Before They Make Me Run - Lyrics - Some Girls - Rolling Stones

Title: Before They Make Me Run
Album: Some Girls
Artist: Rolling Stones
Composer(s): Mick Jagger, Keith Richards

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Lyric:
Worked the bars and sideshows along the twilight zone
Only a crowd can make you feel so alone and it really hit home
Booze and pills and powders, you can choose your medicine
Well here's another goodbye to another good friend

After all is said and done gotta move while it's still fun
Let me walk before they make me run
After all is said and done I gotta move, it's still fun
I'm gonna walk before they make me run

Watched my taillights fading, there ain't a dry eye in the house
They're laughing and singing, started dancing and drinking as I left town
Gonna find my way to heaven, 'cause I did my time in hell, oh yeah
I wasn't looking too good but I was feeling real well

After all is said and done I gotta move, I had my fun
Let us walk before they make us run

After all is said and done, I did alright, I had my fun
I will walk before they make me run
I will walk before they make me run

After all is said and done gotta move while it's still fun
Let me walk before they make me run
Let me walk before they make me run
I wanna walk before they make me run

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94d71ed925491668eb001d9f48b41af2

A Criminal Of Me - Lyrics - The Tossers

Title: A Criminal Of Me
Artist: The Tossers
Composer(s): Anthony Davi Broderick, Aaron Lee Duggins, Anthony J Duggins, Clayton Allen Hansen, Rebecca Brooke Manthe, Michael Pawula, Patrick Daniel Shaw

Lyric:
Y'all's my greats, great
My great, great granddad was a king
A monarch stout and noble
He surveyed this land so green
And he said, "She's fair and humble"

As far as the eye can see
From Carrantuohill to Giant's Causeway
Was ours until they went
And made a criminal of me

Many a Celtic head had rolled
And rolled upon the hillside
And they bathed their horses hooves
In Hibernian blood and their hide

In exile, they did flee
Set up a church and home there
'Til the landlord and the bailiff
Made it criminality

Oh, and on the road they came to run
Run until the runnin's done
Far away from fettered chain
The land was ours to barter

We succumb from sweat and strain
And look they're right behind again
If they catch me boys
I know they'll make a criminal of me

A criminal of me, a criminal of me
A wandering forever, hungering eternally
A criminal of me, a criminal of me
Run, run, before they make a criminal of me

Across the sea they sailed
To a land both bright and noble
For they'd watched their neighbors starve
And the bloodline as it fumbled

As they reached the safer side
Old Papa said to Jimmy
To try and live a life
So they'd not make a criminal of he

"Go be alert", said Da
?Do not perish for the gentry"
Tho' poor but proud was he
Whenever they called discretely

Well, he'd smash their faces in
And in jail he died poorly
But he said
"Don't let them try and make a criminal of ye"

On the road they came to run
Run until the runnin's done
Far away from fettered chain
The land was ours to barter

We succumb from sweat and strain
And look they're right behind again
If they catch me, boys
I know they'll make a criminal of me

A criminal of me, a criminal of me
A wandering forever, hungering eternally
A criminal of me, a criminal of me
Run, run, before they make a criminal of me

Oh a criminal of me, a criminal of me
A wandering forever, hungering eternally
Oh a criminal of me, oh a criminal of me
Run, run, before they make a criminal of me

Oh, now my boss he steps so gay
So gaily up the street
While I dull the pain in pubs
Still can't afford to eat

He is dashing, he is fancy
And he'll never want you see
Even as the factory shuts
His shoes reflect the criminal in me

Violent and drunk now in the street
With nothing to sustain me
I'm gonna die here in this hole
The kids I can't take care of with me

But it must be taught to let the blame
And hatred out of their heads
For anger and danger make you
Just another pathetic, drunken, violent paddy dead

On the road they came to run
Run until the runnin's done
Far away from fettered chain
The land was ours to barter

We succumb from sweat and strain
And look they're right behind again
If they catch me boys
I know they'll make a criminal of me

Oh a criminal of me, a criminal of me
A wandering forever, hungering eternally
Oh a criminal of me, oh a criminal of me
Run, run, before they make a criminal of me

Run, run, before they make a criminal of me
Run, run, before they make a criminal of me

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b8aade8582cfa1630cf0f5fa3688aa6f

Leave The Ground - Lyrics - The Damage Manual

Title: Leave The Ground
Artist: The Damage Manual
Composer(s): Geordie Walker, John Wardle, Martin Atkins, Chris Connelly, Martin Akins

Lyric:
Cynical, affordable
Lashed down like heaven sent intangible
Lucrative, initiative
Unbreathing forces stoked on sedatives

Fraternize, romanticize
Bring what is spoken for familiarize
Overkill, dependable
More human contact will just make you ill
Make you ill

That old disciples got a hold of me
I'm sick of walking on the past you see
Take your skeletons and run, bye, bye baby
Purge your thoughts into the sun
Goodbye baby, bye, bye, bye

Leave the ground before us
See how they run
(See how they run)
Leave the ground before us
See how they run
(See how they run)

Leave the ground before us
See how they run
(See how they run)
Leave the ground before us
See how they run
(See how they run)

See how they run
See how they run
See how they run
See how they run

Leave the ground before us
See how they run
(See how they run)
Leave the ground before us
See how they run
(See how they run)

Leave the ground before us
See how they run
(See how they run)
Leave the ground before us
See how they run
(See how they run)

Cynical, affordable
Lashed down like heaven sent intangible
Lucrative, initiative
Unbreathing forces stoked on sedatives

Fraternize, romanticize
Bring what is spoken for familiarize
Overkill, dependable
More human contact will just make you ill
Make you ill

Leave the ground before us
See how they run
Leave the ground before us
See how they run

Leave the ground before us
See how they run
(See how they run)
Leave the ground before us
See how they run

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a975858c9273c62377b0f82ba10cbc7a

Don'T Make - Lyrics - Living Legends - Eightball &Amp; Mjg

Title: Don'T Make
Album: Living Legends
Artist: Eightball &Amp; Mjg
Composer(s): Shondrae L Crawford, Premro Vonzellaire Smith, Marlon J Goodwin

Lyric:
Don't make, don't make, me kill, me kill
No mu'fuckin' body in here, in here
I'mma shoot, I'mma shoot, 3 shots, 3 shots
Somebody done made me hot, me hot
Don't make, don't make, me kill, me kill
No mu'fuckin' body in here, in here
I'mma shoot, I'mma shoot, 3 shots, 3 shots
Somebody done made me hot, me hot

You got me fucked up, we shoot guns and hit targets
Meat market, chop haters up who start shit
MJG, rippin' holes in body gaurds
Outta line, polices' and boys who think they body hard
And when the party started, I thought we was all chillin'
I figured that everybody be leavin' here all livin'
You standin' too close partna, you askin' too much baby
You need to get way from round me, before our clique goin' crazy

They ma-ny niggaz come round, talkin' 'bout
They hot, but they not, fuckin' with fat boy and MJ
Nigga we the truth, holla at a playa man
Streets are the booth, we poppin' at you hatas man
Soft ass niggaz make they chin hit the floor
Off bran niggaz take they cheese and they hoe
Mafio, Mafio, niggaz know, niggas know
When them real live G's hit the door, hit the door

