Boom Boom In The Zoom Zoom Room - Lyrics - No Exit - Blondie

Title: Boom Boom In The Zoom Zoom Room
Album: No Exit
Artist: Blondie
Composer(s): Denny Freeman, Kathy Valentine, Romy Ashby, Clem Burke, Deborah Harry

Lyric:
Passing the match test? That's some kind of tease
'Cause everything rests on the moment
The little flame sees
Let's go boom boom in the zoom zoom room

If you get past that brief little flash
Take down my number with your pencil mustache
Play truth or dare in the light of a strike anywhere
Don't follow the fallen already lying down there

Let's go boom boom in the zoom zoom room
Boom boom in the zoom zoom room

I'll be the cause you can champion
Your scarlet companion and won't it be fine?
Keeping my head above water
I'm no farmer's daughter, no clinging vine

When we trip the light fantastic, a feeling so rare
It will follow your features aligned by the glare
Let's go boom boom in the zoom zoom room
Let's go boom boom in the zoom zoom room

I'll be the cause you can champion
Your scarlet companion and won't it be fun?
I'll keep my head above water
I'm no farmer's daughter, no clinging vine

Passing the match test and no one says
Thank you 'cause they're gone
Just as fast as a breeze

Boom boom in the zoom zoom room
Let's go boom
Boom boom in the zoom zoom room
Let's go, let's go, boom boom in the zoom zoom room

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Lower Da Boom - Lyrics - Artifact

Title: Lower Da Boom
Artist: Artifact
Composer(s): Rahem Ross Brown, Todd Ray, William E Williams

Lyric:
Hey man, try some of this
It's absolutely dynamic
Oh yea, shit

A lot of cats put down grass man
Like uh, uhh, because they say things about it
Like it makes you, lose your memory and all that
Well I just wanna say that uhh, uhh
I forget where I was man
Ohh, okay cut, Freddy, Freddy stop
Boom Skwad in the house

I lower da boom when I do the cypher dance
With naps and saggy pants as I romance the plants
I take puffs on stuff, rough enough to give a buzz
To my 'cuz even though he don't touch the stuff
See this blunt in my front, some say might stink
But yo the skunk helps me think

I'm a boom smoker joker with the knack because I'm gifted
Some say misfit, but fuck it let's get lifted
I get a box of 50, get nifty with a spliff G
And tick tackle new jacks who tried to diss me

I walk through the rain for dimes at the sess spot
Not hot with cops, 'cause I'd hate to get popped
I'm a terror to a trey bag, son, you'll soon see
But I gots to get higher, lower the boom G

Lower da boom, you got to lower da boom
Where the brothers puff the ism and the smoke clouds the room
Spark that blunt, represent don't front
We got what you want, it's the indo funk

Ahh, I just catch the fumes so I consume
Bend the room, with the duplicate tune
Spark another L for the cypher
Sit back and light the five inch adventure that's alright

Lower the boom for the sess bags thicker
One's a flight to Phillie, while the other one's the liquor
Off to the weed spot, the bag's better be fat
Or else you catch the speed knot and Holmes, you don't need that

Spark the indo or the L, sniff the weed
But I never get splits mista 'cause Tame's been hip ta
The baby of the blunts, so I'm down to catch the contact
Here's the rap chat, it's a fact that I react

Smooth from the boom consumed a zoom, zoom a zoomin'
MC El, the leaner cleaner thoughts dials tune-in
Into the matter roll the blunt, bunt batter
Pass the shit quick, don't flip with the chit chatter

I never puckered once, my lungs got jammed
My man said it wouldn't kill, but I choke, goddamn
The sess starts to cloud the room
The Artifacts, commences ta, lower the boom

Lower da boom, you got to lower da boom
Where the brothers puff the ism and the smoke clouds the room
Spark that blunt, represent don't front
We got what you want, it's the indo funk

Ohh, I hope I live to see the day they make it legal
So all the people can see what I'm smokin' ain't evil
Stop callin' me a pusher 'cause I take pulls and take tokes
Cut snakes, cut breaks and I hate fake folks

So pass the cheeba, senorita 'cause I need a
Fat fuckin' Phillie just before I funk a freaker
Creatin' from the milk crate with hooks and riffs
I can lift 'em and shift 'em makin' jams like this

