Big Casino - Lyrics - Chase This Light - Jimmy Eat World

Title: Big Casino
Album: Chase This Light
Artist: Jimmy Eat World
Composer(s): James Christopher Adkins, Richard E Burch, Zachary Michael Lind, Thomas Darrell Linton

Lyric:
Before this world starts up again
It's me and night
We wait for the sun
The kids and drunks head back inside

Well, there's lots of smart ideas
In books I never read
When the girls come talk to me
I wish to hell I had

Get up, get up, turn on ignition
Get up, get up, fire up the system
I play my little part in something big

I'll accept with poise, with grace
When they draw my name from the lottery
And they'll say all the salt in the world
Couldn't melt that ice

I'm the one who gets away
I'm a New Jersey success story
And they'll say, "Lord
Give me the chance to shake that hand"
They'll say

Back when I was younger
I was someone you'd've liked
Got an old guitar I've had for years
I'd let you buy

And I'll tell you something else
That you ain't dying enough to know
There's still some living left
When your prime comes and goes

Get up, get up, dance on the ceiling
Get up, get up, boy, you must be dreaming
Rock on, young savior
Don't get up your hopes

I'll accept with poise, with grace
When they draw my name from the lottery
And they'll say all the salt in the world
Couldn't melt that ice

I'm the one who gets away
I'm a New Jersey success story
And they'll say, "Lord
Give me the chance to shake that hand"

I have one last wish
And it's from my heart
Just let me down
Just let me down easy

I'll accept with poise, with grace
When they draw my name from the lottery
And they'll say all the salt in the world
Couldn't melt that ice

I'm the one who gets away
I'm a New Jersey success story
And they'll say, "Lord
Give me a chance to shake his hand"
They'll say

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43ddb767895614f52b741f98dde1b93c

Mic Check - Lyrics - What the Game's Been Missing! - Juelz Santana

Title: Mic Check
Album: What the Game's Been Missing!
Artist: Juelz Santana
Composer(s): Quincy Jones, Qaadir Atkinson, James Cleveland, Laron James

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

Lyric:
I been paying attention to what's going on out there man
I been watching you niggaz stealing my ways and shit
And it's getting out of control now
I'ma telling you dudes just like I tell my woman
Don't watch me, watch TV, this is pay per view, you gotta pay for this

First, let me take time to brush my shoulders off
Wait, I had to dust my shoulders off
Thanks, y'all been waiting, been patient, been anxious
Now, I therefore bring back me, your greatness

The rap Ali, jab I weave
Then come back with the same jab times three
I blow smoke to the heaven, I'm so close to perfection
Rap's one big casino, I'm plotting Ocean Eleven

I might have sold the least
But I still manage to be most feared by most emcees
Who holding me? Who close to me?
For sho Papi, nobody, yeah, that's how it's supposed to be

Now listen, you can either comprehend it or compliment it
It's all authentic
But you better believe whatever I say
Guess what you can bet it all I meant it

Mic check one two, one two
Mic check one two, one two
Mic check one two, what is this?
Santana's back to business, let's go

Mic check one two, one two
Mic check one two, one two
Mic check one two, what is this?
Santana's back to business, let's go

Bad news, rap dudes, I'm back, fools
Give the thrown up, this is that jack move
Ha choo, I just sneezed and the track moved
God blessed me, yes, that's true

So bright, throw lights up for me
For life married the game, throw rice up for me
So nice, throw ice up for me
Two pieces for B.I.G. and one piece for that kid

I am back, yup, put a stack up
Let it down, set it down, now, I'm 'bout to act up
For you to get rid of me, you'll need about 50 G's
In army fatigues ready to bleed please believe

If you catch me pushing a whip
It's a new coupe wit a lip
Or something foreign I'll never forget
Yes, I'm the man, bet, I'm the man
Am I here to save the day? Oh yes, I definitely am

Mic check one two, one two
Mic check one two, one two
Mic check one two, what is this?
Santana's back to business, let's go

Mic check one two, one two
Mic check one two, one two
Mic check one two, what is this?
Santana's back to business, let's go

Look homie, quick homie, get a camera get a flick
Get a load of this homie
I spit, homie, the flow so sick, homie
Once again I'm back, this is it, homie

The album's done, which mean the album's coming
Spent a while but fuck it
This time around I'm fronting
I done styled and stunted
I done wild in public, I done paid my dues
Did my hundred miles and running, now I'm back

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6530b154b9ad4143d18edcd35cf9661f

Rich Niggaz - Lyrics - 400 Degreez - Juvenile

Title: Rich Niggaz
Album: 400 Degreez
Artist: Juvenile
Composer(s): Dwayne Carter, Terius Gray, Paparue Byron Thomas, Tab Virgil

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

Lyric:
Why, why, why, why, why, why
Why, why?
Cash money, Rich Niggaz, look

Loud pipes, big rims, nigga, that's my life
As I pull up at the club, sorry, that's my knife
I know a lot of haters probably saying that, that's not right
Well, my diamonds so much bigger

So, that's my life, gleam, gleam
Now, only carry big face and you hear the ching, ching
Now, you can ask your wife and she will say the same thing
And your children be amazed when they see me on the big screen

I crack myself up, I know I talk lot but I can back myself up
Got a little house on the beach that's where I shack myself up
You ain't really got more money than me, think about it
Let's just say, somebody gave me a check to think about it

So I just bought a new Rollie and got to take a link up out it
And me with no ice is like a Prince Concert that ain't crowded
They see the Beam, and the truck, and the B12, and we was next
Then that's when I pull up in the B E L L L L EX

I'm on fire
Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot
We on fire
Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot

Juvenile I used to be R T A bound
Now, I be busting these bitches when I come around
Acting like a nigga that ain't never had shit
Look into my bed saying that's a mad hit

I'll be damned if these diamonds and golds ain't shining
My Rollie ain't rinning, my bank ain't climbing
You looking at a multi-millionaire in the flesh
Might don't have it now, but I just got me a check

I can walk it like I talk it, play it how I feel
Teach it like I preach it, now, put that in your head
Nigga, bet a thousand, shoot a thousand, ain't nothing
Smoke a pound, pop the crystal and drink something

Meet me in the casino, way in the back
Losin' money like a motherfucker, still shooting craps
Tomorrow I'll be back, I got millionaire status
We make so much money IRS be looking at us

I'm on fire
Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot
We on fire
Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot

I got more ends than Bunny have in a factory
I'm Lil Turk, I'm living large, got the baddest hoes after me
Picture me, a young nigga bawling out of control
Playing with millions, laying in condos

Nigga I shine, shine through the fuckin' week
The flyiest ride with crystal in the passenger seat
Don't hate me, 'cause I'm a little bawler
Got more weight than Angola, fucking your girl Carla

Nigga I stunt and I'm a stunt 'til I can't no more
Chest lit up like the oaks from the diamonds I sport
Yo, I can't be touched, don't think I'm too much
Nigga I'm rich, what the fuck?

