Bomb Hands - Lyrics - Social Code

Title: Bomb Hands
Artist: Social Code
Composer(s): Morgan Gies, Logan Jacobs, Greg Johnston, Travis Nesbitt, Ben Shillabeer, Simon Wilcox

Lyric:
With a match in his hands
He breaks down the tallest buildings
He's a bomb and his fuse is always burning
Everything he touches always falls to pieces
The pain and the rage eases everything

I'm tied to your tragedies
I'm tired of your miseries, swearing on me
Like your bomb hands, like your bomb hands
Like your bomb hands, get back, get back

In the mirror I see reflections of your laughing
I'd get away but I'm handcuffed to his heartbeat
Everything he touches always falls to pieces
The pain and the rage eases everything

I'm tied to your tragedies
I'm tired of your miseries, swearing on me
Like your bomb hands, like your bomb hands
Like your bomb hands, get back, get back

Match to the flint, to the fuse, to the fuel
From the spark to the clock as the seconds start to drop
Match to the flint, to the fuse, to the fuel
From the spark to the clock as the seconds start to drop

Like your bomb hands, like your bomb hands
Like your bomb hands, like that, like that
Like your bomb hands, like your bomb hands
Like your bomb hands, get back, get back

Tock, tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock

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544f79740c192ce34c091aa76ab5bc5f

I'M A Bomb - Lyrics - Unwritten - Natasha Bedingfield

Title: I'M A Bomb
Album: Unwritten
Artist: Natasha Bedingfield
Composer(s): Stephen Alan Kipner, Andrew Marcus Frampton, Natasha Bedingfield, Wayne Wilkins

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

Lyric:
Yeah, yeah, woah, wo wo

Taxi ride, going downtown
Me and my girls, going out
Counting down, to destination
Ten to zero, mushroom cloud

Little angel, I've been too good
Ditch the halo, for a while
Dress to kill, I'll be causing
Mass destruction, so shield your eyes

I'm all steamed up and I'm ready to blow
The pressure mounts need a red overload
To get release
I gotta explode, explode

I'm a bomb, can you hear me tick?
Beware if you turn me on, there is no safety switch
I'm a bomb, use only steady hands
To mess with me, you must be a brave man
I'm a bomb yeah bomb, bomb, bomb, bom, bom
I'm a bomb yeah bomb, bomb, bomb, bom, bom

Bass so loud, I can't hear you
Can't diffuse me now I'm wired
Do not disturb while I'm dancing
Watch me set this house on fire

I'm a bomb, can you hear me tick?
Beware if you turn me on, there is no safety switch
I'm a bomb, use only steady hands
To mess with me, you must be a brave man

I'm a bomb, can you hear me tick?
Beware if you turn me on, there is no safety switch
I'm a bomb, use only steady hands
To mess with me you must be a brave man

Club crescendo getting loud
Run for cover underground
What you doing showing me no fear
You must be crazy hanging 'round here

I'm all steamed up and I'm ready to blow
The pressure mounts need a red overload
Need to get release
I'm gonna explode, explode

I'm a bomb, can you hear me tick?
Beware if you turn me on, there is no safety switch
I'm a bomb, use only steady hands
To mess with me you must be a brave man

I'm a bomb, yeah, yeah, yeah, can you hear me tick?
Beware if you turn me on, there is no safety switch
I'm a bomb yeah, use only steady hands yeah
To mess with me you must be a brave man

I'm a bomb
I'm a bomb
I'm a bomb
I'm a bomb
You must be a brave man

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3dd6c42635fd0984f05fbeba7ab73ba7

Bring Back The Bomb - Lyrics - Gwar

Title: Bring Back The Bomb
Artist: Gwar
Composer(s): David Brockie, Bradley Dunbar Roberts

Lyric:
Hiroshima, a shadow burned in time
Nagasaki, naked baby melts alive
Burnt flesh and rubble from sea to dead shore
Such a hideous theater of war

But that was the end, why?
There are so many more that must die
Is that not part of the plan?
I must use the nukes
I can't kill you all with my hands

Hydrogen bomb, new signs of doom
Thermo-nuclear, neutron bomb too
You say these devices must never be used
I say you're mistaken, let's get to the fuse

Bring, bring back the bomb
This is State Policy, by other means
Your life ends in terror, this is now decreed
This is the twisting of bloody steel beams
The bomb blows air backwards, there's no time to scream

When they tested the A-bomb, they had a real fear
The blast will destroy your sweet atmosphere
But far more important as power increases
Was wasting the planet in well-ordered pieces

Bring, bring back the bomb
Bring, bring, bring, bring back the bomb

Bring back the bomb, it's been far too long
Summon the brazen war chariot
Bring back the bomb, what makes it so wrong?
Release the beast, you can't bury it

Hoi, hrup
Hoi, hrup
Hoi, hrup
Hoi, hrup

Hoi, hrup
Hoi, hrup
Hoi, hrup
Hoi, hrup

Why should the fire be shared with so few?
Let bombs explode, 'cause that's what they do
Nuke Mecca, New York, the Vatican too
Give me a bomb, I'll drop it on you

Why stop at only two?
You showed the world just what it can do
What a waste not to destroy
Come play at war, man and bring your best toy

Who gives a fuck about a nuclear war?
Let bombs explode, because that's what they're for
Last minute warning, the sirens they sing
Chaos, the reason, death, what we bring

Humans now look to the sky
You worship missiles, yet they know no side
I guess it was all a lie
So grab ass with both hands, it's your turn to die

Die, it's your turn to die
Die, it's your turn to die
Lies, they killed you with lies
Die, human, die

And while we're at it, let's go nuke Tibet
Let's vaporize the oceans with glee
Saving the whales an agenda for some
Nuking them sits well with me

Bring back the bomb
They know not what they do
Bring, bring, bring back the bomb
Bring, bring, bring, bring back the bomb

Bring back the bomb
They know not what they do
Bring, bring, bring back the bomb
Bring, bring, bring, bring back the bomb

Bring back the bomb, it's been far too long
Summon the brazen war chariot
Bring back the bomb
What makes it so wrong?

Release the beast, you can't bury it
Hoi
What makes it so wrong?

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Who Am I (What'S My Name?) [Remix] - Lyrics - Snoop Dogg

Title: Who Am I (What'S My Name?) [Remix]
Artist: Snoop Dogg
Composer(s): Jerome Brailey, Bernard Worrell, William Earl Collins, George Jr Clinton, Cordozar Broadus, Mose Davis, Garry Marshall Shider, David Lee Spradley

Lyric:
Eeeyiyiyiyi yah, the Dogg Pound's in the house
(The bomb)
Eeeyiyiyiyi yeah, the Dogg Pound's in the house
Snoop Doggy, Dogg
(The bomb)
Snoop Doggy, Dogg
(Dog)

From the depths of the sea, back to the block
Snoop Doggy Dogg, funky as the, the, The D.O.C.
Went solo on that ass but it's still the same
Long Beach is the spot where I served my cane

Follow me, follow me, follow me
Follow me but don't lose your grip
Nine-trizzay's the yizzear for me to fuck up shit
So I ain't holdin' nuttin' back
And motherfucker I got five on the twenty sack

It's like that and as a matter of fact, rat-tat-tat-tat
'Cuz I never hesitate to put a nigga on his back
Yeah, so peep out the manuscript
You see that it's a must we drop gangsta shit
What's my motherfuckin' name?

