The homies wanna kick it, but I'm just laughin' at cha
'Cause youse a down ass bitch, and I ain't mad at cha

I ain't, mad, at cha
(I ain't mad at cha)
I ain't, mad, at cha
(A true down ass bitch, and I ain't mad at cha)

Well, guess who's movin' up, this nigga's ballin' now
Bitches be callin' to get it, hookers keep fallin' down
He went from nuttin' to lots, ten carats to rock
Went from a nobody nigga to the big, man on the block

He's Mister local celebrity, addicted to move a key
Most hated by enemy, escape in the luxury
See, first you was our nigga but you made it, so the choice is made
Now we gotta slay you why you faded, in the younger days

So full of pain while the weapons blaze
Gettin' so high off that bomb hopin' we make it, to the better days
'Cause crime pays, and in time, you'll find a rhyme'll blaze
You'll feel the fire from the niggaz in my younger days

So many changed on me, so many tried to plot
That I keep a glock beside my head, when will it stop?
'Til God return me to my essence
'Cause even as a adolescents, I refuse to be a convalescent

So many questions, and they ask me if I'm still down
I moved up out of the ghetto, so I ain't real now?
They got so much to say, but I'm just laughin' at cha
You niggaz just don't know, but I ain't mad at cha

I ain't, mad at cha
(And I ain't mad at cha)
I ain't mad at cha
(Hell nah, I ain't mad at cha)
I ain't, mad at cha
(And I ain't mad at cha)
I ain't, mad at cha
(I ain't mad at cha)
I ain't, mad at cha, no
I ain't mad at cha

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