With the blunt in my left hand and the Phillie in my pocket
MC El, at my right, with the mic so I can rock it
Sess makes my eyes red, but shades only cost three bills
In Hooter ville, so I'm chill

See the bigger the blunt, is how I feel about my indo
Because my moms would never throw my shit out the window
I puff herb 'til noon, chill and watch cartoons
Yes once again, I lowered the boom

Are you weeded? Nope see, I'm doper for the session
Catchin' wreck, check the tec 'cause I'm sober for the sketch
If I'm caught smokin' blunts, I catch a bad one from my clan, see
I'm higher than a Messiah so you know I'm handy dandy

Legalize it Holmes 'cause the zone's gettin' bigger
From the whites to the Ricans 'cause they learned it from the niggaz
So who's the first to kick it real for the cypher?
Eight Phillies so you know you gots to pass the other lighter

Pass the incense gents, it smells out in the hall
My groupies think I'm stunnin' 'cause I'm six feet tall
No need for the sheepa cheeba cleaner than Beaver Cleaver
Though I'm down to pitch, with my skit like Tom Seaver

Either or my jaw speak of true features
I must be, the freaker of this doper class teacher
So pass the Visine, so you can keep your eyes clean
Look to Looney Tunes, we lowered the boom

Lower da boom, you got to lower da boom
Where the brothers puff the ism and the smoke clouds the room
Spark that blunt, represent don't front
We got what you want, it's the indo funk

Lower da boom, you got to lower da boom
Where the brothers puff the ism and the smoke clouds the room
Spark that blunt, represent don't front
We got what you want, it's the indo funk

Lower da boom, spark that blunt
Lower da boom, ya got to lower da boom
Spark that blunt, represent don't front

I just wanna say that, ahh
A lot of you cats, that don't think
Marijuana should be legalized
Well, you're all fucked, cut
Lower da boom

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93f4846f04a2fce185c5a13fc532c0c4

Get 'Em Girls - The Mizzle Outro - Lyrics - Purple Haze - Cam'Ron

Title: Get 'Em Girls - The Mizzle Outro
Album: Purple Haze
Artist: Cam'Ron
Composer(s): Cameron Giles, Dario Ruben Rodriguez

Lyric:
I get the boasters boasting, I get computers puting
Y'all get shot at, call me, I do the shooting
I do the recruiting, I tutor the students
I nurture they brain, I'm moving the movement

Whether Buddhist or Buddha, that's Judist or Juda
I got luger to ruger, hit from Roota to Toota
Chick from hooter to hooter, I put two in producers
I'm the real boss story, the hoolah of Hoosiers

I rock mostly dosey, I roll mostly dololy
I'll leave you wholy, holy, you'll say "Holy Moly"
Here come the coroner get 'em, play "Rolly Poley"
I'll tell you true stories, how I coldly hold heat

When it's repping time, I get on extra grind
Fried to fricassee, pepper seed to pepper dine
Jeff Hamilton, Genesis, leather time
Bitches say I'm the man, I tell 'em never mind

They getting nice, they got some ice
Let's get the dice and roll 'em, get 'em girls
They getting chips, they flippin' bricks
Get the Rots and Pits, tell 'em, get 'em girls

See acting feisty, getting shiesty
Call her wifey, tell her, get 'em girls
Just lay back, get your face slapped
We at the race track, eight stacks, get 'em girls

You acting funny nigga, come dumb, dumby nigga
Killa keeps twenty blikers, I'm getting money nigga
So you should move away or join the dude in Play
Hey, so you can say, I'm getting money nigga

First pal up in the rare, I style up in my gear
Stallion of the year, medallions in my ear
Whips on my fists, houses on my wrists
Your budget on my neck, your spouse on my dick

Posters on the wall, posted on my balls
Dick in her mouth, I tell her I'm getting money nigga
Y'all faking the fizzle, I'm caking for shizzle
Fuck a sizzler steak, my steak stay sizzled

Eight, boom, boom, my ace boon coon
Shake, bake, skate, vroom, vroom, we getting money nigga
Seventh to eighth, zoom, zoom, boom, boom tune
For I get like that boom, boom room, I'm getting money nigga

Wreck 'n effects, zoom, zoom, meh poon, poon
Since the movie cacoon had my uzi, platooned
I'm getting money nigga