Don't make, don't make, me kill, me kill
No mu'fuckin' body in here, in here
I'mma shoot, I'mma shoot, 3 shots, 3 shots
Somebody done made me hot, me hot
Don't make, don't make, me kill, me kill
No mu'fuckin' body in here, in here
I'mma shoot, I'mma shoot, 3 shots, 3 shots
Somebody done made me hot, me hot

I got a 22, not much bigger than my finger
A winchester pistol grip pump tha'ts a head ringer
A two shot derringer, not little millinater
A big 40 glock, just call me the gun slanger
Some AK spray to kill the front line
One houndred and thirty dead from squeezin' off one time
All you muthafuckin' niggaz, that yappin' that fly lip
Let it rip, don't slip, I'm workin' with fly clips

We fifty deep and every nigga with me got they ice on
Look, niggaz gottta brake your face like Roy Jones
Crush your bones when it's on, we ain't never scared
Them Memphis boys, we so serious when it's 'bout that bread
Kidnap family members, them niggaz don't leave no witness
They all love a gangsta, that shit be so addictive
When we pull up, they know who we are by the car
We blowin' big, and you know Diddy he gonna buy the bar

Don't make, don't make, me kill, me kill
No mu'fuckin' body in here, in here
I'mma shoot, I'mma shoot, 3 shots, 3 shots
Somebody done made me hot, me hot
Don't make, don't make, me kill, me kill
No mu'fuckin' body in here, in here
I'mma shoot, I'mma shoot, 3 shots, 3 shots
Somebody done made me hot, me hot

Take your vest off, I'm blowin' your neck off and eyes out
High speed chase, I'll follow you to your hideout
Shoot your fuckin' tires out, don't try to ride now
What happend to the bass in your voice, you just cryin' now?
Thought you was a man, you starting to look fine now
The grim reaper been lookin' for ya, and boy it's time now
And blow the roll, shit out the right side of your head man
Ain't no way for retaliation when you's a dead man

Not a scared man, we keep it, out the frame
We stayin' away from lames, and run the whole game
I do it like G, you ain't fuckin' with me
Eightball, MJG, we reppin' for Tennesee
With murder and homicide, and daily niggaz die
And daily niggaz ride, it don't mean with we you wise
Money, and the power, the weak, they get devoured
Them boys that disrespect, with bullets they get showered

Don't make, don't make, me kill, me kill
No mu'fuckin' body in here, in here
I'mma shoot, I'mma shoot, 3 shots, 3 shots
Somebody done made me hot, me hot
Don't make, don't make, me kill, me kill
No mu'fuckin' body in here, in here
I'mma shoot, I'mma shoot, 3 shots, 3 shots
Somebody done made me hot, me hot
...

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b848a6b4ffd40d1da58b0143b898283b

You Scared, Pt. 2 - Lyrics - Three 6 Mafia

Title: You Scared, Pt. 2
Artist: Three 6 Mafia
Composer(s): Paul Beauregard, Darnell Carlton, Ricky Dunigan, Jordan Houston

Lyric:
You scared hoe, you scared hoe
You scared hoe, kickin' in the door
I make them bitches hit the floor for keys

You scared hoe, you scared hoe
You scared hoe, kickin' in the door
I make them bitches hit the floor for keys

Bust in with that 45, make them bitches back it up
Catch them ridin' on them thangs, make them bitches jack it up
Here they got that pot it man, make them bitches bag it up
Finally got that money man, make them bitches sag it up

Take it to the spot man now it's time to crank it up
Don't play, tomorrows a brighter day, I gotta pack it up
Mean's I bees the first up on the block, I guess to rack it up
Pocket full of stones, oh boy, I gotta track it up

Fuckin' with you snitches man don't make me wanna hang it up
But lookin' at a empty plate don't make me wanna keep it up
Any nigga with that work gonna make me wanna creep it up
Even though my pockets don't get deep, they ain't got deep enough

Wishin' I could rob me a bank but I ain't thief enough
I keep it in the hood to rob a nigga chart, they sleep enough
And it's 'bout the time I get my back then I need it up
Time to find another boy, time I gettin' a Rita

I think I got them scared, I think that they scared of me
I think you bitch, you scared, I think that they scared of me
I think I got them scared, I think that they scared of me
Kickin' in the door, I make them bitches hit the floor for keys

I think I got them scared, I think that they scared of me
I think you bitch, you scared, I think that they scared of me
I think I got them scared, I think that they scared of me
Kickin' in the door, I make them bitches hit the floor for keys

Which one of you rappers wanna feel them shots
Sayin' that Juicy J, fuck you out your record money flop
Hope you know these North Memphis soldiers keep a plastic glock
Stand in front of your house, I'm 'bout to buck you cowards on the spot

Heard you talkin' loud at the tuff, I guess to gang your pops
Man this ain't no radio station, boy quit tryin' to pump your watch
Police yellow tape, somebody blood they wipin' with a mop
What a witness saw when we here roll on down your corner block

The Mafia Boys, we get the toys, make you drop it off
Pass me the gun, I take the handle then I saw it off
Bust in the bank and make you faint before I knock it off
Hum on the drank and full of dank, ready to break the law

I see them fuzz, I see we won 'cause I won it all
So fucken scared, you talkin' gahos, want it, oh want it, oh
But we don't care, we like 'em Dallas standin' ten feet tall
Buckin' you, blastin' you, watch you splatter on the fucken wall

I think I got them scared, I think that they scared of me
I think you bitch, you scared, I think that they scared of me
I think I got them scared, I think that they scared of me
Kickin' in the door, I make them bitches hit the floor for keys

I think I got them scared, I think that they scared of me
I think you bitch, you scared, I think that they scared of me
I think I got them scared, I think that they scared of me
Kickin' in the door, I make them bitches hit the floor for keys

Creepin' carefully through the street because it's very real in the field
Ain't no love for pity, ain't nobody cut you no deal
Everyone I know, they do whatever just to get a meal
Or what's in the bottle or the baggie or what's under seal

Careful of the company you keep, everyone a treal
'Cause when robbas, mobbas double jaw, just to bust appeal
You got hustler's, dealer's bankin' every town, every field
Guess, what I don't hang around the brothers, so, so mass a girl

Crunchy Black, in this bitch I'm bout to bring the pain
Ain't no gang in my slang, do you understand?
Mess with me then your messin' with the grownest man
Where I'm from, from the slum, nigga's shootin' a thang

On the run now you see me in the papers man
They were tryin' to stop a nigga from doin' his thang
Can't you mug is the song that I'm singin' man
Hypnotize got me gold diggin' for the chain

I think I got them scared, I think that they scared of me
I think you bitch, you scared, I think that they scared of me
I think I got them scared, I think that they scared of me
Kickin' in the door, I make them bitches hit the floor for keys

I think I got them scared, I think that they scared of me
I think you bitch, you scared, I think that they scared of me
I think I got them scared, I think that they scared of me
Kickin' in the door, I make them bitches hit the floor for keys

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600a05f8d61706bfdb031c831a391de4

Enemies With Me - Lyrics - R U Still Down? (Remember Me) - 2pac

Title: Enemies With Me
Album: R U Still Down? (Remember Me)
Artist: 2pac
Composer(s): Yafeu Fula, Kevin Rhames, Katari Cox, Buddy L Hank, Keith Boxley, George Jr Clinton, Eric Sadler, Christopher Walker, Roger Parker, Randy Walker, O'Shea Jackson, Tupac Shakur, Steven Arrington, Charles Cedel Carter, David L Spradley, Mutah Beale, Malcolm Greenidge, Garry M Shider