Rolex crushed out with the bezel
And all the foes that get close to me got to be on my schedule
I got so much money, I don't know what to do
Buy houses and cars and break bread with my crew

I'm on fire
Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot
We on fire
Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot
B.G. on fire
Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot

Uhh, uhh, uhh, hear me, it's like, monkey see, monkey do
Rolling with the cash money runners, I stay true
'Cause when we're running and changin' on the million dollar scene
Holding together, mo de ming, mo de ming +

When I bring out the rubber around the Hummer
Followed by the Benz and the Lex Bubble
When I start they said I had no fame
Now all the girls just end up calling my name

10 G's to [Incomprehensible]
Fax the contract to big Cash Money
'Cause you know this whole clique, right with me
They're right with me, Sip pe di dy

Won't count the diamonds just around my neck
X amount a dollars on a bankroll check
If you want to really come and sing to me
Those that got me wicked, then I do somethin' for free

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aae7c1e2f22d368b0dfb4bb17b2c37e4

Flossin Season - Lyrics - 400 Degreez - Juvenile

Title: Flossin Season
Album: 400 Degreez
Artist: Juvenile
Composer(s): Christopher Dorsey, Terius Gray, Byron Thomas, Bryan Williams

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

Lyric:
Man what's up playboy?
I know you love these diamonds
Nigga, how you luv that?
All that stuntin' and frontin'
It's all about them diamonds boy

Nigga it's a pretty day and it's flossin' season
Added six tires to my new machinery
Double R like to ball like it's no tomorrow
Pretty broads and we fuckin' these superstars
Chrome rims, niggaz ridin' new Benz
TV's, Cadillacs with the new fends
Wet paint, niggaz takin' trips to the banks
Hittin' malls spendin' twenty G's like stars
Rolex, Play Stations in the Hummer
Just to show these stupid hoes that we worth somethin'

My stuntin' name Evel Knievel, keep it real
Let me pop a wheelie, hoes love stuntin' 'cause I got love
Gold slugs, stuntin' 'cause we got love
Motorbike button rims 'cause we livin' right
Game tight take a tramp make her out a champ
Overnight got the yole if your money right
Solid TV's Play Station with the B.G
It's all gravy playboy 'cause it's flossin' season
A million dollars ain't nothing to me nigga
But a million hoes is game to me playboy

Nahh nahh flossers, let me see you rollin' your rims
Ballers, helicopters, bikes and bourbans
It's on us, C-M-R are millionaires
Let 'em know it's flossin' season everywhere
We flossers, let me see you rollin' your rims
Ballers, helicopters, bikes and bourbans
It's on us, C-M-R are millionaires
Let 'em know it's flossin' season everywhere

I got to get my shine on, do it every time
Seventeens on up, that's all I ride
In ninety-eight, I been havin' them hoes throwin' up
They don't know if I'm in a helicopter or in a truck
I fuck they head up 'cause I floss so much
Police had me up 'cause a nigga so young
But you know me nigga, that ain't gon' stop B.G nigga
'Cause the next day you will see nigga

Me in somethin' else with a TV nigga
Fuck it, I'ma floss like that I got scrilla
Come try to take it, you're fuckin' with a guerrilla
I got a watch you can see from a block away
I got a chain you'll see that'll shock the day
My click do what we say, we don't stunt wit it
Off top Big Tymers gon' come with it
We layin' it down this month 'cause we got a reason
And we gon' rip shit up 'cause it's flossin' season

Nahh nahh, flossers, let me see you rollin' your rims
Ballers, helicopters, bikes and bourbans
It's on us, C-M-R are millionaires
Let 'em know it's flossin' season everywhere
Flossers, let me see you rollin' your rims
Ballers, helicopters, bikes and bourbans
It's on us, C-M-R are millionaires
Let 'em know it's flossin' season everywhere
We flossers, what what what?
I say we ballers, what what what?

This is the season for the flossers nigga
Ride top notch shit, fuck what it cost you nigga
Ain't got no TV's or CD's in it , I ain't gon' ride in it
If it ain't no overseas type shits, I ain't gon' drive it
This ain't the summer to swing the top off
This the season niggaz come out on them 20's and ball
It ain't no secret I'ma stunter, like Evel Knievel
Jumpin' out Lex's and Hummer's, showin' off for my people

When I pull up in V.I.P. they say that's a nice car
Bitches all in my face can't even make it to the bar
Me, broke and assed-out? Never that man
I got some shit up in my ear you can see from a airplane
I don't think Super D. can pull a stunt like me
Got karats on both of my pinkies, ten thousand a piece
Today I might lay low with Kent I built my house in the East
Fuck that, I'ma play bourban it's a thousand a suite

Who had the, first bourban with the livin' room set?
Who the only nigga you know that drive a burgundy jet?
How many cities you know named after me?
It's gon' be a bunch of them motherfuckers when I finish G
Now baby, I know you missed us
Big Daddy light up a room like Christmas
Shine like a light bulb rich thug
Let that little girl come over here and give a millionaire a hug
McGyver ain't liver than a, Big Tymer

Big dick a million dollars and a, Pathfinder
Mr. Betty Crocker cake maker, casino breaker
Tell shaq I got a half a mill' ridin' on the lakers
Pack my bitches up and move to the hills
Thirty days a month thirty automobiles
The Lexus or Benz that come out in the year two thousand
I got one of them bitches parked around corner by the housin'
The bike I got come out in the year two thousand ten
Eleven fifty zoop with the batman fin, the ring I got, Liberace want it
He couldn't afford that bitch but I can afford to flaunt it

Nahh nahh, flossers, let me see you rollin' your rims
Ballers, helicopters, bikes and bourbans
It's on us, C-M-R are millionaires
Let 'em know it's flossin' season everywhere
We flossers, let me see you rollin' your rims
Ballers, helicopters, bikes and bourbans
It's on us, C-M-R are millionaires
Let 'em know it's flossin' season everywhere
We flossers, what what?

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162bc5da4947ac50e3571290ba9c2d6e

Static - Lyrics - Kool Keith

Title: Static
Artist: Kool Keith
Composer(s): D Murphy, Keith Thornton

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

Lyric:
Yo, Sadat whassup?
Yo, I'm right here
I got these two girls
They ready to roll up the highway with me

Oh really?
I'ma get a little bit of gas
Think you can make that trip or what?
Yeah, I definitely can, you know that's a fact

Of course
Alright I'll be back in a few minutes
I'ma go back to the gas station and get some gas and fuel up
Alright, I'ma get some [unverified] and all that

Static, we bring trouble to your right side
Hey, as I think to myself what a wonderful world
Static, we bring trouble to your right side
Hey, Keith I just met this chick, why am I arguin' with this girl?