Snoop Doggy, Dogg
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Snoop Doggy, Dogg
(The bomb)
Da duh, da, da, dah
Do do do do, doo doo, doo da dah

It's the bow to the wow, creepin' and crawlin'
Yiggy, yes, y'allin, Snoop Doggy Dogg in
The motherfuvkin' house like everyday
Droppin' shit with my nigga Mr. Dr. Dre

Like I said, niggaz can't fuck with this
And niggaz can't fuck with that
Shit that I drop 'cuz ya know it don't stop
Mr. One Eight Seven on a motherfuckin' cop

Tic toc never the glock just some nuts and a cock
Robbin motherfuckers then I kill dem blood claats
Then I step through the fog and I creep through the smog
'Cuz I'm Snoop Doggy, Doggy Doggy, Dogg

Snoop Doggy, Dogg
Snoop Doggy, Dogg
(The bomb)
Bow wow, yippy yo, yippy yay, bow wow, yippy yo
(The bomb)
Bow wow, yippy yo, yippy yay, bow wow, yippy yo

Now just throw your hands in the motherfuckin' air
And wave the motherfuckers like ya just don't care
Yeah, roll up the dank and pour the drank
And watch your step 'cuz Doggy's on the gank

My bank roll's on swoll
My shit's on hit, legit, now I'm on parole, stroll
With the Dogg Pound right behind me
And up in yo bitch, is where ya might find me

Layin' that, playin' that G Thang
She want the nigga with the biggest nuts and guess what?
He is I and I am him, slim with the tilted brim
What's my motherfuckin' name?

Snoop Doggy, Dogg
(The bomb)
Snoop Doggy, Dogg
Snoop Doggy, Dogg
(The bomb)
Snoop Doggy, Dogg
(Dog)

Da duh, da da dah
Do do do do, doo doo doo, da dah
(The bomb)
Da duh, da da dah
Do do do do, doo doo doo, da dah
(Dog, the bomb)

Doggy Dogg, Doggy Dogg, Doggy Dogg
(The bomb)
(The bomb)
What is his name?
Snoop Dogg and the Dogg Pound
(The bomb)

Oh, Snoop Dogg, Snoop Dogg, Snoopy Dogg
(The bomb)
Yeah, yeah, I know his name
Come on Snoopy, come on Snoopy
(The bomb)

And the Dogg Pound
Snoopy Dogg, Snoopy Dogg
(The bomb)
Snoopy Dogg
Dog, nasty dog, Doggy Dogg

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df7200a100ae174706e8ffbaf51f98ce

Throw Your Hands In The Air (Remix) - Lyrics - Cypress Hill

Title: Throw Your Hands In The Air (Remix)
Artist: Cypress Hill
Composer(s): Louis Freese, Erik Sermon, Larry Muggerud, Reggie Noble, A Tyler

Lyric:
Yeah, bust how we gonna bounce off this ninety-five
Soul assassins, Cypress Hill joint
Yo, we want everybody out there to throw their hands up
So get it on kid

Fresh is the word, when I display my rappin' forte
Quicker done than O.J., hey
I freaks my shit, E the lyrical master
Stress me out, no doubt, I might have to blast ya

Let me ask ya, can I gets busy one time?
And unwind and chill, with Cypress Hill
Huh, I go on with my bad self
I?m the four pound toter, the Phil blunt smoker

Believe me not, I?m wicked like three sixes
I?m doper than the Pete Rock remixes
Never walk through the crowd sluggish
I?m hardcore to the bone, I?m thuggish ruggish

The Green-Eyed Bandit, I be Erick Sermon
I gets real determined
And one for the trouble and two for the bass
I take it to your face with this here lyrical mace

And if you don?t know, y?all better recognize
I?m coming through with speed, with pounds of weed

Ah shit, another one of those gangsta hits
Niggaz wanna get busy with the ultimate
Fools get real, yo I?m representin' the Hill
With chips and clips and tons of blue steel

So who wants to be the first nigga to die?
Then try and test this, Buddha blessed Gemini
You get thrown sent home in a coffin'
Punk stuff don?t make it back, very often

I got Erick to take care of the Sermon
Ashes to ashes, dust, bodies burnin'
Bustin' open the doors to the temple
Takin' you to the dark side of your mental

Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners
In the alleys, throw your hands in the air
Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners
In the alleys, throw your hands in the air

Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners
In the alleys, throw your hands in the air
Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners
In the alleys, throw your hands in the air

I rhyme tricky, the sticky smoka with the mind itchy
Finger up on the pen, be like he the bomb, dicky
These off-keys MC?s hawk me, they won?t get off me
So I kill 'em softly and use 'em as walkie talkies

Turn up my level, adjust my voice pitch
Hoist this diagnosis, comatosis is what I leave your crew with
Boom bip or some two and two shit
Raw silk 'cuz you do it to my music

Funk Doctor Spock, lock the hypest
Individual, to put criminal in diapers
With my nigga E and Cypress, what I write bitch
You swore, it was a nuclear war, crisis

In your back yard, word to God, Def Squad
With my nigga Keith in the place takin' charge
Word up you?ll get hurt up like the jury callin' murder
You?re deaf 'cuz I freak shit you neva heard of

Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners
In the alleys, throw your hands in the air
Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners
In the alleys, throw your hands in the air

Steppin' to the park in the hill you can?t hang
The original baby gangsta on this Compton thang
Don?t slip, the late night hype is when I dip
Boo-yaa is the sound from a lonely clip

Can?t feel me, if I was crack you?d try to steal me
Heard you, and your little crew, wanna peel me
Keep your hands on your hood, you get got
The Green-eyed Bandit, Cypress Hill, and the Funk Doctor Spock

You wish you could hang, like I hang
Dwells in the CPT, the hood thing
G, the trigga finger, I?ma get you
Hit you, the Tech 9, I?ma split you

Ain?t no poppin', no stoppin'
Tick to the tock, tick tock, I hit your block
Throw your hands in the air, don?t bite this
I squeeze, nigga please, the E down with Cypress

Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners
In the alleys, throw your hands in the air
Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners
In the alleys, throw your hands in the air

Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners
In the alleys, throw your hands in the air
Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners
In the alleys, throw your hands in the air

Aight, for everybody, all our peeps out on the corners
All the alleyways, for all our deceased
Incarcerated peeps, brothers on the streets
Nineteen ninety-five, soul assassins in your mind