Lyric:
Young Thugs in this motherfucker
Don't break up the fight, let 'em rumble
Don't make enemies with me
I try to tell these motherfuckers they ain't see
Don't make enemies with me

Some say my criminal experience is legendary
I do what's necessary
Niggas wanna see me burried, worried, if you coming hurried
I ain't going down, fuck the world I'm a thug

Tell 'em can't nothing stop me but a slug
I went from drug dealing to a shot caller
From off the block, no longer rock
And putting money in my pocket, nationwide baller

Bitch nigga I'm prepared to die, before I fry
I hit the weed so I be forever high
My eyes has seen so much in misery, so before I flee
I open fire let the lord pick the first to bleed

Bitches don't wanna see me leave, forever thugging
Tell 'em bury me a G on everything I love
And fuck the law 'cause the raw niggas ain't free
This picture's clear but we can't see

This game is jealousy, don't let 'em change
That's what they keep on telling me, motherfuck the fame
I can't sleep 'cause I keep hearing peeps
Loving masters wrapped in my sheets

Don't make enemies with me
I try to tell these motherfuckers they ain't see
Don't make enemies with me
Rather fuck with these other other little Gs

Don't make enemies with me, nigga
I try to tell these motherfuckers they ain't see
Don't make enemies with me
Fuck with these other other little Gs
Don't make enemies with me

The game is getting deeper with this I couldn't stop, I'm reminising
And having flashbacks when them niggas came up missing
Wish in my heart, these niggas they ain't have to start
Now therefore they gotta see in dark

Played the part with heart when we spark they part
Running silly through the court, they don't really wanna start
How you wanna do? Yo K, anyway
These motherfuckers wanna play we can do it all day

So I stay, sipping on my aray to keep my head fine
And I'm where? Everywhere from here to bedtime
And I squeeze when I say I'm coming
Straight gunning on enemies if it's really me that they wanting
'Cause it ain't nothing, Y'all niggas is fronting
Do you really want it? Niggas dying

Don't make enemies with me
I try to tell these motherfuckers they ain't see
Don't make enemies with me
You'd rather fuck with these other other little Gs

Don't make enemies with me
I try to tell these motherfuckers they ain't see
Don't make enemies with me
You'd rather fuck with these other other little Gs
Don't make enemies with me

Now, we're in '94, Niggas get bust through the do'
Cup in a flash sittin' on that ass and rarely fold
Galitter tell 'em bout that trife shit you wanna fight?
I wanna light shit, you lose your life bitch

A nigga struggle too hard for what I got hustle
And doubled every fucking yard that I cop and stop
Hell nah! I coulnd't see it
Facing a century in the penatentury but so be it

And Jesus couldn't help me out the state
Prepare for an early date to see my fate at the Pearly Gate
But wait No time for stalling but death is calling
You wanna stomp on it somebody's gotta start falling

True, what I do from sun up is for a come up
Wake up with my gun up, 'cause when I sneak that's when they run up
So It's time to spray like Ray
And put the freeze on these fake Gs, you know how we do

Don't make enemies with me
I try to tell these motherfuckers they ain't see
Don't make enemies with me
You'd rather fuck with these other other little Gs

Don't make enemies with me, nigga
I try to tell these motherfuckers they ain't see
Don't make enemies with me
You'd Rather fuck with these other other little Gs
Don't make enemies with me

What nigga? Young motherfucking thugs, let's out do it
Don't make enemies with me nigga
Y'all better fuck with these other niggas
And I don't see it

Don't make enemies with me
Motherfuckers is fatal nigga
I swear by the Gods
Don't make enemies with me nigga

Niggas gonna see they caskets fucking with these bastards
Don't make enemies with me
It's for all these motherfuckers that's swearing to God
That they be doing something

That they touching something
That they being something
Y'all niggas ain't shit
That's on my mama bring the drama, nigga

Young Thugs, fuck the drugs
These niggas making records, y'all niggas best to check it
'Cause y'all gonna get yo asshole tore
They tearing patches out you niggas ass

All y'all niggas, I don't give a fuck who you running with
This is thug life nigga, the new generation motherfucker
Young Thugs we chin checking all you junior high school motherfuckers
Y'all better feel this shit, don't make enemies with these niggas

You better be friendly motherfucker, I swear to God
We running through, smile from handshake

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7d021c761e3a1059a69d703278a99922

Up In Here - Lyrics - Dmx

Title: Up In Here
Artist: Dmx
Composer(s): Earl Simmons, Kaseem Dean

Lyric:
Y'all gon' make me lose my mind up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me go all out up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me act a fool up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me lose my cool up in here, up in here

If I gotsta bring it to you cowards then it's gonna be quick, aight
All your mens up in the jail before, suck my dick
And all them other cats you run with, get done with, dumb quick
How the fuck you gonna cross the dog with some bum shit? Aight

There go the gun click, nine one one shit
All over some dumb shit, ain't that some shit
Y'all niggaz remind me of a strip club, 'cause everytime
You come around, it's like what I just gotta get my dick sucked

And I don't know who the fuck you think you talkin' to
But I'm not him, aight slim? So watch what you do
Or you gon' find yourself, buried next to someone else
And we all thought you loved yourself

But that couldn't have been the issue or maybe
They just sayin' that, now 'cause they miss you
Shit a nigga tried to diss you that's why you layin'
On your back, lookin' at the roof of the church
Preacher tellin' the truth and it hurts

Y'all gon' make me lose my mind up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me go all out up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me act a fool up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me lose my cool up in here, up in here

Off the chain I leave niggaz soft in the brain
'Cause niggaz still want the fame, off the name
First of all, you ain't rapped long enough
To be fuckin' with me and you, you ain't strong enough

So whatever it is you puffin' on that got you think that you Superman
I got the kryptonite, should I smack him with my dick and the mic?
Y'all niggaz is characters, not even good actors
What's gon' be the outcome? Hmm, let's add up all the factors

You wack, you're twisted, your girl's a hoe
You're broke, the kid ain't yours and everybody know
Your old man say you stupid, you be like so?
I love my baby mother, I never let her go

I'm tired of weak ass niggaz whinin' over puss
That don't belong to them, fuck is wrong with them?
They fuck it up for real niggaz like my mans and them
Who get it on on the strength of the hands with them, man

Y'all gon' make me lose my mind up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me go all out up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me act a fool up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me lose my cool up in here, up in here

I bring down rains so heavy it curse the head
No more talkin' put him in the dirt instead
You keep walin' lest you tryin' to end up red
'Cause if I end up fed, y'all end up dead

'Cause youse a soft type nigga
Fake up north type nigga
Puss like a soft white nigga
Dog is a dog, blood's thicker than water

We done been through the mud and we quicker to slaughter
The bigger the order, the more guns we brought out
We run up in there, everybody come out, don't nobody run out
Sun in to sun out, I'ma keep the gun out

Nigga runnin his mouth? I'ma blow his lung out
Listen, yo' ass is about to be missin'
You know who gon' find you? Who? Some old man fishin'
Grandma wishin' your soul's at rest
But it's hard to digest with the size of the hole in your chest

Y'all gon' make me lose my mind up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me go all out up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me act a fool up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me lose my cool up in here, up in here

Hold up, err
One, two, meet me outside
Meet me outside, meet me outside
All my Ruff Ry-Ders gon' meet me outside