They getting nice, they got some ice
Let's get the dice and roll 'em, get 'em girls
They getting chips, they flippin' bricks
Get the Rots and Pits, tell 'em, get 'em girls

See acting feisty, getting shiesty
Call her wifey, tell her get 'em girls
Just lay back, get your face slapped
We at the race track, eight stacks, get 'em girl

My team is the goonies, we where seen with buffonies
Toonies, best dressed, stay up in Nemis and Bloomies
Want to hit it from the back, she agreed that I'm looney
But proceeded to moon me, I'm getting money nigga

Baby, BS in honey do, Cam, VS 1 and 2
I'll help you get your son out of P.S. 22
Get him a Maury flow, from the Maury show
Fuck around, y'all gonna be up on the Maury Show

He in boot camp, you on food stamps
Welfare, no health care, a true tramp
And I'm lockey, lockey, leave you pokey, pokey
No Rice a Roni, that's the Okey, Dokey

Me and Toby homie, make you do the hokey pokey
Pull the pound, up and down, turn yourself around shorty
Here's some weed, burn yourself a pound whodie
Here's a map, go load yourself a town, sporty
I was down forty now I'm up fifty
Buck fifty, buck quickly, who could fuck with me? Killa

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aec0e0dc674291c13a72a750847e7ba0

Get Em Girls - Lyrics - Cam'Ron

Title: Get Em Girls
Artist: Cam'Ron
Composer(s): Cameron Giles, Dario Ruben Rodriguez

Lyric:
I get the boasters boasting, I get computers puting
Y'all get shot at, call me, I do the shooting
I do the recruiting, I tutor the students
I nurture they brain, I'm moving the movement

Whether Buddhist or Buddha, that's Judist or Juda
I got luger to ruger, hit from Roota to Toota
Chick from hooter to hooter, I put two in producers
I'm the real boss story, the hoolah of Hoosiers

I rock mostly dosey, I roll mostly dololy
I'll leave you wholy, holy, you'll say "Holy Moly"
Here come the coroner get 'em, play "Rolly Poley"
I'll tell you true stories, how I coldly hold heat

When it's repping time, I get on extra grind
Fried to fricassee, pepper seed to pepper dine
Jeff Hamilton, Genesis, leather time
Bitches say I'm the man, I tell 'em never mind

They getting nice, they got some ice
Let's get the dice and roll 'em, get 'em girls
They getting chips, they flippin' bricks
Get the Rots and Pits, tell 'em, get 'em girls

See acting feisty, getting shiesty
Call her wifey, tell her, get 'em girls
Just lay back, get your face slapped
We at the race track, eight stacks, get 'em girls

You acting funny nigga, come dumb, dumby nigga
Killa keeps twenty blikers, I'm getting money nigga
So you should move away or join the dude in Play
Hey, so you can say, I'm getting money nigga

First pal up in the rare, I style up in my gear
Stallion of the year, medallions in my ear
Whips on my fists, houses on my wrists
Your budget on my neck, your spouse on my dick

Posters on the wall, posted on my balls
Dick in her mouth, I tell her I'm getting money nigga
Y'all faking the fizzle, I'm caking for shizzle
Fuck a sizzler steak, my steak stay sizzled

Eight, boom, boom, my ace boon coon
Shake, bake, skate, vroom, vroom, we getting money nigga
Seventh to eighth, zoom, zoom, boom, boom tune
For I get like that boom, boom room, I'm getting money nigga

Wreck 'n effects, zoom, zoom, meh poon, poon
Since the movie cacoon had my uzi, platooned
I'm getting money nigga

They getting nice, they got some ice
Let's get the dice and roll 'em, get 'em girls
They getting chips, they flippin' bricks
Get the Rots and Pits, tell 'em, get 'em girls

See acting feisty, getting shiesty
Call her wifey, tell her get 'em girls
Just lay back, get your face slapped
We at the race track, eight stacks, get 'em girl

My team is the goonies, we where seen with buffonies
Toonies, best dressed, stay up in Nemis and Bloomies
Want to hit it from the back, she agreed that I'm looney
But proceeded to moon me, I'm getting money nigga

Baby, BS in honey do, Cam, VS 1 and 2
I'll help you get your son out of P.S. 22
Get him a Maury flow, from the Maury show
Fuck around, y'all gonna be up on the Maury Show