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Throw Your Hands In The Air - Lyrics - Unreleased & Revamped - Cypress Hill

Title: Throw Your Hands In The Air
Album: Unreleased & Revamped
Artist: Cypress Hill
Composer(s): Louis Freese, Erik Sermon, Larry Muggerud, Reggie Noble, A Tyler

Lyric:
Yeah, bust how we gonna bounce off this ninety-five
Soul assassins, Cypress Hill joint
Yo, we want everybody out there to throw their hands up
So get it on kid

Fresh is the word, when I display my rappin' forte
Quicker done than O.J., hey
I freaks my shit, E the lyrical master
Stress me out, no doubt, I might have to blast ya

Let me ask ya, can I gets busy one time?
And unwind and chill, with Cypress Hill
Huh, I go on with my bad self
I?m the four pound toter, the Phil blunt smoker

Believe me not, I?m wicked like three sixes
I?m doper than the Pete Rock remixes
Never walk through the crowd sluggish
I?m hardcore to the bone, I?m thuggish ruggish

The Green-Eyed Bandit, I be Erick Sermon
I gets real determined
And one for the trouble and two for the bass
I take it to your face with this here lyrical mace

And if you don?t know, y?all better recognize
I?m coming through with speed, with pounds of weed

Ah shit, another one of those gangsta hits
Niggaz wanna get busy with the ultimate
Fools get real, yo I?m representin' the Hill
With chips and clips and tons of blue steel

So who wants to be the first nigga to die?
Then try and test this, Buddha blessed Gemini
You get thrown sent home in a coffin'
Punk stuff don?t make it back, very often

I got Erick to take care of the Sermon
Ashes to ashes, dust, bodies burnin'
Bustin' open the doors to the temple
Takin' you to the dark side of your mental

Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners
In the alleys, throw your hands in the air
Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners
In the alleys, throw your hands in the air

Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners
In the alleys, throw your hands in the air
Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners
In the alleys, throw your hands in the air

I rhyme tricky, the sticky smoka with the mind itchy
Finger up on the pen, be like he the bomb, dicky
These off-keys MC?s hawk me, they won?t get off me
So I kill 'em softly and use 'em as walkie talkies

Turn up my level, adjust my voice pitch
Hoist this diagnosis, comatosis is what I leave your crew with
Boom bip or some two and two shit
Raw silk 'cuz you do it to my music

Funk Doctor Spock, lock the hypest
Individual, to put criminal in diapers
With my nigga E and Cypress, what I write bitch
You swore, it was a nuclear war, crisis

In your back yard, word to God, Def Squad
With my nigga Keith in the place takin' charge
Word up you?ll get hurt up like the jury callin' murder
You?re deaf 'cuz I freak shit you neva heard of

Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners
In the alleys, throw your hands in the air
Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners
In the alleys, throw your hands in the air

Steppin' to the park in the hill you can?t hang
The original baby gangsta on this Compton thang
Don?t slip, the late night hype is when I dip
Boo-yaa is the sound from a lonely clip

Can?t feel me, if I was crack you?d try to steal me
Heard you, and your little crew, wanna peel me
Keep your hands on your hood, you get got
The Green-eyed Bandit, Cypress Hill, and the Funk Doctor Spock

You wish you could hang, like I hang
Dwells in the CPT, the hood thing
G, the trigga finger, I?ma get you
Hit you, the Tech 9, I?ma split you

Ain?t no poppin', no stoppin'
Tick to the tock, tick tock, I hit your block
Throw your hands in the air, don?t bite this
I squeeze, nigga please, the E down with Cypress

Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners
In the alleys, throw your hands in the air
Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners
In the alleys, throw your hands in the air

Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners
In the alleys, throw your hands in the air
Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners
In the alleys, throw your hands in the air

Aight, for everybody, all our peeps out on the corners
All the alleyways, for all our deceased
Incarcerated peeps, brothers on the streets
Nineteen ninety-five, soul assassins in your mind

Play the MP3 online for free!

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Time Bomb - Lyrics - Seven Second Surgery - Faber Drive

Title: Time Bomb
Album: Seven Second Surgery
Artist: Faber Drive
Composer(s): Raymond Bull, David William Faber, David Joshua Hinsley, Brian Howes, Jeremy Liddle

Lyric:
Tick, tick
Tick, tickin' away
She said to me
She'd rather be

Outside the ozone
Hands on her face
She starts to shake
Her house is no home

Uh oh, oh no it's bombs away
Gotta get away
She just can't take it
Time bomb

Tick, tick
She's gonna flick the switch
If it stays crazy
Time bomb
Tick, tickin' away

Their microscope
Looks way to close for imperfections
But under the gun
She's had enough
She can't impress them

Uh oh, oh no it's bombs away
Gotta get away
She just can't take it
Time bomb

Tick, tick
She's gonna flick the switch
If it stays crazy
Time bomb
Tick, tickin' away

She's gotta get away
She just can't take it

Time bomb
Tick, tick
She's gonna flick the switch it
If it stays crazy
Time bomb
Tick, tickin away

Blows me away
Blows me away
(Tick tickin' away)

Blows me away
Blows me away
(Tick tickin' away)

Blows me away
Blows me away

She said to me
She'd rather be inside the ocean
Inside a sea of fantasy
To live in slow motion
Gotta get away
She just can't take it

Time bomb
Tick, tick
She's gonna flick the switch it
If it stays crazy

Time bomb
Tick, tickin away
Gotta get away
She just can't take it

Time bomb
Tick, tick
She's gonna flick the switch it
If it stays crazy
Time bomb
Tick, tickin away

Blows me away
Blows me away
Tick tickin' away

Blows me away
Blows me away
Tick tickin' away
Tick tickin' away

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b3e140dbe19f21ff18e53e9c321585e4

Intro/Bomb First (My Second Reply) - Lyrics - Makaveli - The Don Killuminati: The 7 Day Theory - 2pac

Title: Intro/Bomb First (My Second Reply)
Album: Makaveli - The Don Killuminati: The 7 Day Theory
Artist: 2pac
Composer(s): Mutah W. Beale, Rufus Lee Cooper, Darryl V. Harper, Tupac Amaru Shakur

Lyric:
In today's music news, the ever controversial Tupac Shakur has
Just released another album under the alias Makaveli
Music insiders are running wild trying to rearrange other artist
Street dates, in fear of a wipe out in retail inter chart movement

Although no one knows the exact cause of the new album
Resources tell me a number of less fortunate rappers
Have joined together in conspiracy to assassinate the character
Of not only Mr. Shakur but of Death Row records as well

Nas, the alleged ring leader of it, is furious at Tupac
Excuse me Makaveli's verbal assault
On Mobb Sleep, Notorious B.I.G. and several other New York rappers
Jay-Z of Hawaiian Soapy fame, Big Little whatever

And several other corny sounding motherfuckers
are understandably shaken up by this release
The question everybody wants to know is
Why'd they get this nigga started?
Tupac, rather Makaveli was not available for comment
But released this statement

It's not about East or West
It's about niggaz and bitches
Power and money, riders and punks
Which side are you on?