Meet me outside, meet me outside
All my big ball-ers gon' meet me outside
Meet me outside, meet me outside
All my fly lad-ies gon' meet me outside

Meet me outside, meet me outside
All my street street peoples meet me outside
Meet me outside, outside motherfucker

X is got y'all bouncin' again
Bouncin' again, bounce bouncin' again
Dark Man X got ya bouncin' again
Bouncin' again, bounce bouncin' again

Swizz Beatz got y'all bouncin' again
Bouncin' again, bounce bouncin' again
Ruff Ryders got y'all bouncin' again
Bouncin' again, bounce bouncin' again

Dark Man keep you bouncin' again
Bouncin' again, bounce bouncin' again
Dark Man keep you bouncin' again
Bouncin' again, bounce bouncin' again

All my streets they bouncin' again bouncin'
Again, we're bouncin' again
Swizz, Swizz Beatz we bouncin again
Bouncin' again and we bouncin' again
Double R keep it comin', ain't nuttin' y'all, ain't nuttin' y'all can do, now

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19e4e315fbd2386db55ed6574b52fa9f

Party Up - Lyrics - And Then There Was X - Dmx

Title: Party Up
Album: And Then There Was X
Artist: Dmx
Composer(s): Earl Simmons, Kaseem Dean

Lyric:
Y'all gon' make me lose my mind
Up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me go all out
Up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me act a fool
Up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me lose my cool
Up in here, up in here

If I gotsta bring it to you cowards then it's gonna be quick, aight
All your mens up in the jail before suck my dick
And all them other cats you run with, get done with, dumb quick
How the fuck you gonna cross the dog with some bum shit? Aight

There go the gun click, nine one one shit
All over some dumb shit, ain't that some shit
Y'all niggaz remind me of a strip club, 'cause every time
You come around, it's like what, I just gotta get my dick sucked

And I don't know who the fuck you think you talkin' to
But I'm not him, aight Slim? So watch what you do
Or you gon' find yourself, buried next to someone else
And we all thought you loved yourself

But that couldn't have been the issue, or maybe they just sayin' that
Now 'cause they miss you, shit a nigga tried to diss you
That's why you layin' on your back, lookin' at the roof of the church
Preacher tellin' the truth and it hurts

Y'all gon' make me lose my mind
Up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me go all out
Up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me act a fool
Up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me lose my cool
Up in here, up in here

Off the chain I leave niggaz soft in the brain
'Cause niggaz still want the fame, off the name
First of all, you ain't rapped long enough
To be fuckin' with me and you, you ain't strong enough

So whatever it is you puffin' on that got you thinkin' that you Superman
I got the kryptonite, should I smack him with my dick and the mic?
Y'all niggaz is characters, not even good actors
What's gon' be the outcome? Hmm, let's add up all the factors

You wack, you're twisted, your girl's a hoe
You're broke, the kid ain't yours, and everybody know
Your old man say, "You're stupid", you be like, "So?
I love my baby mother, I never let her go"

I'm tired of weak ass niggaz, whinin' over puss
That don't belong to them, fuck is wrong with them?
They fuck it up for real niggaz like my mans and them
Who get it on on the strength of the hands with them, man

Y'all gon' make me lose my mind
Up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me go all out
Up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me act a fool
Up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me lose my cool
Up in here, up in here

I bring down rains so heavy it curse the head
No more talkin', put him in the dirt instead
You keep walin' lest you tryin' to end up red
'Cause if I end up fed, y'all end up dead

'Cause youse a soft type nigga, fake up north type nigga
Puss like a soft white nigga
Dog is a dog, blood's thicker than water
We done been through the mud and we quicker to slaughter

The bigger the order, the more guns we brought out
We run up in there, everybody come out, don't nobody run out
Sun in to sun out, I'ma keep the gun out
Nigga runnin' his mouth? I'ma blow his lung out

Listen, your ass is about to be missin'
You know who gon' find you? Who? Some old man fishin'
Grandma wishin' your soul's at rest
But it's hard to digest with the size of the hole in your chest

Y'all gon' make me lose my mind
Up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me go all out
Up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me act a fool
Up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me lose my cool
Up in here, up in here

Hold up! Err
One, two, meet me outside
Meet me outside, meet me outside
All my Ruff Ryders gon' meet me outside
Meet me outside, meet me outside
All my big ballers, gon' meet me outside
Meet me outside, meet me outside
All my fly ladies, gon' meet me outside
Meet me outside, meet me outside
All my street, street peoples meet me outside
Meet me outside, outside motherfucker

X is got y'all bouncin' again
Bouncin' again, bounce, bouncin' again
Dark Man X got ya bouncin' again
Bouncin' again, bounce, bouncin' again
Swizz Beatz got y'all bouncin' again
Bouncin' again, bounce, bouncin' again
Ruff Ryders got y'all bouncin' again
Bouncin' again, bounce, bouncin' again
Dark Man keep you bouncin' again

Bouncin' again, bounce, bouncin' again
Dark Man keep you bouncin' again
Bouncin' again, bounce, bouncin' again
All my streets they bouncin' again
Bouncin' again, we're bouncin' again
Swizz Swizz Beatz we bouncin' again
Bouncin' again and we bouncin' again
Double R keep it comin', ain't nothin' y'all
Ain't nothing y'all can do, now

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f2c6ffe5961aad2e32e44b6fb846621c

Show Out - Lyrics - Trouble - Akon

Title: Show Out
Album: Trouble
Artist: Akon
Composer(s): Clifton N Chase, Edward G Fletcher, Melvin Glover, Sylvia Robinson, Aliaune Thiam

Lyric:
Akon, show out, show out
(Show out, show out)

I'm sure that the streets are watching me
Rather not run when the cops are stopping me
Pulled over on the road they watching me
As they walk passed all the chicks are jockin' me

Ferrari truck on the side of the road
Raspberry paint gloss sitting on 24's
Give me a warning ticket, letting me go
'Cause you can tell by the jewels that I ain't an average Joe

'Cause I meet fresh dimes daily
You burn me really
'Cause I done seen your type before
You wanna hate out on the chef 'cause he baking that dough, yo

Don't tempt me 'cause I'm close to the edge
I'm tryin' not to lose my head
'Cause you don't really wanna see me show out
(Show out)

In the club on free spinning G's
(Show out)
Yokohama 24's on these
(Show out)
Yo playa, don't make me
(Show out)

'Cause You don't really wanna see me
(Show out)
Akon got a crew so deep
(Show out)
From the West Indies to over seas
(Show out)
Yo mami don't make me
(Show out)

It's all good but I'm still in the hood
Like right around the corner 'cause it's all in my brain
A nice crib on the hill of Hollywood but the ghetto mind stayin'
Ain't a damn thing changed

It's funny how people switch when they get rich
Spend it all on chicks
Hundred-thousand dollar car for what, these bitches
Ten million dollar crib for what, these bitches
Five thousand dollar suits for what, these bitches

Should of known but they only out for your riches
Some freaks need to be dealt with
Spread 'em and smack 'em backwards with a stick
I guarantee she'll do what you say, yeah daddy, no daddy, okay

Don't tempt me 'cause I'm close to the edge
I'm tryin' not to lose my head
'Cause you don't really wanna see me show out
(Show out)
In the club on free spinning G's
(Show out)

Yokohama 24's on these
(Show out)
Yo playa, don't make me
(Show out)
'Cause you don't really wanna see me
(Show out)