He in boot camp, you on food stamps
Welfare, no health care, a true tramp
And I'm lockey, lockey, leave you pokey, pokey
No Rice a Roni, that's the Okey, Dokey

Me and Toby homie, make you do the hokey pokey
Pull the pound, up and down, turn yourself around shorty
Here's some weed, burn yourself a pound whodie
Here's a map, go load yourself a town, sporty
I was down forty now I'm up fifty
Buck fifty, buck quickly, who could fuck with me? Killa

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c03fe3e0b08e4b848927a6cb094b4c55

Song For Shelter - Lyrics - Illuminati - Fatboy Slim

Title: Song For Shelter
Album: Illuminati
Artist: Fatboy Slim
Composer(s): Roland Clark, Norman Cook

Lyric:
I get deep, I get deep, I get deep, I get deeper
Into this thing
The deeper I go the more knowledge I know
What to sing, what to bring
What

I get deep, I get deep, I get deep, I get deeper, deeper, deeper
Into the rhyme, what?
Chillin' in the corner at the shelter all by myself
Checkin it out I'm not dancin' no more but
Why? Why? Why? What?

How on earth are you supposed to vibe around the, the fake ones
The one, the ones that say
They know what is what but they don't know what is what
They just strut
What the fuck? What?

I get deep, I get deep, I get deep, I get deep, I get deeper
Into this thing
And I pretend that they're not there
I just stare

Up in the booth at the dread man spinnin' the song
Spinnin' it strong
Playing things like
We cannot house we can
That's my shit, what?
Woo

I get deep, I get deep, I get deeper, I get deeper
When people start to disappear
And it's about six o'clock
Woo, I'm feelin' hot

Take off my sweater and my pants
And I start to dance
And all the sweat just goes down my face
And I pretend that there's nobody there but me in this place
I get deep, oh, I get deep
What? Woo

I get deep, I get deep, I get deep, I get deep
When he takes all the bass out of the song
And all you hear is highs and it's like
Oh shit, ahh
I get deep

I get deep, I get deep, I get deep, I get deep
And the rhythm flows through my blood like alcohol
And I get drunk and I, oh, all over the place
And I catch myself right on time, right on line with the beat
And it's so sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet

I get deeper
I get deeper
I get deeper

If the house music was ale
And doctor love would be my song
And I would only take deep breaths
And fill my lungs with the rhythm or the bass
I get deep

Now it's about three a.m. and I see people doin' plea
Spinnin', jumpin' and grindin' as if they had wings on their feet
Raising both hands in the air as if Jesus was the DJ himself
Spinnin' those funky, funky, funky house beats

And in this temple we all pray in unity for the same thing
With matic pause without cause
Bass from those high definition speakers
Sitting in the corner on each side of the room
Givin' us the boom, boom, boom
To our zoom, zoom, zoom

The smell of a L lit while walking by
But the music gets me high
Sanctified like an old lady in church
We get happy, we stomp our feet
We clap our hands, we shout, we cry
We dance and we say, "Sweet Lord, speak to me"

Speak to me, speak to me, speak to me
Because we love house music
And on this planet it brings us together
Like a family reunion every week

We eat, we drink
We laugh, we play and we skate
So for all you hip hoppers
You do woppers, name droppers, you bill boppers
You come into our house to get deep
What? To get deep

You guys just keep it rollin'
You gotta just keep it rollin'
You guys just keep it rollin'
You gotta just keep it rollin'

You guys just keep it rollin'
You gotta just keep it rollin'
You guys just keep it rollin'
You gotta just keep it rollin'

You guys just keep it rollin'
You gotta just keep it rollin'
You guys just keep it rollin'
You gotta just keep it rollin'
...