Static, we bring trouble to your right side
Man, we here we just livin' positive
Static, we bring trouble to your right side
Hey, we givin' it all and that's all we got to give

Bumpin' systems, rollin' down the street in Detroit, Michigan
I switch again, bucket seats with my girlfriend
Wearin' Paco in a Bronco, cologne is Pronto
Movin' quickly like the Lone Ranger, X is Tonto

Back up the turnpike, Oldsmobile's roll with two pipes
440 engine blowin' wind, through our hair extension
Two bags of six packs, with .38's, wrapped in gift packs
Big attitude she's on the two train, I roll like Mad Max
Keep it simple baby young girl, now squeeze yo' pimple

How dare you walk around ignore the First National Bank
My name is unknown,[unverified] die my family call me Hank
I go way back, like you still shop at Alexando's
Buy your sandals for your little son, named Romandos
Watch your step Theresa, chew up on your slice at Easter

Can you surround me in the black tan
My living room, trips to Cancun, with these eighty ladies
The Jefferson's to the Brady, Sanford and the Son
I want the whole world and my old girl back

She left me for the postman, now she send me letters
I got a bottle of Grand Monet, drinkin' in the stairway
With the wizard Kool Keith, and I'm SPORTIN my rhymes
Funeral chimes signal the beginnin' of the end

Cowboy with more in, with my private dancin' chicks
They live way out in the sticks, but I put em in the mix
(Uh, huh)
Took em to Reno in an old Camino, gamblin' in a casino
The movie's Al Pacino

Static, we bring trouble to your right side
Hey, as I think to myself what a wonderful world
Static, we bring trouble to your right side
Hey, Keith I just met this chick, why am I arguin' with this girl?

Static, we bring trouble to your right side
Man, we here we just livin' positive
Static, we bring trouble to your right side
Hey, we givin' it all and that's all we got to give

Got my check cashed, you posin' new, stop actin' girl, like a fool
Got the Benz on loan, Sadat rollin' by your school
You brought your frontin' friend Gwen, beggin' for the Benjamin
I'll see you a ten, with a haircut, like Scottie Pippen

My man Mark riffin in the backseat, my cousin Clifton
You get me pissed and wearin big gloves like Sonny Liston
Leon Spinks with afro on, ready to rob the Brinks
I see you got your thongs out, Daisy Dukes and buns out
You call me when you broken hearted, when your money runs out

Back from the [unverified] you did it girl the blind way
Hold your horses, and evil forces
Don't press star for Pathmark, I'll be home after dark
I'm tired of Pop Tart

Yeah, I'm touchin' Gwen with the butt love, the rubber glove
I'm touchin' that ass she swingin' her hair, claimin' she's an actress
But wasn't she that same chick I seen with the black dress?
Traded the ninety-eight for the sixty-eight Mustang

Me and Keith at the bar, do they know who we are?
Apparently, because all the drinks are free
It's, "Our house, in the middle of our street"
And when you come in here you better wipe your feet

I'm from Albuquerque, New Mex' to the great state of Texas
I rode across on a gray horse, [unverified]
Get to the sauce and add spaghetti, non-pork
(What?)
I'ma own New York, with a big spots of the BX
And German outposts, with the communists close
(No doubt)

I'm verbose, I host, the most, y'all should roast me
People watch closely and rewind me on the tape
Study this here, then look and listen
Take a step back and watch the black pearl glisten

Static, we bring trouble to your right side
Hey, as I think to myself what a wonderful world
Static, we bring trouble to your right side
Hey, Keith I just met this chick, why am I arguin' with this girl?

Static, we bring trouble to your right side
Man, we here we just livin' positive
Static, we bring trouble to your right side
Hey, we givin' it all and that's all we got to give

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d1e93f2e59945436aa453204ff274dd2

Glamour Life - Lyrics - Big Punisher

Title: Glamour Life
Artist: Big Punisher
Composer(s): Lashan Lewis, C Rios

Lyric:
Glamour life style baby, bottle the rocks
Lose the ice, 100 mil kid, money, money, money, mo
Platinum status, yeah, what up, what up?
Stick around

Yo, I plan to live a life a-glamour like my man Tony Montana
Stand and pose in front of cameras
With my golden silk pajamas on smoking Havanas, drinking Don P
Thinking beyond deeper than Gandhi, while I'm in the Diamante

Counting my G's, I'm out to be a millionaire
Dipped in gear, flickin' hundred dollar bills in the air
Oh yeah, Cuban Link is into getting Benjamin's
'Cuz if doesn't make dollars, then it doesn't make sense

I represent, I'm in to be the king of New York
Went from living in tenements to up in house resorts
I'm the Latino, that'll take you to war like Al Pacino
Even De Niro know not to gamble in my casino

Vino wanna rock, slaps, to dinners with mobsters
I got shit locked from Prospect Ave. to the tropics
Sitting on top of the world like the sun
A living legend from the Bronx, second to none, unless it's Pun

It's the glamour life, blow up the kids and the wife
Players who ain't half as nice swear to, but they sacrifice
Bottle the rock, freeze the ice, stash the dope and rice
And get ready for the glamour life

Ripped off from the infinity
Dump the body an' the shottie down the lake, leaving no identity
Just the memory, a casualty as I casually make move on my rivalries
All eyes I be, on the quest for loot

Pushing a Lexus coupe, to pursuit them troops, against the big-joker
Sipping alimoca, playing poker with some chocha
Heard an approacher, must be fam, but damn I had to smoke Pun
(Get the motherfucking gun)
Since [unverified] become the one wanted for a lump sum of G's

Dirty rats pack gats for cheese bullets of breeze at light speed
Taking your pretty wife life and sacrificing your seeds
Indeed, we let him bleed for 50 G's
Ship his body to the states, filled with 50 keys

Please, no remorse for your two face
Inside a symbol, my life throughout the motherfucking suitcase
You about to take who's place? Not Seis
Your body'll be laced, and left without a trace

The glamour life, the glamour life, yo
It's the glamour life, blow up the kids and the wife
Players who ain't half as nice swear to, but they sacrifice
Bottle the rock, freeze the ice, stash the dope and rice
And get ready for the glamour life

Yo, it's the motherfucking Don Cartagena
The leader, Terror Squad cleaner
Leave your family crying for you like Argentina, Mira
Sweet dreamer like Nas, my entourage is thick

Camouflaging this bitch, so God forbid you start some shit
My squad's equipped with an arsenal of ammunition
Hollow tips an', cop killers with the [unverified]
Accounts in Switzerland for rainy days

Nigga I'm staying paid, you's a joke
Always broke with your lazy ways
Anyway, back to the subject, in the bub-Lex
In the back seat, having rough sex

I love this glamorous life I live, having the ice and shit
Think twice, I give Christ your kids
I live life for gifts, keep the five burning while the tires turning
I blaze an L and seek a higher learning
Kaiser's learnin' everything illegally
We could de friend for years, cross me once that's theivity

It's the glamour life, blow up the kids and the wife
Players who ain't half as nice swear to, but they sacrifice
Bottle the rock, freeze the ice, stash the dope and rice
And get ready for the glamour life