Akon got a crew so deep
(Show out)
From the West Indies to over seas
(Show out)
It ain't happenin'

Yo mami, don't make me
(Show out)
It's gonna make me
(Show out)
Y'all niggas gonna make me
(Show out)
Y'all chickens gonna make me
(Show out)
'Cuz this some real shit

Don't make me pull your card
Y'all niggas gonna make me
(Show out)
(Y'all niggas)
Y'all niggas gonna make me
(Show out)

(Y'all chickens)
Y'all chickens gonna make me
(Show out)
'Cuz this some real shit
Don't make me pull your card now
(Come on, now)

'Cause you don't really wanna see me
(Show out)
In the club on free spinning G's
(Show out)
Yokohama 24's on these
(Show out)
Hey yo, don't make me
(Show out)

'Cause you don't really wanna see me
(Show out)
Akon got a crew so deep
(Show out)
From the West Indies to over seas
(Show out)

Yo baby don't make me
(Show out)
Don't make me
(No)
Show out
(Show out)

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c77aeb90b2859e4ac66d170acfac6c1a

Take Whats Yours - Lyrics - Dmx

Title: Take Whats Yours
Artist: Dmx
Composer(s): Earl Simmons, Mason Betha, Carlos Broady, Nasheim Myrick

Lyric:
Yo, I be that young fly fellow, got thorough
Down for denaro, hit everything in the Triburo
And I'm the newest member of the Bad Boy team
And I'mma bring this nigga Puff mad more C.R.E.A.M.

With hooks galore, leave this city shook for short
And I'mma take 'em back where Biggie took 'em before
You stay a playa' since you can't stay up with the Pope
And stick to what you do best, stick to wearin' coke

You lookin' for excuses, ways to say you're broke
Can't keep a whip 'cuz you can't pay the note
Fuck the side, I'm waiting on top, Mercedes drop
Black 380's cops, 'till the day I get knocked

All I ask when I die, dress me fly and neatly
And brush my waves, so I'm handsome when the bitches greet me
Word from the wise, niggas jerk pies, we hurt them guys
Bust lead, to skin they head and leave them circumcised

So how you wanna settle this?
Rappin' or on some ghetto shit
We can do it yo way, with mics or with metal shit

Niggas wanna shout, I'mma make noise
Niggas run they mouth, I'mma break jaws
Mase is comin' out, we gon' take yours
Harlem World, uptown, baby, we make wars

Niggas wanna shout, I'mma make noise
Niggas run they mouth, I'mma break jaws
Mase is comin' out, we gon' take yours
Harlem World, uptown, baby, we make wars

Yo, yo, before it's all over, lot of blood gon' be spilled
We ain't discriminatin' even thugs gon' be killed
We early inheritors, born into C.R.E.A.M
If a nigga' get sheist then we form as a team

Bullshit if you want and it be on for this C.R.E.A.M.
The weatherman don't even know the storm I'mma bring
But yo, I'm not the man with whom you interact
So before you grab gatts to jack, remember that

You take dough from Mase, you might as well send it back
I got thugs everywhere, where you going spending that
When clicks come to brawl, everything I hit fall
Niggas play sick wid y'all, wit me they ain't sick at all
No matter how big or small, I get rid of ya'll
And shit I spit at y'all, come in one size fit all

Niggas wanna shout, I'mma make noise
Niggas run they mouth, I'mma break jaws
Mase is comin' out, we gon' take yours
Harlem World, uptown, baby, we make wars

Niggas wanna shout, I'mma make noise
Niggas run they mouth, I'mma break jaws
Mase is comin' out, we gon' take yours
Harlem World, uptown, baby, we make wars

Yo, yo, if you think I'm on some sweet shit
Then won't you creep quick, I let the heat spit
Make a nigga G flick, classic criminal
Keep a gatt by my genitals, thugs love me

So don't get splashed for the minimal
We never vest up, be in a double breast tux
Plus keep a fresh cut, picture me getting lefts stuff
I let one lose, to show you I ain't the one do

And I ain't puffin' nuthin', make all my gun shoot
You let your gun loose, none o' 'em niggas gun proof
Watch them niggas drop, when I pop one in they sunroof
And we be lead bustin', leavin' niggas head gushin'

You niggas talkin' 'bout guns like you said something
I'll be lacin' 'em, hollow tips, I be wastin' 'em
That's what you faggots get, tryin' to fuck with Mase and 'em
Bad Boy, '97, front, there'll be none o' that
And all you cats, running your trap, one in your cap

Niggas wanna shout, I'mma make noise
Niggas run they mouth, I'mma break jaws
Mase is comin' out, we gon' take yours
Harlem World, uptown, baby, we make wars

Niggas wanna shout, I'mma make noise
Niggas run they mouth, I'mma break jaws
Mase is comin' out, we gon' take yours
Harlem World, uptown, baby, we make wars

Niggas wanna shout, I'mma make noise
Niggas run they mouth, I'mma break jaws
Mase is comin' out, we gon' take yours
Harlem World, uptown, baby, we make wars

Niggas wanna shout, I'mma make noise
Niggas run they mouth, I'mma break jaws
Mase is comin' out, we gon' take yours
Harlem World, uptown, baby, we make wars

Niggas wanna shout, I'mma make noise

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95dc8e59359520f2c956d9e425f561f4

Take What'S Yours - Lyrics - Mase

Title: Take What'S Yours
Artist: Mase
Composer(s): Earl Simmons, Mason Betha, Carlos Broady, Nasheim Myrick

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

Lyric:
Yo, I be that young fly fellow, got thorough
Down for denaro, hit everything in the Triburo
And I'm the newest member of the Bad Boy team
And I'mma bring this nigga Puff mad more C.R.E.A.M.

With hooks galore, leave this city shook for short
And I'mma take 'em back where Biggie took 'em before
You stay a playa' since you can't stay up with the Pope
And stick to what you do best, stick to wearin' coke

You lookin' for excuses, ways to say you're broke
Can't keep a whip 'cuz you can't pay the note
Fuck the side, I'm waiting on top, Mercedes drop
Black 380's cops, 'till the day I get knocked

All I ask when I die, dress me fly and neatly
And brush my waves, so I'm handsome when the bitches greet me
Word from the wise, niggas jerk pies, we hurt them guys
Bust lead, to skin they head and leave them circumcised

So how you wanna settle this?
Rappin' or on some ghetto shit
We can do it yo way, with mics or with metal shit

Niggas wanna shout, I'mma make noise
Niggas run they mouth, I'mma break jaws
Mase is comin' out, we gon' take yours
Harlem World, uptown, baby, we make wars

Niggas wanna shout, I'mma make noise
Niggas run they mouth, I'mma break jaws
Mase is comin' out, we gon' take yours
Harlem World, uptown, baby, we make wars

Yo, yo, before it's all over, lot of blood gon' be spilled
We ain't discriminatin' even thugs gon' be killed
We early inheritors, born into C.R.E.A.M
If a nigga' get sheist then we form as a team

Bullshit if you want and it be on for this C.R.E.A.M.
The weatherman don't even know the storm I'mma bring
But yo, I'm not the man with whom you interact
So before you grab gatts to jack, remember that

You take dough from Mase, you might as well send it back
I got thugs everywhere, where you going spending that
When clicks come to brawl, everything I hit fall
Niggas play sick wid y'all, wit me they ain't sick at all
No matter how big or small, I get rid of ya'll
And shit I spit at y'all, come in one size fit all