Gun cocked, six shots, bullets hit ground

These niggaz is still fuckin' talkin'?
You nigga still breathin'?
Fuckin' roaches, aight
Aight, it's the Raid on you

All day
You punk muthafuckas
The shit nigga
Killuminati Style
Makaveli the Don
Solo shit

Bring It

Allow me to introduce first
Makaveli the Don
Spirits, Spurting, Spiritual, Lyrics
Like the Holy Koran

Niggas get Shook Like 5-0
My 4-5 gun is next to me when we ride
Plus Survival
Money Making plans

Pistol closing hands
Swollen Pockets
Let me introduce the topic
Then we drop it

Expose Snakes 'cuz they breath freely
See me ride
Located world wide
Like the art of graffiti

I think I'm tougher than any
My attitude is shitty
Born in the dope fiends titty
And every city you'll find me

Looking for trouble
Right behind me
My outlaw niggas
Down to die for me

Naw what I mean

I hit the scene
Niggas ducking for my Guillotine Stare
I'm right there
My every word

A fucking night mare
Getting high
Let me see the sun rise and fall
This is for my dogs

Down to die for yours
Extreme Venom
No mercy
When we all up in 'em

Cut 'em Down
To hell is where we send them
My whole team
Trying to explode

Rather die
Murder muthafuckas lyrically
And I'm not gonna cry
Me

A born leader
Never leave the block
without my heater
Two big pitts
I call them Mobb bitch

Nigga eaters
And I won't whimper till I'm gone
Thug Life
Running through my veins
So I'm strong

Ha ha ha

Bye, bye, bye
Lets get high and ride
Oh, how do we do these niggas
But I'm not gonna cry
I'm a Bad Boy killa

Jay-Z die too
Looking out for Mobb Deep
Nigga when I find you
Weak muthafuckas don't deserve to breathe
How many niggas down to die for me

Yeah, yeah

West Coast Ridaz
Comin' right behind ya
Should've never fucked wit me
I want money hoes sex and weed
I wont rest till my Row Doggs free
Bomb First

We Bomb first when we ride
Please, reconsider 'fo you die
We didn't even come to hurt nobody tonight, tonight
(Hurt nobody)
But it's my life or your life
And I'm a bomb first

We Bomb first when we ride
Please, reconsider 'fo you die
We didn't even come to hurt nobody tonight, tonight
(Hurt nobody)
But it's my life or your life
And I'm a bomb first

For so many days and some many ways
We've been duckin' strays
Hate to live us
But we still some Bad Boy Killas

Got nothin' to lose, got no where to go
I only got one home see me stranded on Death Row
With Outlawz, it's Makaveli, be the general
and I be a soldier on a mission, suptitude

But you'll never do
That's ride for the cause
Yes I'll die for the cause
Ya best believe if I leave this bitch, I'm dyin' with choice

Kamikaze sicker than a mothafuckin' Nazi
Got a little question for that nigga that made Poparazi
Tell me if you ain't in this rap game
For the mothafuckin'' cash man

Then what is ya mothafuckin'' purpose
None for service
Idi Amin born worthless
That's until the day I decided to bomb first bitch

Young Noble

Yer style wack as ever
Like you was rocket patent leather
Cause a massive terror
Ya'll niggas lack, you ain't terrel

Half rapper half drug kingpen
Yer tellin' fairy tales son
Kickin' New York like you the mothafuckin'' one
But I'm from Jers we don't play that shit

From the Claire down to North Bricks
All my niggas flippin' chips
Gettin' rich
Even though it's hard

Tryin' to creep through these halls abroad without scar by [unverified]
With no warning signs cause yo my man took five
Now I'm the young one with the nine
ready to put in my time

Shoot first, look at there head burst bleedin'
Don't want to hear no shit this evening, believe me

We Bomb first when we ride
Please, reconsider 'fo you die
We didn't even come to hurt nobody tonight, tonight
(Hurt nobody)
But it's my life or your life
And I'm a bomb first

We Bomb first when we ride
Please, reconsider 'fo you die
We didn't even come to hurt nobody tonight, tonight
(Hurt nobody)
But it's my life or your life
And I'm a bomb first

We Bomb first when we ride
Please, reconsider 'fo you die
G's and Thug niggas on tha rise
Plan-plot-strategize
And bomb first

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61cdc50a4d2fdfa24b763333ae8bc3aa

To My People - Lyrics - Flipmode Squad

Title: To My People
Artist: Flipmode Squad
Composer(s): R Lewis, R Mcnair, R Fisher, Leroy Jones, G Spivey, Trevor Smith, R Evens, J Webb

Lyric:
Ya don't stop to my people in the front
Ya don't stop to my people in the rear
Say what, throw your hands in the air
Ya don't stop to my people on the left

Ya don't stop to my people on the right
Ya don't stop to my people everywhere
Say what, throw your hands in the air
Ya don't stop to my people in New York

Ya don't stop to my people down south
Ya don't stop to my people out west
Say what, throw your hands in the air
To my hip hop niggas, ya don't stop

To my niggas in the street, ya don't stop
To my niggas gettin' money, say what
Throw your hands in the air
Ya don't stop

Uh, straight off the bat
My squad is known across the map
When y'all niggas show love
Then we show you love back

Y'all niggas want beef
Fuck it take it to the streets
Y'all niggas gon' chill
Then we sit down and we build

My squad finally here
Unit of the year
We settin' up shop
And we ain't going nowhere

We want it all
Even if we gotta brawl for it
We want it all
Even if you gotta fall for it

We stage wreckers, fifty two car deckers
Reppin' to the world till the law come and get us
You jealous fellas
I'm puttin' holes in vendettas

Twist your body
With two shells from a shottie pow
Niggas wanna get me touched
(Naw, they cant touch you)
Shinin' and flossin' too much
(Naw, they can't cross you)

Light on my toes
Left him ten feet
Part from his heat
Play it softly

The truth speaks through this poetry
For me to call shot
Cock block my life
Add a little spice

Devil eyes snake rise on dice
Have your fam call Christ
Flipmode battle for mics
All my shit be high priced

I'm slashing dikes, feel me
Liftin' thugs out they crease it's quickly
Shift two keys in two weeks
And gross forty g's

Report me and live shortly
Slouch cat livin' off calibil breeze
You wanna get involved
Better grip on tight, take the next flight
We got it locked on the next bike

Check it out
I got the eye of a tiger
That's plan to go higher
My squad is on fire

And till death do us
If the label wanna sue us
Yo I'm taking the reels
I'm the man with the gat that be ready to peel

I'm the one next to Spliff when it's time to ill
I'm a show by astro red cross and blue shields
Watch us make a move
Catch us on smokin' groove