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92ff4db4493264dab23034418140d000

Ackrite - Lyrics - Dr. Dre 2001 - Dr. Dre

Title: Ackrite
Album: Dr. Dre 2001
Artist: Dr. Dre
Composer(s): Andre Romell Young, Brian Anthony Bailey, Melvin Bradford

Lyric:
It's fuckin' ackrite
Question is, can I get some? Knahmsayin'?
Ackrite bitch
When I see you in the spot, you just ackrite, you knahmsayin'?
When I yank you by the fuckin' perm
Don't be lookin' at a nigga crazy
Just get with the digits and be the fuck out, you knahmsayin?
Let me break it down for y'all

It was just one of those days when I wanted to catch sunrays
Fun to get blunted on a Sunday, afternoon
Nigga babe got room, grab the gat for misbehaviors
And the chocolate faded boom, flossin' hip-hop tunes
Zoom-zoom like the Commodores
Wonder will we have drama or, end up clownin' whores
Around the full good-to-go girls

Like them Barbicose girls, ridin' shotgun, baby
I be postin' all-world in the ride
Sippin' 151 that gave me too much pride to back down
Soon as we get to the beach I'ma put my fuckin' Mack down
I'm playin' lead, not the background
It's time to put Bronson on the map now
Walk with my hand on my Johnson, crack a smile
Cuties peep my style, if I don't get some ackrite I'ma have to ack-wild

Blunt in my left hand, drink in my right
Strap by my waistline, 'cause niggaz don't fight
Sucker free for life, so you better think twice
(Aight? And a give a nig' some ackrite)
I'm the type of nigga playa haters don't like
Snatchin' up your honey for some late night hype
And snobby-ass bitches get slapped out of spite
(Aight? So give a nig' some ackrite, right)

Drink kickin' in, I'm stimulated
For those that don't know big words, I'm fuckin' faded
Eighty-three degrees, ease to a shaded spot
Our first spot was cool 'til some gangsters made it hot
Now we plot and pose
Plus we watchin' hoes with lots of flesh exposed
Gettin' swarmed by those type of niggaz with no game but brown-nose
So I impose only like pros can

"Yo, is this your man?" "No" Grab the bitch's hand
"I'm Hittman", bling, gold chain gleam
"You're very eligible for my summer league team"
Maybe too extreme 'cause the sister got steamed
Then Miss Thing tried to scream on my brethern
I got mad, spit flame on the name Stefan, tattooed on her arm
Hoe you ain't the bomb, must be a dyke
Witcho' lips swoll, and give a nig' some ackrite

Blunt in my left hand, drink in my right
Strap by my waistline, 'cause niggaz don't fight
Sucker free for life, so you better think twice
(And a give a nig' some ackrite)
I'm the type of nigga playa haters don't like
Snatchin' up your honey for some late night hype
And snobby-ass bitches get slapped out of spite
(So give a nig' some ackrite)

Frontin' on the ack-rite, causin' me to act up
Good Samaritan save that hoe from gettin' slapped up
My homies crack up at the scene I made
Yo, my actions ain't serene when a nigga's on fade
If it wasn't for the one-time brigade
I woulda sprayed at the hooker tramp
As cops parade I'm afraid it's time to break camp, make tracks
Where else can we go to take hoes from fake Macks

Aiyyo, chase them girls in that black Maxima
The passenger, almost fractured her, neckbone, lookin' back at us
Plus, they on the dick cause the Caddy's plush
They blush, I bumrush the hush, with the largest crush
Try to swing an EP tonight so I don't have to keep in touch
Keep it on hush without the tip-in
Mackin' interrupted by some niggaz set-trippin'
Clip in the strap, I showed these niggaz how to act

Blunt in my left hand, drink in my right
Strap by my waistline, 'cause niggaz don't fight
Sucker free for life, so you better think twice
(Aight? And a give a nig' some ackrite)
I'm the type of nigga playa haters don't like
Snatchin' up your honey for some late night hype
And snobby-ass bitches get slapped out of spite
(Aight? So give a nig' some ackrite, right)

Biatch

{I just wanna put my dick on your shoulder
So you can put it on your mind later on
Take that dick off your shoulder
And put it in your mouth
Drink the evidence
And hide the dick behind your head
The police is comin
It's called ten
Put this dick behind your head}

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502fb3389563bf6ceb4b0366fffd8ec4

Rock Stars - Lyrics - Non Phixion

Title: Rock Stars
Artist: Non Phixion
Composer(s): William Braunstein, John Fuentes, Mitchell Manzanilla, Chris E Martin

Lyric:
And now it's time bring out the headliner for the evening
Very special, please welcome to the stage

Escape from New York, but I be on some Brooklyn, bullshit
I pull clips as fast as I dose chicks with ope tits
Call me Necor, set the coke surviving the sticks
Got my name all in your mouth like your liable to brick