Niggas wanna shout, I'mma make noise
Niggas run they mouth, I'mma break jaws
Mase is comin' out, we gon' take yours
Harlem World, uptown, baby, we make wars

Niggas wanna shout, I'mma make noise
Niggas run they mouth, I'mma break jaws
Mase is comin' out, we gon' take yours
Harlem World, uptown, baby, we make wars

Yo, yo, if you think I'm on some sweet shit
Then won't you creep quick, I let the heat spit
Make a nigga G flick, classic criminal
Keep a gatt by my genitals, thugs love me

So don't get splashed for the minimal
We never vest up, be in a double breast tux
Plus keep a fresh cut, picture me getting lefts stuff
I let one lose, to show you I ain't the one do

And I ain't puffin' nuthin', make all my gun shoot
You let your gun loose, none o' 'em niggas gun proof
Watch them niggas drop, when I pop one in they sunroof
And we be lead bustin', leavin' niggas head gushin'

You niggas talkin' 'bout guns like you said something
I'll be lacin' 'em, hollow tips, I be wastin' 'em
That's what you faggots get, tryin' to fuck with Mase and 'em
Bad Boy, '97, front, there'll be none o' that
And all you cats, running your trap, one in your cap

Niggas wanna shout, I'mma make noise
Niggas run they mouth, I'mma break jaws
Mase is comin' out, we gon' take yours
Harlem World, uptown, baby, we make wars

Niggas wanna shout, I'mma make noise
Niggas run they mouth, I'mma break jaws
Mase is comin' out, we gon' take yours
Harlem World, uptown, baby, we make wars

Niggas wanna shout, I'mma make noise
Niggas run they mouth, I'mma break jaws
Mase is comin' out, we gon' take yours
Harlem World, uptown, baby, we make wars

Niggas wanna shout, I'mma make noise
Niggas run they mouth, I'mma break jaws
Mase is comin' out, we gon' take yours
Harlem World, uptown, baby, we make wars

Niggas wanna shout, I'mma make noise

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5e0559c716dacfd4dc62e66d3253d9fe

Marshall Mathers - Lyrics - The Marshall Mathers LP - Eminem

Title: Marshall Mathers
Album: The Marshall Mathers LP
Artist: Eminem
Composer(s): Jeff Bass, Mark Bass, Marshall Mathers

Lyric:
You know I just don't get it, last year I was nobody
This year I'm sellin' records
Now everybody wants to come around like I owe 'em somethin'
The fuck you want from me? Ten million dollars
Get the fuck out of here

You see I'm, just Marshall Mathers, I'm just a regular guy
I don't know why all the fuss about me
Nobody ever gave a fuck before, all they did was doubt me
Now everybody wanna run they mouth and try to take shots at me

Yo, you might see me joggin', you might see me walkin'
You might see me walkin' a dead rottweiler dog
With it's head chopped off in the park with a spiked collar
Hollerin' at him 'cause the son of a bitch won't quit barkin'

Or leanin' out a window, with a cocked shotgun
Drivin' up the block in the car that they shot 'Pac in
Lookin' for Big's killers, dressed in ridiculous
Blue and red like I don't see what the big deal is

Double barrel twelve gauge bigger than Chris Wallace
Pissed off, 'cause Biggie and 'Pac just missed all this
Watchin' all these cheap imitations get rich off 'em
And get dollars that shoulda been there's like they switched wallets

And amidst all this Crist poppin' and wristwatches
I had to sit back and just watch and just get nauseous
And walk around with an empty bottle of Remi Martin
Startin' shit like some twenty six year old skinny Cartman

I'm anti-Backstreet and Ricky Martin
With instincts to kill N'Sync, don't get me started
These fuckin' brats can't sing and Britney's garbage
What's this bitch retarded? Gimme back my sixteen dollars

All I see is sissies in magazines smiling
Whatever happened to whylin' out and bein' violent?
Whatever happened to catchin' a good-ol' fashioned
Passionate ass-whoopin' and gettin' your shoes coat and your hat tooken?

New kids on the block, sucked a lot of dick
Boy-girl groups make me sick
And I can't wait 'til I catch all you fagots in public
I'ma love it

Vanilla Ice don't like me, said some shit in vibe to spite me
Then went and dyed his hair just like me
A bunch of little kids wanna swear just like me
And run around screamin', "I don't care, just bite me"

I think I was put here to annoy the world
And destroy your little 4 year old boy or girl
Plus I was put here to put fear in fagots who spray Faygo Root Beer
And call themselves clowns 'cause they look queer

Fagot to dope and silent gay
Claimin' Detroit, when y'all live twenty miles away
And I don't wrestle, I'll knock you fuckin' fagots the fuck out
Ask 'em about the club they was at when they snuck out

After they ducked out the back when they saw us and bugged out
Ducked down and got paint balls shot at they truck, blaow!
Look at y'all runnin' your mouth again
When you ain't seen a fuckin' mile road, South of 10

And I don't need help, from D-12, to beat up two females
In make-up, who may try to scratch me with Lee Nails
Slim anus you damn right, slim anus
I don't get fucked in mine like you two little flaming fagots

'Coz I'm, just Marshall Mathers
I'm not a wrestler guy I'll knock you out if you talk about me
Come and see me on the streets alone, if you assholes doubt me
And if you wanna run your mouth then come take your best shot at me

Is it because you love me that y'all expect so much of me?
You little groupie bitch, get off me, go fuck Puffy
Now because of this blonde mop that's on top
It is fucked up head that I've got, I've gone pop?

The underground just spunned around and did a 360
Now these kids diss me and act like some big sissies
Oh, he just did some shit with Missy
So now he thinks he's too big to do some shit with MC get bizzy

My fuckin' bitch mom's suin' for ten million
She must want a dollar for every pill I've been stealin'
Shit, where the fuck you think I picked up the habit?
All I had to do was go in her room and lift up her mattress

Which is it bitch, Mrs. Briggs or Ms. Mathers?
It doesn't matter your, fagot!
Talkin' about I fabricated my past
He's just aggravated I won't ejaculate in his ass

So tell me, what the hell is a fella to do?
For every million I make, another relative sues
Family fightin' and fussin' over who wants to invite me to supper
All the sudden, I got 90 some cousins

A half-brother and sister who never seen me
Or even bothered to call me until they saw me on TV
Now everybody's so happy and proud
I'm finally allowed to step foot in my girlfriend's house

And then to top it off, I walked to the newsstand
To buy this cheap-ass little magazine with a food stamp
Skipped to the last page, flipped right fast
And what do I see? A picture of my big white ass

Okay, let me give you motherfuckers some help
Here, double XL, double XL
Now your magazine shouldn't have so much trouble to sell
Fuck it, I'll even buy a couple myself

'Coz I'm, just Marshall Mathers, I'm just a regular guy
I don't know why all the fuss about me
Nobody ever gave a fuck before, all they did was doubt me
Now everybody wanna run they mouth and try to take shots at me

'Coz I'm, just Marshall Mathers, I'm just a regular guy
I don't know why all the fuss about me
Nobody ever gave a fuck before, all they did was doubt me
Now everybody wanna run they mouth and try to take shots at me

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1d2969c8e67071fdf93b5e8df9882bf9