Rules house of blues, MTV news
On the bus with my Flipmode loco
(Loco)
Takin' flicks, hittin' chicks by the dozen
(Dozen)

Keep a shot runnin'
Now I'm on a journey
It take you twenty light years to burn me
(Burn me)
If you want beef call my attorney
All that other wack shit don't concern me

I'm being felt
I got a title under my belt
I'm out to get the wealth
I'm 'bout my squad and myself

Ya don't stop to my people in the front
Ya don't stop to my people in the rear
Say what, throw your hands in the air
Ya don't stop to my people on the left

Ya don't stop to my people on the right
Ya don't stop to my people everywhere
Say what, throw your hands in the air
Ya don't stop to my people in New York

Ya don't stop to my people down south
Ya don't stop to my people out west
Say what, throw your hands in the air
To my hip hop niggas, ya don't stop

To my niggas in the street, ya don't stop
To my niggas gettin' money, say what
Throw your hands in the air
Ya don't stop

Uhh, comin' correct for all my Flipmode brothers
Stats ratin' higher then that of single mothers
Peace to my Outz clique
Bitches that I bounce with

Everybody else get the gas like Auschwitz
Like, flows for real like a rap bitch should
Type takin' niggas out like they packaged goods
Rappers wanna contest

They buggin', straight up and down
We run the underground like H. Tubman
What, I'm the bomb bitch
Nigga Rah, D I G got Rah

God be my witness
Long as I walk this globe
I be spittin' more verses
Than the 'Book of Job'

Why are you ignoring us
Running into hiding and avoiding us?
Niggas on the low be recording us
My rhyme flow remain poisonous

Thus
Yo your shit sound wack still annoying us
We alive nigga ain't no destroying us
You better off if you come join with us

Perpendicular
Or analyzing my whole molecular
In particular
Roll with my squad or go singular

I ain't into bitches who fuck animals like caligula
More hot shit so get your water sprinkler
Fire extinguisher, rhyme, prime minister
C'mon

Never mistake me for nobody else
Another blast make you shit on yourself
I hope all y'all know that I always master the art
Rip you apart

Put your hand on my heart
Flipmode number one on the charts
Solo or collective
My perspective the objective
Is to win

All praises due to my squad one in the same
Cherish every blessing
I have to make y'all witness my name
Burn another calorie

Come inside my galaxy
Put your money where your mouth is double your salary
Hey dude you know we stay rude high on a aquelude
Bust your shit bouncin' in a Honda Prelude

Let's G off
Nigga ease off
I make you breeze off
Brickfull make you rip your jeans off

Ya don't stop to my people in the front
Ya don't stop to my people in the rear
Say what, throw your hands in the air
Ya don't stop to my people on the left

Ya don't stop to my people on the right
Ya don't stop to my people everywhere
Say what, throw your hands in the air
Ya don't stop to my people in New York

Ya don't stop to my people down south
Ya don't stop to my people out west
Say what, throw your hands in the air
To my hip hop niggas, ya don't stop

To my niggas in the street, ya don't stop
To my niggas gettin' money, say what
Throw your hands in the air
Ya don't stop

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997308a83afd0c54f283a4ddec5a5fee

Cherry Bomb - Lyrics - John Mellencamp

Title: Cherry Bomb
Artist: John Mellencamp
Composer(s): John Mellencamp

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

Lyric:
Well I lived on the outskirts of town
In an eight room farmhouse, baby
When my brothers and friends were around
There was always somethin' doin'

Had me a couple of real nice girlfriends
Stopped by to see me every once in a while
When I think back about those days
All I can do is sit and smile

That's when a sport was a sport
And groovin' was groovin'
And dancin' meant everything
We were young and we were improvin'

Laughin', laughin' with our friends
Holdin' hands meant somethin', baby
Outside the club, 'Cherry Bomb'
Our hearts were really thumpin'

Say, "Yeah yeah yeah"
Say, "Yeah yeah yeah"

The winter days, they last forever
But the weekends went by so quick
Went ridin' around this little country town
We were goin' nuts, girl, out in the sticks

One night, me with my big mouth
A couple guys had to put me in my place
When I see those guys these days
We just laugh and say, "Do you remember when

That's when a sport was a sport
And groovin' was groovin'
And dancin' meant everything?"
We were young and we were improvin'

Laughin', laughin' with our friends
Holdin' hands meant somethin', baby
Outside the club, 'Cherry Bomb'
Our hearts were really thumpin'

Say, "Yeah yeah yeah"
Say, "Yeah yeah yeah"
Alright

Say, "Yeah yeah yeah"
Say, "Yeah yeah yeah"

Seventeen has turned thirty-five
I'm surprised that we're still livin'
If we've done any wrong
I hope that we're forgiven

Got a few kids of my own
And some days I still don't know what to do
I hope that they're not laughing too loud
When they hear me talkin' like this to you

That's when a sport was a sport
And groovin' was groovin'
And dancin' meant everything?"
We were young and we were improvin'

Laughin', laughin' with our friends
Holdin' hands meant so much, baby
Outside the club, 'Cherry Bomb'
Our hearts were really thumpin'

Say, "Yeah yeah yeah"
Say, "Yeah yeah yeah"

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e74c649e8422960ec4fc40fc0b689436

Hands Held High - Lyrics - Minutes To Midnight - Linkin Park

Title: Hands Held High
Album: Minutes To Midnight
Artist: Linkin Park
Composer(s): Chester Bennington, Dave Farrell, Mike Shinoda, Brad Delson, Joseph Hahn, Robert Bourdon

Lyric:
Turn my mic up louder, I got to say somethin'
Lightweight step it aside when we comin'
Feel it in your chest, the syllables get pumpin?
People on the street, they panic and start runnin?

Words on loose leaf sheet complete comin?
I jump on my mind, I summon the rhyme I'm dumpin?
Healin' the blind, I promise to let the sun in
Sick of the dark ways, we march to the drummin?

Jump when they tell us they want to see jumpin?
F*** that! I want to see some fists pumpin?
Risk somethin', take back what's yours
Say somethin' that you know they might attack you for

?Cause I'm sick of bein' treated like I have before
Like I'm stupid standin? for what I'm standin? for
Like this war's really just a different brand of war
Like it doesn't cater to rich and abandon poor

Like they understand you in the back of the jet
When you can't put gas in your tank
These ******* are laughin? their way to the bank and cashin' the check
Askin' you to have compassion and have some respect

For a leader so nervous in an obvious way
Stutterin? and mumblin? for nightly news to replay
And the rest of the world watchin? at the end of the day
In their livin? room laughin? like, "What did he say?"