Yo, the dough, the rap, the audience, party heavy till the 40's in
I'll like the Yakuza run the Orient
Take all the rent, and no man wept the path his daughter went
Dicks with the fallopian, wide as auditorium

She fuck for dough for opium, prostitute emporium
500 Benz, 500 friends sell Cambodian
8's cup of vodka, 4 cup of juice for sodium
Money, money, sweet as the smell of magnolia

It's get you down, but you spitting image of Appolonia
Now how can I go broke, pumping twenties of coke
Plus songs I wrote, milkin' dumb honeys I poke
The young blood sat on the bench in Vant Courtland, slingin'

Singing how he trying to get cash for Jordan's
Another cat toss his Beamer to get the insurance
Currency's gonna murder me, it's never enough
Breakin' my ass gettin' it, just as fast as I spend the stuff
Calling Uncle Sam's bluff dun, taxes don't bite us, bite us

My life, my life
It's the glamour life, blow up the kids and the wife
Players who ain't half as nice swear to, but they sacrifice
Bottle the rock, freeze the ice, stash the dope and rice
And get ready for the glamour life

The glamour life, play precise, defense is tight
I'm out to settle the score, let's do it right
Enough for looking at grave, it's paying back tonight
Yo Twin pass the lah, pass the light

The glamour life, this life I live is trife as shit
Least my wife and kid got somewhere nice to live
I used to live in the gutter, me and my mother
Now she's fifty years old, pushing a hummer

The glamour life, hand me a knife I'll slice and dice
Minimize, send them to Christ in the after life
Pass the mic down the line, let them hear it
Let them fear it, send it screaming to the Holy Spirit

Glamour life, the glamour life, the glamour life
It's the glamour life, yo it's the glamour, it's the glamour life
Glamour life, glamour life, glamour life
Cock the hammer, in this motherfucking life, bitch

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8c64b709d60e558313873946f149f327

James And The Cold Gun - Lyrics - Kate Bush

Title: James And The Cold Gun
Artist: Kate Bush
Composer(s): Kate Bush

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

Lyric:
James, come on home
You?ve been gone too long, baby
We can?t let our hero
Die alone

We miss you day and night
You left town to live by the rifle
You left us to fight
But it just ain?t right to take away the light

Remember Genie from the casino?
She?s still awaiting in that big brass bed
The boys from your gang are knocking whiskey back
?Til they get out of hand and wish they were dead
They?re only lonely for the life that they led
With their old friend

Ooh, James, are you selling your soul to a cold gun?

Where lies your heart?
It?s not there in the buckskin', baby
It?s not there in the gin
That makes you laugh long and loud

You?re a coward, James
You?re running away from humanity
You?re running away from reality
It won?t be funny when they rat-a-tat-tat you down

Remember Genie from the casino?
She?s still awaiting in that big brass bed
The boys from your gang are knocking whiskey back
?Til they get out of hand and wish they were dead
They?re only lonely for the life that they led
With their old friend

Ooh, James, are you selling your soul to a cold gun?

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0e10ab19c4c4c54166ee4fb3cec1ed09

Cuban Necktie - Lyrics - Skull & Bones - Cypress Hill

Title: Cuban Necktie
Album: Skull & Bones
Artist: Cypress Hill
Composer(s): Louis M. Freeze, Lawrence Muggerud

Lyric:
I do it to ya all like in your earhole, 'cause
I'ma "Goodfella" just like Deniro, punk
I'm a ten, you just a fucking zero, huh
I get your woman off like Robbie Shapiro, what
You want jellyroll son, I'm a hero, oh
You're on your knees on my dick like a clit hoe then
You say you hate me but you follow my carrer though huh
Wanna see a trick I make you disappear yo, yo
I make it hotter than a fuckin' inferno
Wanna test you comin up shorter than DeVito
I'll scar your face when I cut you like Pacino
You gamble with your life inside of my "Casino"
Hold up I'm runnin shit just like Gambino
I got the hogs sweatin' more than Bob Barino
I switch tongue buenos caso me camino
Then I switch it back 'cause in that style I swing yo
Beat your head like a drumSPANISH
I sit back simply pretend I'm regal
Slay you any style yeah whatever type of lingo
I'm a "Natural Rhyme Killer" like Tarrantino, yeah

Run your mouth, with your chest out
Go get you a wreck check, dealt with real quick
All that fake tough guy shit, rough guy shit
All that rah rah shit, go get your neck slit

Call me breakin' think you know my nigga Dino
With the Ratpack nigga sippin on vino
I give it to you double XXL like Chino
I'm the eastsidah who's reppin Angelino's
I know you trippin but I'm due another single, ha
Treat the music like my honey got a wrinkle, yeah
I'm the mushroom?
You couldn't hang with a joint from Domingo's
So, you gotta make room when you hear my jingle
Like I crack your head with the bat, big bambino style
You smoked out there in San Bernadino
We fuck shit up with the harcore steelo
Bandito, light your lighter then a key lo
I'm megachron got you wet like a Primo
Cancerous rhyme now that you needin chemo
Peace to my fam out in El Cerino
That's right punk,?
Better watch your back, who's pilin up cochinos

Run your mouth, with your chest out
Go get you a wreck check, dealt with real quick
All that fake tough guy shit, rough guy shit
All that rah rah shit, go get your neck slit

Run your mouth, with your chest out
Go get you a wreck check, dealt with real quick
All that fake tough guy shit, rough guy shit
All that rah rah shit, go get your neck slit

Killin niggas like a Sicilian named Gino
When your numbers up all my nigga yell regal
You a fine woman, was a fine Phillipino, then
She looked good in the black Benzino, yeah
Yo' style's not yours like Doritos
With the fabulous fall just like the Beatles
Platinum dust oh now you wanna sprinkle, well
I clown niggas much more than Melenko's, heh
For all the wild ones and all my vecino's
Never get your ass caught up with a stank hoe
Pussy weigh deeper than a big fucking ?zinko?
Don't be mad I'm lookin out for my amigo
You wanna copy my style go to Kinko's
Watch me reload it just like Carlito
My style so dope they should label it illegal
You want beef then I call my nigga Steebo
Whip your ass up just like Niccoleo
Sayin my name burst your mark like "Tapateo!", punk
You can't deal with it, you can't deal with it
You can't deal with it, it's Cypress Hill with it

Run your mouth, with your chest out
Go get you a wreck check, dealt with real quick
All that fake tough guy shit, rough guy shit
All that rah rah shit, go get your neck slit

Run your mouth, with your chest out
Go get you a wreck check, dealt with real quick
All that fake tough guy shit, rough guy shit
All that rah rah shit, go get your neck slit

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d4b704f4c32ee021ea248a142ce90971

Z - Fallin' - Lyrics - American Gangster - Jay

Title: Z - Fallin'
Album: American Gangster
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Shawn C Carter, Jermaine Dupri, Anthony Hester

Lyric:
I know I should'nt have did that
I know it's gonna come right back
I know it's gonna destroy everythin' I made
It's probably gonna get your boy sent away
But this game I play ain't no way to fix it
It's inevitable that I'm

Said where I would stop be fore I even started
When I get to one brick then the game I would depart with
Got to one brick then I looked to the sky like
Sorry God, I lied but give me one more try

Got the two bricks new cars new whips
But niggas never learn till they end up in the news clip
The irony of sellin' drugs is sort of like you using it
Guess it's two sides to what substance abuse is

Can't stop, won't stop addicted to this new shit
Brand new convertibles, I'm so roofless
Front row fight night, see how big my tube is
Fuck HD nigga, see how clear my view is?