Click me on the tube, chain swinging down to my shoes
Light up the room, African boom, spark it and zoom
Disciple of rock, the type to range rifles and cops
I'm spiteful, fake's get left shaking like Michael J Fox

I deliver aids infected acupuncture
Gangster and hustler murderer and kidnap a suspect
Wrap her in [unverified] with blood red to crip blue
My shit's to colorful
Running through with a hundred goons and maniacs

If a bitch like to suck dick, she a brainiac
Bust up in they mouth piece, see how they react, take it back
Like a instant replay, live in the PJ's, watching my uncle Freebase
Analyzing the angles on a fiend's face
I learn to love my trees lace, the way the PCP taste

The way it make me see things
Old school dice spot bills and sheep skins as I write
Yes, I'm rocking Iceberg jeans and Tims
Thinking where I'm going be in 2007

Either a house in the Hamptons or a house in Heaven
I be chillin' on the beach in the South of Venice
Or merking the President live on Channel 7

Coming through rocking
Wild like rock stars, who smash guitars
(Inspectah Deck)
Non Phixion, unadulterated, emcee's

Coming through rocking
Wild like rock stars, who smash guitars
(Inspectah Deck)
Non Phixion, unadulterated, emcee's

I be Brooklyn till I die don't even question it twice
My crew's nice, late night at the corners we shooting dice
It's like, summertime in New York, jeans, shorts, tims
Tanktops to roofies, groupies acting loosely

Who'll be, in a black drop with his hat cocked that can't block
Puff on the stove, get spit in snapshots
I'm trying to live, feed the kids, drive some whips, handle biz
Own a crib, do my shit, in the streets, that's how it is

If I say, rock star, I'm talking about rocking the mic
My shit's hot like the rock fiend dropping a pipe
These cats are idiots, with raps so pussy they catch period's
I'm serious, my life is like a drug experience

A porno movie with no plot and I'm the only guy in it
Like Vivid video's with Kobe Tai dime, bitches
Ill Bill rap crusader, chilling in the black Navigator
Canarsie to Pennsylvania
Wild like rock, rock stars, who, who smash guitars

Coming through rocking
Wild like rock stars, who smash guitars
(Inspectah Deck)
Non Phixion, unadulterated, emcee's

Break Mumia out, bang you with shells and heaters out
Blast off the terrorist, blow bombs and speakers out
Hookers and bricks, gutter cats, bitches and pimps
Cripples and Gimps, ex-cons, pushers and tricks

Street poet, speak the essence, what's realer than this
Up in the club smoked out coke, the feeling of Cris
You lighting the wrist, Richard Simmons fro with a pick
Taking my record label hostage if they stompin' my shit

I remember them cold nights and long lines for clubs
Now it's strictly VIP, free drinks and drugs
Pounds and hugs, getting back rubs
Be them underground thugs

Stay street but got new found love
Take a Continental, driver rental, travel the globe
Non Phixion to the end worldwide we rock shows
Explode from out the projects, Glenwood to Drysneck
Hold your drink up and make a toast to how the gods get

Coming through rocking
Wild like rock stars, who smash guitars
(Inspectah Deck)
Non-Phixion, unadulterated, emcee's

Coming through rocking
Wild like rock stars, who smash guitars
(Inspectah Deck)
Non-Phixion, unadulterated, emcee's

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c58e7856844e39e4ded4d603af9f183b

Kinda High Kinda Drunk - Lyrics - Gangsta's Paradise - Coolio

Title: Kinda High Kinda Drunk
Album: Gangsta's Paradise
Artist: Coolio
Composer(s): James Carter, Michael Diamond, Artis Ivey, Adam Horovotz, Adam Yauch, Rick Rubin, Jesse Bonds Jr Weaver, Dominic Aldridge

Lyric:
Got kinda high and uhh kinda drunk
Beer drinkin', beer-beer drinkin', eight ball
Got kinda high and uhh kinda drunk
Beer drinkin', beer-beer drinkin', eight ball
Got kinda high and uhh kinda drunk
Beer drinkin', beer-beer drinkin', eight ball
Got kinda high and uhh kinda drunk
Beer drinkin', beer-beer drinkin', eight ball
Got kinda high and uhh kinda drunk
Beer drinkin', beer-beer drinkin', eight ball