Amen, amen
Amen, amen
Amen

In my livin? room watchin? but I am not laughin?
'Cause when it gets tense, I know what might happen
The world is cold, the bold men take action
Have to react to get blown into fractions

10 years old is somethin' to see
Another kid my age drugged under a jeep
Taken and bound and found later under a tree
I wonder if he had thought, "The next one could be me"

Do you see the soldiers that are out today
That brush the dust from bulletproof vests away?
It's ironic, at times like this you pray
But a bomb blew the mosque up yesterday

There's bombs in the buses, bikes, roads
Inside your market, your shops, your clothes
My dad, he's got a lot of fear I know
But enough pride inside not to let that show

My brother had a book he would hold with pride
A little red cover with a broken spine
On the back he hand wrote a quote inside
"When the rich wage war, it's the poor who die"

Meanwhile, the leader just talks away
Stutterin and mumblin? for nightly news to replay
And the rest of the world watchin? at the end of the day
Both scared and angry like, "What did he say?"

Amen, amen
Amen, amen

(Amen)
With hands held high into a sky so blue
(Amen)
As the ocean opens up to swallow you
(Amen)
With hands held high into a sky so blue
(Amen)
As the ocean opens up to swallow you

(Amen)
With hands held high into a sky so blue
(Amen)
As the ocean opens up to swallow you
(Amen)
With hands held high into a sky so blue
(Amen)
As the ocean opens up to swallow you

(Amen)
With hands held high into a sky so blue
(Amen)
As the ocean opens up to swallow you
(Amen)
With hands held high into a sky so blue
(Amen)
As the ocean opens up to swallow you

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8ee2911cbc047e295b5820404b9283be

Not Too Young, Not Too Old - Lyrics - Oh Aaron - Aaron Carter

Title: Not Too Young, Not Too Old
Album: Oh Aaron
Artist: Aaron Carter
Composer(s): V Raeburn, M Power, A Lindsey, L Palmer, L Secon, S Williams

Lyric:
I'm not too young and I'm not too old

Listen up everybody, this ain't Aaron's party part two
I'm older now, come and show me body
Girl, whatcha gonna do
Come and talk to me in the back seat
Baby backstreet
(Yeah, yeah)

We could surf the board, surf the net
(Yeah)
Better yet, we could make a little bet
If we get together, yo, it's gonna be "Tha bomb"
Hit me on, baby, Aaron-Carter.com

See, when it comes to girls, I'm not too young
(Know what I mean)
Baby face back up on the scene
But when I get in trouble, hey I'm not to old
I pull my cap way down say I'm thirteen years old
That's how we roll

Throw your hands up now, let the music take control
This is how we roll
I'm not too young, and I'm not too old
Here we go
Throw your hands up now, let the music take control
This is how we roll
I'm not too young, I'm not too old

It's the A to the A, to the R-O-N
I'm all grown up now run and tell your friend
It's all sewn up, now, where do I begin
Don't even player hate, tryin' to say I look ten

I'ma tell you again
I'm all up in the video, catch me in the studio that's my life bro
It's in my blood, hey, it ain't my fault
You wanna step to me, we can take it to the asphalt

Shoot some hoops, kid slam dunk the funk
Battle on the roller blades, you're you callin' me a punk?
Bring on the skateboards, or the BMX
Show me what you've got is that all? Please next

I'll wipe the floor with you, where's the concentration?
Don't even talk about the Sony play station
I'll make it happen if its games that you want
Aaron Carter got you open
Don't front, don't front, just roll

Throw your hands up now, let the music take control
This is how we roll
I'm not too young, and I'm not too old
Here we go
Throw your hands up now, let the music take control
This is how we roll
I'm not too young, I'm not too old

He's steppin' out with the older boys
Cover up your ears 'cause we making mad noise
He's steppin' out with the younger girls
Cover up your eyes 'cause we rock the world
He's steppin' out with the older boys
Cover up your ears 'cause we're making mad noise
He's steppin' out with the younger girls
Cover up your eyes 'cause we rock the world

See, when it comes to takin' all the girls for a cruise
(In my ride)
All I need is pillows
Hello I'm? not too young
(Hello)
(Dururudu)
My cellular rung
(Dururudu)

Switch it off, yo, hit me in the pager
A real teen-ager
(You got a pager?)
With the fake beard battin' in the majors
That's how we roll
And when it suits me
I'm anywhere between 12 and 18 years old
Here we go

Throw your hands up now, let the music take control
This is how we roll
I'm not too young, and I'm not too old
Here we go
Throw your hands up now, let the music take control
This is how we roll
I'm not too young, and I'm not too old
('Cause we rock the world)

Here we go
Throw your hands up now, let the music take control
This is how we roll
I'm not too young, and I'm not too old
('Cause we rock the world)
Here we go
Throw your hands up now, let the music take control
This is how we roll
I'm not too young, I'm not too old

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a3ceaec7efdee4c9117ef790e6bf38ce

Rock With Me - Lyrics - Instructions - Jermaine Dupri

Title: Rock With Me
Album: Instructions
Artist: Jermaine Dupri
Composer(s): Dennis Lussier, Freddie Perren, Jermaine Dupri, Berry Gordy, Alphonso Mizell

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

Lyric:
Uh, huh, uh East coast
(Yeah)
Uh, uh, uh, huh, uh West coast
(Uh, huh, uh)

Down in the dirty
(Where?)
Dirty dirty
(Aha ha)
C'mon

(Rock with me)
Put ya hands up in the air so
(I can see)
That you feel it and never could get a
(Another JD)
How I put it down it makes you wanna
(Rock with me all night long)

(Rock with me)
Put ya hands up in the air so
(I can see)
That you feel it and never could get a
(Another JD)
How I rep the A town it makes ya
(Rock with me all night long)

Well, it started off on the avenue
When I came up with the name called the So Def crew
It was me, my big homie Eddie
Up late making tapes, putting them out on the streets

I used to rap scratch even try to sing
Now I'm the little cat pumping out the steam
I used to play with it, now I stay with it, lay with it
And huh keep pumping out hits

'Cause can't nobody do it like we does
This side, that side I gets nothing but love
And I keep it pumping up in the club
Big with all the pimps, the hustlas, ladies and thugs

That respect that knock, when they hear that knock
Y'all niggas think, I'm gon' stop
(Please)
Y'all won't see me on behind the scenes
But you can catch me at a money machine, Ching Ching

(Rock with me)
Put ya hands up in the air so
(I can see)
That you feel it and never could get a
(Another JD)
How I put it down it makes you wanna
(Rock with me all night long)

(Rock with me)
Put ya hands up in the air so
(I can see)
That you feel it and never could get a
(Another JD)
How I rep the A town it makes ya
(Rock with me all night long)

Kris Kross was the beginning of the linen and cars
Houses, hidden clubs, shutting down the bars
I was only 19 doing big big things
In the CP living the American dream

Then I signed X scape, first album 1.8
(Million)
New company, my shit looked great
But uh, me being the player that, I am, I couldn't stop
I just had to find me something else to take to the top

Something fly that'll catch your eye
Thats when I bumped into my little sister from the West side of Chi
Demo after demo we made
Got so funkdafied now we paid