But there's a price for overdoing it
Doin' it this big will put you on the map
Stick-up kids is out to tax
Plus the FBI boys with the cameras in the back
Damn

I know I should'nt have did that
I know it's gonna come right back
I know it's gonna destroy everythin' I made
It's probably gonna get your boy sent away
But this game I play ain't no way to fix it
It's inevitable, now you fallin'

When you should've fall back, now you fallin'
Right into they lap fallin' and applaudin'
And they screamin' at the screen
Damn you fucked up like your favorite movie scene

Godfather, Goodfellas, Scarface, Casino
You seen what that last run did to De Niro
And he can't beat the odds, can't cheat the cards
Can't blow to hard, life's a deck of cards

Now you tumblin', it's humblin', you fallin', you mumblin'
Under your breath like you knew this day was comin', fallin'
Now let's pray that arm candy
That you left your ex for stay down and come in handy

'Cause come January it gets cold
When the letters start to slow, when your commissary's low
And lawyers screams appeal only thinkin' about a bill
And your chances are nil damn gravity's ill

I know I should'nt have did that
I know it's gonna come right back
I know it's gonna destroy everythin' I made
It's probably gonna get your boy sent away
But this game I play ain't no way to fix it
It's inevitable, but you're fallin'

And you can't get up, all you do is push-up, pull-up, sit-up
Locked down the town now belongs to the squares
Who said they won't make the same mistake that got you there
And your arm candy sweet on em'

And the woman that you left for this heffer got a college degree comin'
Bad news keeps comin', hard to keep somethin' on your stomach
Your sick 'bout what ya life is becomin'

But your use-to's has-beens raggin' bad 'bout all the new dudes
Talking tough on the Youtube
'Bout what you use to do but that's old school to the new crew
They doin' numbers like Sudoku

There're the new you and it's damn near inevitable
They'll experience deja vu too
Fight and you'll never survive, run and you'll never escape
So just fall from grace, damn

I know I should'nt have did that
I know it's gonna come right back
I know it's gonna destroy everythin' I made
It's probably gonna get your boy sent away
But this game I play ain't no way to fix it
It's inevitable that I'm

Fallin', seems like I'm fallin'
Fallin', seems like I'm fallin'
Fallin', seems like I'm fallin'
Fallin', seems like I'm fallin'

Fallin', seems like I'm fallin'
Fallin', seems like I'm fallin'
Fallin', seems like I'm fallin'
Fallin', seems like I'm

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d5b965a9237645bd999744daf1f9f03c

Til I Am Myself Again - Lyrics - Casino - Blue Rodeo

Title: Til I Am Myself Again
Album: Casino
Artist: Blue Rodeo
Composer(s): Greg Keelor, Jim Cuddy

Lyric:
I wanna know where my confidence went
One day it all disappeared
As I'm lyin' in a hotel room miles away
Voices next door in my ear

Well, daytime's a drag, nighttime's worse
Hope that I can get home soon
But the half-finished bottles of inspiration
Lie like ghosts in my room

Well, I wanna go, I know I can't stay
But I don't wanna run feelin' this way

Til I am myself
Til I am myself
Til I am myself again

There's a seat on the corner, I keep every night
Wait 'til the evening begins
And I feel like a stranger from another world
But at least I'm livin' again

There were nights full of anger, words that were thrown
Temper that is shattered and thin
But the moments of magic are just to short
They're over me before they begin

Well, I know it's time, one big step
I can't go, I'm not ready yet

Til I am myself
Til I am myself
Til I am myself again

I had a dream that my house was on fire
People laughed while it burned
Well, I tried to run but my legs were numb
I had to wait 'til the feeling returned

Well, I don't need a doctor to figure it out
I know what's passing me by
When I look in the mirror sometimes I see
Traces of some other guy

Well, I wanna go, I know I can't stay
I don't wanna run, feeling this way

Til I am myself
Til I am myself
Til I am myself again

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4c3482c7bd5984357a3ec9ea7b488051

Where I'M From - Lyrics - S.D.E. - Cam'Ron

Title: Where I'M From
Album: S.D.E.
Artist: Cam'Ron
Composer(s): Darrell Branch, Cameron Giles

Lyric:
Oh shit once again nigga

I'm from where niggas get killed for running they mouth
I'm from where niggas get they weight up in front of they house
Cop coke strap it to the waist of they spouse
I don't think I'll ever know what all this hatin' about
Got a deal I don't know what perpetrating about
Got big guns dog one pop and you out

Love women that suck and keep the nut in they mouth
While I lean back gee king how she loving my house
Let me tell you three things that the Dutch is about
'Cuzzi bubbles grands slow dick in yo mouth
And when you hear that moan he kicking you out
Hell naw I'm ain't no hater that's just what I'm about

Ayo they wanna flip me bounce me half and quarter ounce me
Try to speak my name out loud and mispronounce me
Hit me four five rubber grip me them hoes love me in a five
But the dealer trying to six me, dimes wanna twist me
Nah you can't kiss me go 'head with the mo' at the bar
You better cris me baby blue 528 doing sixty

Cuttin' swiftly duckin' fifty
Hit my hoe crib for a nice dick suck and a quickly
Killa cam, Dutch and the spade flow sickly
The streets shifty so I keep my tool
If yo ass wanna live you better keep your cool
Motherfucker

Yo, yo, yo where I'm from they let the cartridge blast
Everybody smart in math loan sharks with cash
Running from the narks and task streets arts and craft
Come on I start to laugh 'cause I almost caught the case with
Rich Parker ass now a niggas paid out suede couch
I'm into hooded things bitch butt be way out

These cats be he cliff when I come around they play mouse
Mickey and Minnie Jerry from Tom heavy in arms
In front of bam bam Hanna Barbara lover collar big
Cotton candy blue gators polishment
Y'all in astonishment looking for acknowledgment
We pour it on 'em meet a snitch throw wall off on 'em

Any repercussions make sure my seeds bubble
If you ain't hear me on clue I said I see double
Guns double tecks hoes double sex
Accountant handle my money but I double check
Bubble lex ain't too much more I care about
Liquor store and the Bronx old warehouse clear it out
L's with my liquor sounds sew a helluva whisper

Gasing up a hoe tell her you miss her
Dealing with the old timers was a helluva listener
Business sale a few differ nigga pelican slippers
Mommy is senseless get my moola I'm conscientious
Tell Medi she buy me benzes pour favor
Harlem mamma poor we fell off but back on nigga time to ball