Marshall Mathers Lp - Lyrics - Digital Biography - Eminem

Title: Marshall Mathers Lp
Album: Digital Biography
Artist: Eminem
Composer(s): Jeff Bass, Mark Bass, Marshall Mathers

Lyric:
You know I just don't get it
Last year I was nobody, this year I'm sellin' records
Now everybody wants to come around like I owe 'em somethin'
Heh, the fuck you want from me, ten million dollars?
Get the fuck out of here

You see I'm, just Marshall Mathers
I'm just a regular guy, I don't know why all the fuss about me
Nobody ever gave a fuck before all they did was doubt me
Now everybody wanna run their mouth and try to take shots at me

Yo, you might see me joggin', you might see me walkin'
You might see me walkin' a dead rottweiler dog
With it's head chopped off in the park with a spiked collar
Hollerin' at him 'cause the son of a bitch won't quit barkin'

Or leanin' out a window, with a cocked shotgun
Drivin' up the block in the car that they shot 'Pac in
Lookin' for Big's killers, dressed in ridiculous
Blue and red like I don't see what the big deal is

Double barrel twelve gauge, thinkin' of Chris Wallace
Pissed off 'cause Biggie and 'Pac just missed all this
Watchin' all these cheap imitations get rich off 'em
And get dollars that shoulda been there's like they switched wallets

And amidst all this Crist' poppin' and wrist watches
I had to sit back and just watch and just get nauseous
And walk around with an empty bottle of Remi Martin
Startin' shit like some 26 year old skinny Cartman

I'm anti-Backstreet and Ricky Martin
With instincts to kill N'Sync, don't get me started
These fuckin' brats can't sing and Britney's garbage
What's this bitch retarded? Gimme back my sixteen dollars

All I see is sissies in magazines smiling
Whatever happened to whylin' out and bein' violent?
Whatever happened to catchin' a good ol' fashioned
Passionate ass-whoopin' and gettin' your shoes coat
And your hat tooken?

New Kids on the Block, sucked a lot of dick
Boy/girl groups make me sick
And I can't wait 'til I catch all you faggots in public
I'ma love it

Vanilla Ice don't like me
Said some shit in Vibe to spite me
Then went and dyed his hair just like me
A bunch of little kids wanna swear just like me

And run around screamin, "I don't care, just bite me"
I think I was put here to annoy the world
And destroy your little 4 year old boy or girl
Plus I was put here to put fear in faggots who spray Faygo Root Beer
And call themselves, clowns, 'cause they look queer

Faggot2Dope and Silent Gay
Claimin' Detroit, when y'all live twenty miles away
And I don't wrestle, I'll knock you fuckin' faggots the fuck out
Ask 'em about the club they was at when they snuck out

After they ducked out the back when they saw us and bugged out
Ducked down and got paintballs shot at they truck, blaow
Look at y'all runnin' your mouth again
When you ain't seen a fuckin' Mile Road, South of 10

And I don't need help from D-12 to beat up two females
In make-up, who may try to scratch me with Lee Nails
"Slim Anus," you damn right, Slim Anus
I don't get fucked in mine like you two little flaming faggots

'Cause I'm just Marshall Mathers
I'm not a wrestler guy, I'll knock you out if you talk about me
Come and see me on the streets alone if you assholes doubt me
And if you wanna run your mouth then come take your best shot at me

Is it because you love me that y'all expect so much of me?
You little groupie bitch, get off me, go fuck Puffy
Now because of this blonde mop that's on top
And this fucked up head that I've got, I've gone pop?

The underground just spunned around and did a 360
Now these kids diss me and act like some big sissies
"Oh, he just did some shit with Missy
So now he thinks he's too big to do some shit with MC Get-Bizzy"

My fuckin' bitch mom's suin' for ten million
She must want a dollar for every pill I've been stealin'
Shit, where the fuck you think I picked up the habit?
All I had to do was go in her room and lift up her mattress

Which is it bitch, Mrs. Briggs or Ms. Mathers?
It doesn't matter you faggot
Talkin' about I fabricated my past
He's just aggravated I won't ejaculate in his ass

So tell me, what the hell is a fella to do?
For every million I make, another relative sues
Family fightin' and fussin' over who wants to invite me to supper
All the sudden, I got 90-some cousins
(Hey, it's me)

A half-brother and sister who never seen me
Or even bothered to call me until they saw me on TV
Now everybody's so happy and proud
I'm finally allowed to step foot in my girlfriend's house

Hey, hey and then to top it off, I walked to the newsstand
To buy this cheap-ass little magazine with a food stamp
Skipped to the last page, flipped right fast
And what do I see? A picture of my big white ass

Okay, let me give you motherfuckers some help
Uhh, here double XL, double XL
Now your magazine shouldn't have so much trouble to sell
Ahh fuck it, I'll even buy a couple myself

'Cause I'm, just Marshall Mathers
I'm just a regular guy, I don't know why all the fuss about me
Nobody ever gave a fuck before, all they did was doubt me
Now everybody wanna run they mouth and take shots at me

'Cause I'm, just Marshall Mathers
I'm just a regular guy, I don't know why all the fuss about me
Nobody ever gave a fuck before, all they did was doubt me
Now everybody wanna run they mouth and take shots at me

Play the MP3 online for free!

3c2a9b3ac52767869b5ddec011a8bc8d

Tang Clan - Stick Me For My Riches - Lyrics - The 8 Diagrams - Wu

Title: Tang Clan - Stick Me For My Riches
Album: The 8 Diagrams
Artist: Wu
Composer(s): Ronald Maurice Bean, Robert F Diggs, Gary Grice, Jason Hunter, Clifford Smith

Lyric:
Ooh, wee, mmm, yeah

See, I was raised out on these mean streets
I'm from the projects, right, where poverty and hell meet
I'm searching everyday to find a better way, I've got a
Hustle still to get my pay before I hit bottom

Now some might say that I'm already there but who are
They to judge or question what I do? Son, so I don't care
Tired of eating cheese sandwiches with no meat
Tired of watching all the playas from the same seat

So it's a life of crime, some might sing or rhyme
To escape the ghetto before the flatline
Choices to make, what am I gonna do?
Got to use my talents, they gonna pull me through

Now with success, I become a target, they wanna set me up
I guess, more money equals more problems
They wanna get me, wanna hit me, strip me of my riches
They wanna cut me up in pieces, leave me deep in ditches

And I can't take it but I'm gonna make it
Yeah, oh, I'm gonna make it
Yeah, ohh, fight to stay alive

I was raised out on these mean streets
You know where poverty and hell meet
Brothers get jail and life's for sale, cheap
Since momma held me in her arms to tell me

That it's a cold world, I done held heat
And held myself down, lotta bodies and shells found
And niggas into taking everything, that ain't nailed down
We fell down, ain't hard to tell now

I ain't trying to see the cell now
Or see momma put her house up for bail now
So I'm a give all I got, to try and get that gwop
Nigga, I'm hot with this hustle

Go 'head and get the cops
I use my talent to get more figures
Unlike these little corner store niggas
Go change your drawers, niggas

Now with success and I've become a target
They wanna set me up, take me hostage
Or take me down some notches
They wanna hit me, wanna stick me, get me for my riches
They wanna diss me, want a clip me, leave me stiff in ditches

And I can't take it, no, no but I'm gonna make it.
(This ain't no game, my life ain't nothing to play with)
Yeah, I'm gonna make it, ooh
(Face it, money is power and I'm a make it)
I'm gonna make it, ooh