Rap or R&B we ain't playing
We demand y'all respect this Afroman
As the game gets bigger, and my dough gets longer
And me and my crew get stronger
The more you wanna

(Rock with me)
Put ya hands up in the air so
(I can see)
That you feel it and never could get a
(Another JD)
How I put it down it makes you wanna
(Rock with me all night long)

(Rock with me)
Put ya hands up in the air so
(I can see)
That you feel it and never could get a
(Another JD)
How I rep the A town it makes ya
(Rock with me all night long)

In every flight there's turbulence and I had some
But I remained focused and kept dropping the bomb
'What should I do next? That was going through my head
Then Candy introduced me to a Jagged Edge

Three homies from the Dec, one from right around the corner
We went in, came out, now everybody on 'em
Three albums later, everybody on 'em
Ain't a city you can go where the girls don't want 'em

Once again, I was thinking 'whats next for me?'
Then I got a big call from my homie Steve
He said hey, let throw something your way
It was none other than my brother they comparing to MJ

Girls can't stop screaming, three mill now
Everybody love him and his name is Bow Wow
As the game gets bigger, and my dough gets longer
And me and my crew get stronger
The more you wanna

(Rock with me)
Put ya hands up in the air so
(I can see)
That you feel it and never could get a
(Another JD)
How I put it down it makes you wanna
(Rock with me all night long)

(Rock with me)
Put ya hands up in the air so
(I can see)
That you feel it and never could get a
(Another JD)
How I rep the A town it makes ya
(Rock with me all night long)

See, I've been doing, what I'm doing for like 10 years man
Putting out fire man
You might remember sometimes Leather, Monica
(Aha, ha)

Mary J. Blige, Mariah Carey, Janet Jackson, TLC, Usher, MC Lyte
Man you name it man, I got the hits playboy
Dru Hill, Da Brat, Xscape, Jagged Edge
(Ha, ha)
Kris Kross, Destiny's Child, and my little homeboy Bow Wow
Listen man, I never gonna stop

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e60c1fc30f546bb0c67bf47e16de98f8

Fresh - Lyrics - Kuruption! - Kurupt

Title: Fresh
Album: Kuruption!
Artist: Kurupt
Composer(s): Delmar Arnaud, Ricardo Brown

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

Lyric:
G'd up, we're back, that's what I keep hearin'
We ain't never went nowhere, fool
Better ask your folks about the D-O double G's

How long could the war last on a warpath?
I'm still heat, nigga, still signin' autographs
Still hittin' the stash an' pullin' pistols out the dash
The poetical poltergeist, verbal Jerry Weiss

Fuck the ice, give me a mic an' let's see who's the nicest
I fuck around an' calls it crisis
With preciseness an' precisely this
See we make the shit that precisely hits

So how soon could you pump up the volume?
Hand tune your amps an' pump up my album
Get yours, I call the fuckin' holocaust
I'm out to get mine, get yours, snatchin' anything yours

Cock back your name, blastin' anything
Yo, The Dogg Pound gang, where all the G's hang
It's impossible not for that ass to end up in a hospital
G.R., Gang Related an'

We are fresh, we are fresh, we are fresh, we are fresh
We are fresh, we are fresh, we are fresh
We are fresh, we are fresh, we are fresh, we are fresh
We are fresh, we are fresh, we are fresh, we are fresh

I spit poison, poisonous darts
I aim, bomb the charts
One rhyme I'll hold your pose an' stop your heart
Stop to talk, start to walk an' never walk again

Legs broken, chest platebone, blow in, broken
Crushed, touched, bust open
Get hit like the four winds
Up against four assassins, the Four Horsemen of rappin'

I gotta pinch myself to make sure I ain't dreamin'
'Cause I just saw the homie bring an M-16 in
I fade in to see how baby sparks
No ifs, ands or maybe's, baby barks

Turn on the daylight, pitch black thoughts
I pitch back sparks when the get back starts
This is it, we're 'bout to show you how to do shit
D.P.G completely, runnin' through shit

Fresh, we are fresh, we are fresh, we are fresh
We are fresh, we are fresh, we are fresh
We are fresh, we are fresh, we are fresh, we are fresh
We are fresh, we are fresh, we are fresh, we are fresh

Break it down
Party people, clap your hands, keep rockin'
Sho' shockin' an' rockin', DJ C-walkin'
Party people, clap your hands now
Party people, clap your hands

Party people, clap your hands, keep rockin'
Sho' shockin' an' rockin', DJ C-walkin'
Party people, clap your hands now
Party people, clap your hands
It's just a gangsta party

Supa dupa sensual seductive, psycho psychotic
Psychosomatic, psycho's with automatics
The aftermath with the poetical psychopath
An' I might go slow an' I might go fast

An' I might go burst
Then I might go last, thinkin' I might not bust
An' I just might just blast
Or I might just whoop the skin of your ass
If you cross a path

You know I'm the rawest MC with it
Fuck Jiggy, nigga, I'm D.P. with it
I've been the bomb strike, like the motherfuckin' Pentagon
Napalm verses disperses to all the mental gone

Mack 10-a-thon, separate an' lick a mind
Tear them in the zone in his leg, ain't bust his head
Keep busting till he's dead
DAZ with the bombest in the country, choppin' lead on the street

What you got, flame or some heat?
Do you incinerate or make it hot, he got stock o' beat
Powerful, strong or weak?
All I know is I drop shit that cracks the concrete

Fresh, we are fresh, we are fresh, we are fresh
We are fresh, we are fresh, we are fresh
We are fresh, Dogg Pound fresh, DAZ fresh, Snoop Dogg fresh
Kurupt fresh, Nate Dogg fresh, we are fresh, we are

We are fresh, we are fresh, we are fresh, we are fresh
We are fresh, we are fresh, we are fresh
We are fresh, Snoop Dogg fresh, Dogg Pound fresh, DAZ fresh
Kurupt fresh, Nate Dogg fresh, Soopafly fresh, Tray D fresh, Big C Style

Fresh, the homies, fresh, anybody, fresh, we are fresh, O.G.s
Fresh, baby Gs, fresh, DAZ, fresh, he made the beat, fresh
'Cuz we are fresh, Dogg Pound, fresh, D.P., fresh, Death Row
Fresh, yeah, fresh, you know it, fresh, yeah, fresh, you know it, fresh
'Cuz we are fresh, icons, fresh, nigga, fresh

We are icons

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89018da1a8ea29e46d293a99e8001350

Little Time Bomb - Lyrics - Billy Bragg

Title: Little Time Bomb
Artist: Billy Bragg
Composer(s): Billy Bragg

Lyric:
One of them's off her food and the other one's off his head
And both of them are off down the boozer
To drink a toast, to the one, he hates most
And she says there are no winners, only losers

Well, if there are no winners, then what is this he thinks
As he watches her complete a lap of honor
And he sits in the stands, with his head in his hands
And he thinks of all the things, he'd like to bring down upon her