Hung 45th and Lennox 3 piece suit bean pies the final call
Gun up in the spinal cord I got no time for y'all
We 8 digits you play frigate killa don't cook he blaze biscuits
Around us straight midgets jewels we keep frozen
Y'all keep dozing the wolf in sheeps clothes and
Streets buzzing V dozen bitches calling me husband

Saying we fuck when we wasn't
Lying on her coochie I'm dyin' for a hoochie
With an iron for a boobie casino style diamonds in the doopey
But killa keep running to the timing of a groupie
But need work plate of a kind if ya dope ain't 8 or a 9
Don't waste up my time you racing for shine

Only way you be around motherfucking paper boy
If you quit your job and go be a paper boy
Cars swoop buck fifty gun shoot buck fifty
Bear facts buck fifty air max buck fifty
Only New York nigga to fuck with me
On her period blood sticky same night flood missy
Play Toronto like Doug Christy

Fuck Christy Louie the 13 slugs with me gimme head
Yo Quero kin chi blunt to my head
But my day is Friday toast for my bread
Niggas try to stick together like they Smokey and Craig
In real life nia think I'm "Long" and throw me the head
Heard what I said

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ebc3c1345f9d0d12dea43e0575b31f10

Pendemic - Lyrics - Me Myself & I - Fat Joe

Title: Pendemic
Album: Me Myself & I
Artist: Fat Joe
Composer(s): Joseph Cartagena, Nicholas Warwar

Lyric:
Yeah, I don't give a fuck
Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you too
Fuck you rappers, fuck the industry
Fuck anybody who don't fuck with me
This is the Pendemic, yo

Yeah, we get it poppin', them hammers go, the Spanish bro
'Crucial Conflict', I'm 'Do or Die' with the flow, yeah
Joe Pesci in 'Casino', you know
Poked him 40 times, hit him once more for the road

Yeah, I'm bein' honest, your honor, I killed the man
But he was a fuckin' problem, your honor
They say Joey's a killer, every time body shit
Every verse iller, ain't nobody's hot as this

You know me, I'm a one man army
Even though millions'll follow just like Gandhi
I'm Malcolm, shit, I bring it out 'em
Body on Broadway, now nobody can doubt him

Must I be a backpacker or Black Eye Pea
Or spit consciousness just to win a Grammy?
Nah, Big L listen me
The soul of Big Pun is flowin' through me

Yeah, Biggie Smalls is rollin' with me
I'm way over your head, you like creativity?
I'm a gangsta rapper, Lord, forgive the shit I'm sayin'
But You'd be surprised where my music be playin'

Yeah, that's what they wanna hear
Shit, Joey from the Bronx, I'm a pistoleer
I keep gunnin' for 'em, they keep runnin' from me
I'm about my money, give a fuck, I'm livin' comfortably, yeah

Yeah, I'm right here, middle of the ghetto
Sweatpants saggin' 'cause I'm packin' heavy metal
Yeah, I made the switch from clear top to yellow
Mami yellin' out the window 'Oye, dejate con eso'

I hate that nigga, get me sick, man, look at him
Soon as I get enough, I'ma cuff and throw the book at him
He ain't get all this shit from this fuckin' rap money
And every time we stop him, nigga think he something funny

Shit, heard he sell cracks on the block, caught a body
Listen to his raps, he call himself John Gotti
Officer, officer, please don't be biased
Don't you know all of us rappers are great liars?

We like to exaggerate, dream and imaginate
Sensationalize bringin' packs 'cross state
And y'all niggaz lyin' 'cause young niggas dyin'
Over in Iraq, yeah, families are cryin'

Controversies like 'Oil for food'
Worldwide Pendemics, now we got the bird flu
Africa's in crisis, please give aid
Must we do everything like organize Live Aid?
Shit, Katrina, Katrina, oh, Ms. Katrina
I'm lookin' for some benefits, tell me have you seen her?

Yeah, this is the Pendemic, we outta here
See you next time if it is a next time, yeah
Thanks to Joey Crack the gangsta rapper
Do this shit 'My Way' like Frank Sinatra, you know, bye

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ce2d4857702dfc9d0c41ae5c5c07a63f

Z - In My Lifetime - Lyrics - Jay

Title: Z - In My Lifetime
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Jay Burks, Shawn Carter, Hayden Brown, Beresford Romeo

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

Lyric:
This song here is dedicated to Danny Dan and may he rest in peace
Who at his funeral left us with the words that
He did it his way
(Uh huh, uh huh)
So I have no other choice but to do it my way
Uh huh, uh huh

Uhh, while niggaz are shootin' stupid
I'm carefully plottin' ways to make it rotten
Well, planned hits until you're long forgotten
Y'all niggaz that utilize my style don't hurt me

'Cause on the low half of these rappin' ass niggaz wanna work for me
Now picture me standin' on somebody block tryin' to rock
I drop bombs and niggaz see me with that dough by eight o'clock
My feet never touch the concrete, just street sweep awards

While you're starin' on my dick nigga, gimme yours
I don't hassle with capsules, 'cause that'll make the grass grow
And get a project nigga paid up the asshole
If I'ma risk a frisk, gettin' my wrists wrapped up in steel

I'm out here tryin' to make a mill', my shit is real for real
While others worship guns I worship tons of money
Tons of fun, laughin' at shit that ain't even funny
So I ain't pressed to make a CD, I took it slow

Eighty percent of these niggaz with deals
Can't see me with the dough, uh

In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of dough
I need a whole lot of dough
(For real)
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of stash
I need a whole lot of cash
(Stay real)

In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of dough
I need a whole lot of dough
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of stash
I need a whole lot of cash

(For real)
(True)
(True)

More ice than winter ninety-four
I toured the fifty states with a trunk of raw
Recrutin', I'm hittin' shorties with consignment but don't play me
Oh, you gon' pay me, y'all niggaz ain't crazy

I'm laid back in the five thousand Italian leather seat recliner
Under some vagina, discussin' the finer, things
My crib is mean, watchin' a hundred inch screen
Lettin' the shorties slide by once in a while and let 'em dream

They think I've mastered the game, 'cause dames scream my name
With passion, I tell 'em stop flashin' and start stashin'
And we'll all get off the corner, the only heat you'll feel
Is from a sauna, lettin' bubbles shoot up your ass if you wanna

And fuck that weed, it keeps you broke, invest in
Pounds of herbs and profit if niggaz wanna smoke dope
But keep your nuts, 'cause this is a man's game
And we'll all pop champagne till it's a damn shame

In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of dough
I need a whole lot of dough
(For real)
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of stash
I need a whole lot of cash
(Stay real)

In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of dough
I need a whole lot of dough
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of stash
I need a whole lot of cash

I'm shootin' to Vegas, gamblin' green-o at the casino
Schoolin' the dice like Vinny Barberino
Welcome back, the ninety-four version of the mack
As soon as these ladies see me they don't know how to act