I'm sittin' at the bar with a hundred dollar bill
The homies is runnin' late so I got some time to kill
I'm peepin' out this freak in the booth in the corner
I think I seen her rollin' a noble, nosin' under and moanin'
Two freaks walked in and they was lookin' for a vic
But they, kept on passin' me by 'cuz they can recognize a trick
Twenty minutes later and two double shots of yak
I take a look up at the clock, I wonder where the homies at

I feel my pager's on my hipbone, who could it be
'Cuz I done talked to everybody that I was 'sposed to see
Hahaa! Now I know, the story is told
And I don't even call 'em back 'cuz they don't know the homie cold
I've recieved a page, my love from the phone in the back
I got a wink from a pretty brown sugar dressed in black
Another double shot of yak and now the room is spinnin'
But that's only the beginning, 'cause the

Got kinda high and uhh kinda drunk
Beer drinkin', beer-beer drinkin', eight ball
Got kinda high and uhh kinda drunk
Beer drinkin', beer-beer drinkin', eight ball
Got kinda high and uhh kinda drunk
Beer drinkin', beer-beer drinkin', eight ball
Got kinda high and uhh kinda drunk
Beer drinkin', beer-beer drinkin', eight ball

I take a walk out to the front to get myself some air and
See if I see the homies, but they still ain't there
There's a fool outside drunk and he want to get into it
I was strapped I coulda bust him, but I didn't do it
I opted for the walk-away, watch the busta talked away
So mister policeman, you can put your chalk away
I mobb back in the club, and kick it at my table
'Cuz, bustas be acting stupid, and stupidness is fatal

The homies is hella late, and now I'm startin' to think
Homegirl that gave me the wink from earlier just bought me a drink
She's sittin' at a stool at the other side of the bar
Doing tricks with her tounge and a cherry like a porno star
The club is gettin' packed and the party is jumpin'
Another double shot of yak and I'm on the dancefloor bumpin'
She's licking in my ear and, now I'm feeling faded
It's 11:35 and my homies still ain't made it

Got kinda high and uhh kinda drunk
Beer drinkin', beer-beer drinkin', eight ball
Got kinda high and uhh kinda drunk
Beer drinkin', beer-beer drinkin', eight ball
Got kinda high and uhh kinda drunk
Beer drinkin', beer-beer drinkin', eight ball
Got kinda high and uhh kinda drunk
Beer drinkin', beer-beer drinkin', eight ball

Now I'm on the dance floor with baby and, things is gettin' hectic
The big homey done erected, damn I've been affected
By the funk in the boom and the booty in the room
This ain't The Commodores but this brick house got me on zoom
Now I'm mackin' and struttin' and asking, "Baby wassup?"
My name ain't Everlast, but I can still make you jump
Let's, hop in the Q and go somewhere and kick it like some trojans
We can do a little drinkin', and do a little smoking

When all of a sudden I start sweatin', my stomach starts bubblin'
I hear earl coming, I think I'm in trouble, I got baby on her titties
I guess there go my chances of gettin' with her phi phi
I turn around and stumble away and there go the homies with
Long ass trenchcoats on, laughing, sippin' on 40's
Now in the back of my own car curled up like a punk
'Cuz I got too high and I got too drunk

Got kinda high and uhh kinda drunk
Beer drinkin', beer-beer drinkin', eight ball
Got kinda high and uhh kinda drunk
Beer drinkin', beer-beer drinkin', eight ball
Got kinda high and uhh kinda drunk
Beer drinkin', beer-beer drinkin', eight ball
Got kinda high and uhh kinda drunk
Beer drinkin', beer-beer drinkin', eight ball

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531fe9ff7333cdbbbbc61decae6b2384

Don'T Waste My Time - Lyrics - Grand Puba

Title: Don'T Waste My Time
Artist: Grand Puba
Composer(s): K Jones, Maxwell Dixon

Lyric:
Yeah, uhh
Alamo Productions proudly presents
A head-banger, check

Look at that sexy mama
She sho' likes to grind
Look at that sexy lady
Please don't waste my time

Look at that sexy mama
She sho' likes to grind
Look at that sexy lady
Please don't waste my time

I'ma tell you now that girl's just ain't right
Let me tell you 'bout this episode I had last night
I takes me a shower then I grabs a quick bite
Then I called Doogie Love to find out the Kronkite, dig it

Something's going on, an industry party downtown
I'm coming to get ya nigga so, listen for the horn
Before we hit the location, gotta pick up Alamo
And get a bag of situation, now we downtown

Four blocks from the spot, time to park the car
Honies outside, knowing who to give ?
But you know how niggaz from the projects are
Free drinks 'til ten, yo money, where's the fucking bar?