Revenge will bring cold comfort in this darkest hour
As the jukebox says 'It's All Over Now'
And he stands and he screams, what have I done wrong
I've fallen in love with a little time bomb
I've fallen in love with a little time bomb

In public, he's such a man
He's punching at the walls with his bare and bloody hands
He's screaming and shouting and acting crazy
But at home, he sits alone and he cries like a baby

Oh, he holds your letters but he can't read them
As he fights this loneliness that you call freedom
You said this would happen and you were not wrong
I've fallen in love with a little time bomb
I've fallen in love with a little time bomb

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da0984a6ae39badbdd2b583321d24760

I'M Talkin - Lyrics - Supa Dupa Fly - Missy Elliott

Title: I'M Talkin
Album: Supa Dupa Fly
Artist: Missy Elliott
Composer(s): Allen Mcgrier, Timothy Z Mosley, Mary C Brockert, Melissa A Elliott

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

Lyric:
Nigga, waz up?
You think you tough, I'm fly shit
Has a bitch, dope as fuck
Sho nuff I'm guaranteed, no diggities
Fight you like the fucking enemies
You would think there's fucking ten of me
When I'm sending these
Blows, blows, hoes want to roll like hydro
When I suck Timbaland's bone like you

Fido, I go
Scoop Lil' Kim
Me, she, her, them and him
Gets high in a tunnel
They see my Lexus comin'
They hear the bass rumblin'
They come quick, they come quick
Like a dick, I make myself sick
I'm so motherfuckin' bad to the bone
Like my titties are full blown

My style of rappin'
I'm such, such, such a good rapper
I give you good and plenty
My styles the bomb diggy
My style of rappin'
I'm such, such, such a good rapper
I give you good and plenty
My styles the bomb diggy

I'm calling your cards like Sprint
Can't be me, can't see me
I'm low like Timb, ladies and gents
Dogs, cats and babies
Whoever but my style
I hope you croak from the rabies
Swayze, maybe I call your name
Ain't that a fucking shame
I'm too high for that
I'm great like the Dane
Mane on main

If you decide to put your hands
On my fucking light
Like the cigarettes I light
You must burn, you better learn
From the pro
Who rock shows after shows
When it rains it pours
I hurt like the cold souls
My style polishes like nails and toes
You know, know

My style of rappin'
I'm such, such, such a good rapper
I give you good and plenty
My styles the bomb diggy
My style of rappin'
I'm such, such, such a good rapper
I give you good and plenty
My style the bomb diggy

You beg to be put on like cats
Nigga know who I am
Now you want to sing and dance
You want to shake your stanky ass
Well I'm sorry Sam
God damn, you ain't family
You hounding me, pounding me
With the same old story
You bore me
Lordy have mercy on all these groupies

Sorry cutie
Why you go and shake your bootie?
'Cause there's only one Lil' Kim
The triple beam, the misdemean
Nigga queen, whoomp, we Tag Team
So hot we melt like ice cream
Without the dick riding
Dreams of smoking a California blunt
I got the lyrics to make you feel it
What you want nigga?

I'm talking about my style
I am the flyest then RZA now
I'm talking about my style
Let me tell you about Missy's style

My style of rappin'
I'm such, such, such a good rapper
I give you good and plenty
My styles the bomb diggy
My style of rappin'
I'm such, such, such a good rapper
I give you good and plenty
My style the bomb diggy

Hey Timbaland be talking more shit
And Lil' Kim be talking more shit
Da Brat be talking more shit
Busta Rhymes be talking more shit
Talking more shit
702 talk shit
And Aaliyah talk shit

Ginuwine be talking more shit
And I be talking more shit
And Total be talking more shit
Maganoo and St. Nick, we be talking shit
We be talking shit
Aight, aight
And Jimmy talking shit too, aight, aight
We out

Play the MP3 online for free!

609be454f1618b9ae1f48227924d0506

No. 5 - Lyrics - Swan Songs - Hollywood Undead

Title: No. 5
Album: Swan Songs
Artist: Hollywood Undead
Composer(s): Da Kurlzz Deuce Funny Man Johnny 3 Tears Charlie Scene

Lyric:
Hollywood, we never going down
Hollywood, we never going down
Hollywood, we never going down

And all the kids in the hood come on wave and shake your hands
Hollywood, we never going down
And when you're drunk shake that ass like you know how to dance
Hollywood, we never going down

Start getting loud, I wanna party now
If you hate on Undead that's a party foul
I only drink Mickey's, I can't afford the cans
I drink so much they call me Charlie 40 Hands

If the keg is tapped, then you're getting capped
Take your girl to the sack and we'll take a nap
Ladies drink them fast so I can have a blast
You got your beer gog's on and I'm getting? ass

Like, oh my God, is that Charlie Scene?
Ladies show me your treats like it's Halloween
You got fake I.D. and you're 17
I'm a complete catastrophe buzzing around you like a bumblebee

So let's take some shots
Do a beer run and flip off a cop
Girls give me props and they're on my jock
Paris Hilton said that's hot, when she saw my cock, that's hot

And all the kids in the hood come on wave and shake your hands
Hollywood, we never going down
And when you're drunk shake that ass like you know how to dance
Hollywood, we never going down

I'm about to serve it up for all you party goers
Scene kids, Meat Heads, Alchi's, Stoners
Dancing around like a bunch of faggots
Funnier than fuck, you can ask Bob Saggot

I never claimed that I knew how to dance
But I'll get drunk, get high and pull down my pants
So fuck five bucks, just fill up my cup
Don't kiss me bitch, you just threw up

Now I'm drunk as fuck about to pass out
Destination your mother's couch
Dude, is it really true you screwed my mom?
Fuck yeah bro, that pussy was bomb

So I'm hopping, jumping, sipping, and skipping
It's nights like these that we all love living
So take out your hands and throw the H.U. up
Now wave it around like you don't give a fuck, check please

And all the kids in the hood come on wave and shake your hands
Hollywood we never going down
And when you're drunk shake that ass like you know how to dance
Hollywood we never going down

Can't stop, won't stop, Charlie make the booty drop
Can't stop, won't stop, Johnny make the booty drop
Can't stop, won't stop, J make the booty drop
Can't stop, won't stop, Peters make the booty drop

Can't stop, won't stop, Kurlzz make the booty drop
Can't stop, won't stop, Funny make the booty drop
Can't stop, won't stop, let me see the panties drop
Producers on the dance floor, let me see your booty pop

Grab your drink, get on the floor
Grab your drink and get on the floor
Let's dance in the hood, shake that ass Hollywood

And all the kids in the hood come on wave and shake your hands
Hollywood, we never going down
And when you're drunk shake that ass like you know how to dance
Hollywood, we never going down

Let's dance in the hood, shake that ass Hollywood
Hollywood, we never going down
Let's dance in the hood, shake that ass Hollywood
Hollywood, we never going down

Play the MP3 online for free!

90542e6c90da1847126b537327aecc0d