'Cause like that, nigga, never twist the cap of malt liquor
Only pop and droppin' Cristal's down my throat, take a swigga
My style, ladies intoxicated by my profile
Your rollin' with a pro with, money to blow child

You need to feel how sweet the skills be
To come and slide down Sugar Hill with me
The high roller, rolled up on your dice game
Unfold a pack of bills, grab my balls then bet it all

I never slept, 'cause sleepin' keeps you deep in debt
On the block you lucky if you see my silhouette
I'm ghost, envied by most
So I keep a crew of crazy tenants that's sling toast, fucker

In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of dough
I need a whole lot of dough
(For real)
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of stash
I need a whole lot of cash
(Stay real)

In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of dough
I need a whole lot of dough
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of stash
I need a whole lot of cash

Haha, f'real, Jay-Z lives
Ski, Roc-a-Blok Productions, uh-huh, uh-huh
Dame Dash, ha-ha
Roc-a-fella Records, uh huh

Everybody from Brooklyn
Sauce Money, Big Sarge, B Hah
DJ Clark Kent, everybody Uptown
[Unverified] my V-A click running thick
D'Shawn definitely in the house
Roughness y'all, this how we do

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ccce2c273f1d0e889a0e18987651c280

Put Your Money - Lyrics - Red Light District - Ludacris

Title: Put Your Money
Album: Red Light District
Artist: Ludacris
Composer(s): Michael Guy, Chris Bridges

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

Lyric:
Bet a hundred, bet a hundred, bet a thousand, bet a stack
Bet a million, put your money where yo' mouth is
Bet a hundred, bet a hundred, bet a thousand, bet a stack
Bet a million, put your money where yo' mouth is

Bet a hundred, bet a hundred, bet a thousand, bet a stack
Bet a million, put your money where yo' mouth is
Bet a hundred, bet a hundred, bet a thousand, bet a stack
Bet a million, put your money where yo' mouth is

Let it rush through your veins, 'cause I'ma be the one
To step up and put a hundred thousand dollars on the game
Got a pocket full of change and they C-note stacks
Bustin' dominoes, spades, cee-lo, craps

We shootin' pool at the Luda-plex, I slap a hundred on the table
Just to see if any fools wanna do it next
I got games galore, I got game for sure
And when I win I spit game to whores

Or double it back, I'll double the stacks
Throw a dub, a big face or double the stack, boy
And we can 'bout anything that you wanna do
But come up short and oh the thangs that the gun'll do

Throw in the towel 'cause I'm makin' 'em sweat
Or put your house on the line and I can cover the bet
So hurry up and come get some, if you want some
You know the phrase, scared money don't make none

Bet a hundred, bet a hundred, bet a thousand, bet a stack
Bet a million, put your money where yo' mouth is
Bet a hundred, bet a hundred, bet a thousand, bet a stack
Bet a million, put your money where yo' mouth is

Bet a hundred, bet a hundred, bet a thousand, bet a stack
Bet a million, put your money where yo' mouth is
Bet a hundred, bet a hundred, bet a thousand, bet a stack
Bet a million, put your money where yo' mouth is

Throw some money on the books, 'cause I know how to call 'em
Somebody tell my fam I got a gamblin' problem
I don't know when to stop, maybe when somebody's
Drug away by the cops, or when I'm blowin' steam

Countin' green in the drop, because whether legal or illegal
All my people bring the strength to the block
Yes sir, I thought you knew it, we loco
We'll bet on anything, just to see if anybody's gon' do it

It's people livin' they life comin' up off change
And hustlers payin' they bills comin' up off games
Whether it's Madden or it's Live, tell 'em pick up the sticks
They call me Mr. Put-Down-Two-And-Pick-Up-Six

They walk away with a clean slate, catch me out in A.C.
Callin' yo' bluff with Puff eatin' cheesecake
So all my ramblers, runners and money scramblers
Put your drinks up to all compulsive gamblers

Bet a hundred, bet a hundred, bet a thousand, bet a stack
Bet a million, put your money where yo' mouth is
Bet a hundred, bet a hundred, bet a thousand, bet a stack
Bet a million, put your money where yo' mouth is

Bet a hundred, bet a hundred, bet a thousand, bet a stack
Bet a million, put your money where yo' mouth is
Bet a hundred, bet a hundred, bet a thousand, bet a stack
Bet a million, put your money where yo' mouth is

I'm up in Vegas with a stack of black chips
Breakin' the whole casino and doin' backflips, man
Cameras eyein' us, side betters tryin' us
The more chips we stack, the more drinks they buyin' us

Tryin' to get me off my grind, but it won't work
'Cause I can drink a fifth of gin and it don't hurt
I'm still breakin' 'em, and dice still shakin' 'em
I'll step in any place, just ask X what I say to 'em

Bet a hundred, bet a hundred, bet a thousand, bet a stack
Bet a million, put your money where yo' mouth is
Bet a hundred, bet a hundred, bet a thousand, bet a stack
Bet a million, put your money where yo' mouth is
...

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360c7c79fc64749a61f184bd84b7375a

Who Are You Now? - Lyrics - Barbra Streisand

Title: Who Are You Now?
Artist: Barbra Streisand
Composer(s): Robert Merrill, Jule Styne

Lyric:
Nick is not in the audience for Fanny's opening night
And she's worried but when he makes a late appearance at the party
She's angry at him until he tells her that
A hurricane has destroyed their casino and he's lost all her money

Fanny doesn't think it's that big a deal
And this makes Nick angry
Fanny doesn't understand why

Who are you now
Now that you're mine?
Are you something more
Than you were before?

Are you warmer in the rain
Are you stronger for my touch
Am I giving too little
By my lovin' you too much?

How is the view
Sunny and green?
How do you compare it to
The views you've seen?

I know I am better, braver and surer too
But you, are you now
Who are you now?
Are you someone better for my love?

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81fe335f162113dcd0601b233f6b154d

Z - In My Lifetime (Remix) - Lyrics - Jay

Title: Z - In My Lifetime (Remix)
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Jay Burks, Shawn Carter, Hayden Brown, Beresford Romeo

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

Lyric:
This song here is dedicated to Danny Dan and may he rest in peace
Who at his funeral left us with the words that
He did it his way
(Uh huh, uh huh)
So I have no other choice but to do it my way
Uh huh, uh huh

Uhh, while niggaz are shootin' stupid
I'm carefully plottin' ways to make it rotten
Well, planned hits until you're long forgotten
Y'all niggaz that utilize my style don't hurt me

'Cause on the low half of these rappin' ass niggaz wanna work for me
Now picture me standin' on somebody block tryin' to rock
I drop bombs and niggaz see me with that dough by eight o'clock
My feet never touch the concrete, just street sweep awards

While you're starin' on my dick nigga, gimme yours
I don't hassle with capsules, 'cause that'll make the grass grow
And get a project nigga paid up the asshole
If I'ma risk a frisk, gettin' my wrists wrapped up in steel