Yeah, I'm gon' survive, yo, yo, aiyo
N.Y. City, gritty blocks, little love, plenty cops
Few rise, many drop, True Lies, semis cocked
Fish scale, already rocked, heavy shots, that we drop
New guys on every block, blue eyes and red dots

Pregnant mothers, broke fathers, more money, more problems
So hungry, won't starve 'em, work hard and so pardon
I got mouths to feed, I got pounds of weed
I need some more, another store, another house, indeed
An X amount of G, the reason pounds'll squeeze

And strip you naked, basic, trying to make it out the P's
Don't ever doubt a G, and have me spaz like
Face with the K and my nose all powdery
It ain't about the streets, it's 'bout the beast within
That won't give in to 'lice, down to bleed, G

Now with success and I've become a target
They wanna set me up, take me hostage
Or take me down some notches
They wanna hit me, wanna stick me, get me for my riches
They wanna diss me, wanna clip me leave me stiff in ditches

And I can't take it
(Yeah)
No, no, but I'm gonna make it
(Yeah, yeah, turn the beat up a little right here)
Yeah, I'm gonna make it, ooh
(Yo, yo, yo, yeah, yo, just, Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang)

Aiyo, RZA, Meth, GZA, Deck, Ghost and Chef be cashing checks
Killa, Cap be snapping necks, Street and 'Zilla flash the tech
Sacrifice a savage life if he trying to bag my ice
Tag a price on merchandise, tell me, is it worth yo' life?

No, it's a cold, cold, cold world
You can't be playing games with my life
I've gotta fight to survive, fight to stay alive

Aiyo, metal pipes ignite, sparking fire, light the darkness night
Trying to stick me for my riches, now y'all bitches taking flight
Major business, raise the digits, tried to strike me for my life
Slice and dice, men or mice, GZA tell 'em what it's like

Aiyo, money making, people flaking, Cash Rules, fuck the bacon
Earthquaking, head is aching, bank stop, dice shaking
Times are hard, sew a job, scheming niggaz wanna rob
Use a hoe to slob ya knob, hit you with unruly mobs

Stab you in the back and smile, watch you bleed for a while
Hating on the agile, steal ya name and bite ya style
Hold you for a ransom note, Goliath cutting David's throat
Grab yo' vest, abandon boat and leave you out at sea to float

Now with success and I've become a target
They wanna set me up
I guess, more money equals more problems
They wanna hit me, wanna stick me, get me for my riches
They wanna diss me, want clip me, leave me stiff in ditches

And I can't take it, no, no but I'm gonna make it
Yeah, oh, I'm gonna make it, ooh, yeah
It's a cold, cold, cold world
I got my hand on my gun, they got a brother on the run

Yeah, it's a cold, cold, cold world
You can't be playing games with my life
I've gotta fight to survive, fight to stay alive
This ain't a game, this is my life

Keep pushing me to the edge, I'm gonna push back
And you won't like that, it's guaranteed you won't like that
When ya laid down, laid flat

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Only Fear Of Death - Lyrics - R U Still Down? (Remember Me) - 2pac

Title: Only Fear Of Death
Album: R U Still Down? (Remember Me)
Artist: 2pac
Composer(s): George Clinton, Tyruss Himes, Johnny Lee Jackson, Duane Thomas Nettlesbey, Kevin Rhames, Bernard Worrell, William Earl Collins, Walter Burns, Christopher Walker, Marcel Williams, Lavance Reed, Diron Rivers, Randy Walker, Tupac Shakur, Maurice Harding

Lyric:
Aiyyo, are you afraid to die, or do you wanna live forever
Tell me, which one?

They wanna bury me, I'm worried, I'm losin' my mind
Look down the barrel of my nine and my vision's blurry
Fallin' to pieces, am I guilty? I pray to the Lord
But he ignores me unfortunately 'cause I'm guilty

Show me a miracle, I'm hopeless, I'm chokin' off
Marijuana smoke, with every toke it's like I'm losin' focus
Fallin' to sleep while I'm at service, when will I die?
Forever paranoid and nervous because I'm high

Don't mention funerals I'm stressin', and goin' nutty
And reminiscin' 'bout them niggaz that murdered my buddy
I wonder when will I be happy, ain't nothin' funny
Flashbacks of bustin' caps, anything for money

Where am I goin' I discovered, can't nothin' save me
My next door neighbor's havin' convo with undercovers
Put a surprise in the mailbox, hope she get it
Happy birthday bitch, you know you shouldn't-a did it

Everybody's dyin' am I next, who can I trust?
Will they be G's and they look at me before they bust?
Or will they kill me while I'm sleepin', two to the head
While I'm in bed, leakin' blood on my satin' sheets

Is there a heaven for a baller? I'm gettin' suspicious
Of this bitch the line busy everytime I call her
Now she's tellin' me to visit, who else is home?
I check the house before I bone, so we all alone

After I nut I hit the highway, see ya later
To all the players watch the fly way a nigga played her
The bitch is tellin' all her homies, that I can fuck her
Like no other now them other bitches wanna bone me

I'm under pressure gettin' drunk, somebody help me
I drink a fifth of Hennesey I don't think it's healthy
I see my enemies they creepin', don't make me blast
I watch the five-oh's roll, the motherfuckers pass

By me like they know me, smilin' as they laugh
I put up my middle finger then I dash
Niggaz don't like me 'cause I'm Thuggin', and everyday
I'm a hustler lookin' to get paid

They wanna bury me, I'm worried, no need to lie
I pray to God I don't scream when it's time to fry
Nowhere to rest I'm losin' homies, ain't that a bitch
When I was rich I had clout, now a nigga's lonely

I put the pistol to my head and say a prayer
I see visions of me dead, Lord are you there?
Then tell me am I lost 'cause I'm lonely
I thought I had friends but in the end a nigga dies lonely

Nowhere to run I'm in terror and no one cares
A closed casket at my funeral and no one's there
Is there a future for a killer? I change my ways
But still that don't promise me the next day

So I stay Thuggin' with a passion, forever blastin'
I'm bustin' on these motherfuckers in my madness
They wonder if I'm hellbound, well Hell
Can't be worse than this, 'cause I'm in Hell now

Don't make me hurt you I don't want to, but I will
See motherfuckers killed over phone bills
Never will I die, I'll be back
Reincarnated as a motherfuckin' mack
I love it 'cause in Heaven there's no shortage on G's
I'm tellin' you now, you motherfuckers don't know me

Only fear of death, you ghetto niggaz
Only fear of death is comin' back reincarnated
Only fear of death, you ghetto niggaz
Only fear of death is comin' back reincarnated

Only fear of death, you ghetto niggaz
Only fear of death is comin' back reincarnated
Only fear of death, you ghetto niggaz
Only fear of death is comin' back reincarnated

Only fear of death, you ghetto niggaz
Only fear of death is comin' back reincarnated
Only fear of death, you ghetto niggaz
Only fear of death is comin' back reincarnated

Only fear of death, you ghetto niggaz
You ghetto niggaz
You ghetto niggaz
You ghetto niggaz

You ghetto niggaz
You ghetto niggaz
You ghetto niggaz
You ghetto niggaz

Are you scared, to die?
Or will you scream, when you fry?
I don't fear death
My only fear of death is comin' back, reincarnated
This is dedicated to Mental, R.I.P.
And Big Kill, R.I.P.
And all you other O.G.'s, who go down
I don't fear death

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