Honies all creamed out types and all looking cute
Me and Doogie same ol' low-top baggy jeans and boots
Body banging, tits hanging while we profiling
Me and Ali' mad geeked off Long Island

Uhh, picture that but then it dawned on me black
Honey set them traps that's why Tyson was where he was at
They want you for your name and fame, quick to get butt naked
When you play 'em out, they run and said you tried to take it

That's why I don't talk to those, who like to pose in videos
With no clothes and groupies at shows
'Cause I know what's going on, you won't catch me in the wrong
Don't even try it baby, dig it

Look at that sexy mama
She sho' likes to grind
Look at that sexy lady
Please don't waste my time

Well, times is getting drastic, time to pack the plastic
Slide up in the wrong one, you'll end up in the casket
No not me, I'm more careful see
I make sho' I can't catch that old HIV

But I tell you entertainment is some shit
These groupie girls are sick
Do most anything so they can get picked
To come to your room, smoke a little boom

Hear a little tune after that, zoom zoom
No thanks, I'm only here for the bank
And I'ma tell you point blank, won't let my dick walk the plank
I hate to bust your bubble so be out on the double

'Cause I know how you groupies are and I don't want no trouble
So give me my cash and I'll pass on that ass
When it comes to hitting ass on the road I'll just fast
But don't you talk about skins all the time?

Baby, not all the time but when I do talk about skins they mine
I refuse to go out like Magic Johnson have to retire
'Cause I touched a live wire, now my shit's on fire
I travel in the name of Allah

Won't be a falling star for no hooker in a bra, that's dead
You won't, roll me out, on a stretcher
'Cause my second head, led my first head into bed
So baby gets to stepping, be gone 'fore you nigga make a move like that
Just make sure you put a rubber on

Look at that sexy mama
She sho' likes to grind
Look at that sexy lady
Please don't waste my time

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a2947b3b1684c3a43d3539437af90503

Dirty - Lyrics - Spin - Darren Hayes

Title: Dirty
Album: Spin
Artist: Darren Hayes
Composer(s): Walter Afanasieff, Darren Stanley Hayes

Lyric:
You lookin' like first class
Acting like a cheap date
Honey drippin' smile, so stylin'
Bet you know what you do
Don't you, baby?

Eyes that penetrate
Heat that degenerates
Lust communicates
I can hardly wait to get to you
To show you, baby

If you want to, I can be dirty too
I can spin you around, pick you up and go down
If you want to, I can be just like you
And do the dirty things you do

You walk into a room
Inpeceptible boom
Tight shot, close zoom
When you move it's assumed
You feel it too, don't you, baby?

Tickin' like a fuse
There's an itch I gotta scratch
Ten minutes in a room
Get this monkey off my back
Any dark space would do to show you, baby

If you want to, I can be dirty too
I can spin you around, pick you up and go down
If you want to, I can be just like you
And do the dirty things you do

Why don't you tell me your sign?
I hear we're two of a kind
Scorpio, I been told, you're my most compatible ride
Oh, let me tell you again

You make me wanna pop, pop, pop, pop, pop
[Incomprehensible] mood you're inside my brain
I never wanna stop, stop, stop, stop, stop
Oh, could you do that again?

You make me wanna bam, bam, bam, bam, bam
Shut the blinds, baby, let the door slam
Intergalactic, super bombastic, go from the top
Baby, don't ever stop till I tell you to
Oh, could you do that again?

If you want to, I can be dirty too
I can spin you around, pick you up even go down
If you want to, I can be just like you
And be dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty too

Scorpio, I been told
You're my most compatible ride
Fade to black, commercial break
This is where the censor kicks in

I think you better close your eyes, block your ears
This could be the gem of the year
Oh, if you do that again, again, again

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02abe41bb9d377190c50808f6feb876e