I'm out here tryin' to make a mill', my shit is real for real
While others worship guns I worship tons of money
Tons of fun, laughin' at shit that ain't even funny
So I ain't pressed to make a CD, I took it slow

Eighty percent of these niggaz with deals
Can't see me with the dough, uh

In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of dough
I need a whole lot of dough
(For real)
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of stash
I need a whole lot of cash
(Stay real)

In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of dough
I need a whole lot of dough
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of stash
I need a whole lot of cash

(For real)
(True)
(True)

More ice than winter ninety-four
I toured the fifty states with a trunk of raw
Recrutin', I'm hittin' shorties with consignment but don't play me
Oh, you gon' pay me, y'all niggaz ain't crazy

I'm laid back in the five thousand Italian leather seat recliner
Under some vagina, discussin' the finer, things
My crib is mean, watchin' a hundred inch screen
Lettin' the shorties slide by once in a while and let 'em dream

They think I've mastered the game, 'cause dames scream my name
With passion, I tell 'em stop flashin' and start stashin'
And we'll all get off the corner, the only heat you'll feel
Is from a sauna, lettin' bubbles shoot up your ass if you wanna

And fuck that weed, it keeps you broke, invest in
Pounds of herbs and profit if niggaz wanna smoke dope
But keep your nuts, 'cause this is a man's game
And we'll all pop champagne till it's a damn shame

In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of dough
I need a whole lot of dough
(For real)
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of stash
I need a whole lot of cash
(Stay real)

In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of dough
I need a whole lot of dough
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of stash
I need a whole lot of cash

I'm shootin' to Vegas, gamblin' green-o at the casino
Schoolin' the dice like Vinny Barberino
Welcome back, the ninety-four version of the mack
As soon as these ladies see me they don't know how to act

'Cause like that, nigga, never twist the cap of malt liquor
Only pop and droppin' Cristal's down my throat, take a swigga
My style, ladies intoxicated by my profile
Your rollin' with a pro with, money to blow child

You need to feel how sweet the skills be
To come and slide down Sugar Hill with me
The high roller, rolled up on your dice game
Unfold a pack of bills, grab my balls then bet it all

I never slept, 'cause sleepin' keeps you deep in debt
On the block you lucky if you see my silhouette
I'm ghost, envied by most
So I keep a crew of crazy tenants that's sling toast, fucker

In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of dough
I need a whole lot of dough
(For real)
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of stash
I need a whole lot of cash
(Stay real)

In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of dough
I need a whole lot of dough
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of stash
I need a whole lot of cash

Haha, f'real, Jay-Z lives
Ski, Roc-a-Blok Productions, uh-huh, uh-huh
Dame Dash, ha-ha
Roc-a-fella Records, uh huh

Everybody from Brooklyn
Sauce Money, Big Sarge, B Hah
DJ Clark Kent, everybody Uptown
[Unverified] my V-A click running thick
D'Shawn definitely in the house
Roughness y'all, this how we do

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All Or Nuthin - Lyrics - Ras Kass

Title: All Or Nuthin
Artist: Ras Kass
Composer(s): John Austin, C Mitchell, Fredrick Taylor

Lyric:
All or nuthin', stall the bluffin', won't let the po-po arrest me
Try to hit the deck to bless me
But I'm still broke so I ride like Frank and Jessie
But they can't catch me, breakin' niggas off like a sawed off

Comin' for the fedder, man, my millimeter bringin' better things
When I pull like a better bang, so if I have to, I'ma let it rang
Gotta handle my functions, but an outcome, I have a somethin'
Instead of nuthin', haters hold me down
And servin' through a stick up or somethin'

Now, I gotta pick up the pump and let it ride
All or nuthin', step aside, or you can hit the paper big time
You gon' murder like strick nine, with a grip nine, sever bitch time
'Cause I gotta mine, and it's on

Why you cummin' up short
Like a million midgets masturbatin?
Mascaradin' as the most murderous madman militia
My nigga Twista told me

Monopolize, strategize, maximize, make money to win
With career sinners intake us, sinners
Turn ya hopeless into magenta, quick essential inventor
Please, we seizin' bees, VL's and GD's

Got OG's, OZ's, keys for these millionaire momi?s
Release your shells, my nigga
Knew the job was dangerous, when I took it, why's a player
Dark tides, or say on how to walk crooked, look it

Got a sophisticated home
I'm assassin' bitches that give my shotgun barrel blow jobs
So when the four stickin' out like a sore toe thong
It's no prob, vocally for sure, squad thorough, man

Gotta up that cash, gotta up that dough
Stacks that you can't flow, kick in the door, we on the floor
Come up off a G and 2 hundred mo'
Gotta up that cash, gotta up that dough
Shit, all or nuthin', no bluffin', if I have to, I'm bustin'

Nigga worthless to bones, like nickels to quarters
Fallers to shot callers, all of gotta get the paper some how
For the school of the gun style, see me 'til the cops call us
Hell brought us to a situation where we gotta drive-by
Let the bullets from my nine fly to murder who you was deprived by

But I admit sometimes if it wasn't for crime, I
Try to be, bokin', rollers, while the start keep it low, goin? homeless
So I'm hookin' up with Ras Kass on some shit, we can stack cash
But if I have to pull back a rag fast on that ass nigga

He set the streets full wit jackals
Racists, crackers and cannibals
So it's understandable why I'm half man, half animal
Ridin? through in the hood on my elephant like Hannibal

See I used to have dreams of fuckin' an r&b bitch
And I used to dreams of bein' 21 and rich
Not a twice that bad though, now I'm tryin? to be rich by age 25
See Shallah survive that new world, they pay yo
But you don't hear me

Gotta up that cash, gotta up that dough
Stacks that you can't flow, kick in the door, we on the floor
Come up off a G and 2 hundred mo'
Gotta up that cash, gotta up that dough
Shit, all or nuthin', no bluffin', if I have to, I'm bustin'

Home boy, my games tight
I could talk the Virgin Mary outta panties the same night
From a cocoon on the dark side of the moon
The illest niggas existin', I know who you are
U-Bar, fuck the beyond or recognition

In the middle of the ghetto, I'm buildin' a casino
Like Bugsy Siegel with me, gon' put niggas and Latinos
Shootout with the ATF in Beemer, for free, see bone, see dough
Nigga, I'm like Steve and Digo, except I pack sevente cinqo
Rowdy, Los Angelino, you got knocked the fuck out like Deebo

Gotta up that cash, gotta up that dough
Stacks that you can't flow, kick in the door, we on the floor
Come up off a G and 2 hundred mo'
Gotta up that cash, gotta up that dough
Shit, all or nuthin', no bluffin', if I have to, I'm bustin'

Gotta up that cash, gotta up that dough
Stacks that you can't flow, kick in the door, we on the floor
Come up off a G and 2 hundred mo'
Gotta up that cash, gotta up that dough
Shit, all or nuthin', no bluffin', if I have to, I'm bustin'

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