Burn Bitch Burn - Lyrics - Animalize - Kiss

Title: Burn Bitch Burn
Album: Animalize
Artist: Kiss
Composer(s): Gene Simmons

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

Lyric:
Well it's out of the fryin' pan and into the fire
You're bent over, baby, and let me be the driver
A just a cut of pink, wouldn't believe me if I told you
But this time you bit off more than you can chew

My my, yeah
Just listen to this, babe

I got nasty habits, it's a fine line
So many girls and so little time
When love rears its head
I wanna get on your case, oh yeah

Oh babe, I wanna put my log in your fireplace
Ooo maybe, baby, you wanna get played

Burn bitch burn, ooo
Burn bitch burn, ooo
Burn bitch burn, ooo
Burn bitch burn
Yeah!

It's an act of thrust and anyway you slice it
No sticks and stones, no kicks and groans can hide it
So why kid yourself, it's so cut and dry
Baby, your body's condemned and figures don't lie

I gotta cover my class, want to sit up and beg
Gotta keep my tail between my legs
You're cuttin' off your nose to spite your face
Oh babe, gonna put you in your place

So burn bitch burn, ooo
Well the heels are stacked now
Burn bitch burn, ooo
And there's nothin' you can do
Burn bitch burn, ooo
So don't burn your bridges
Burn bitch burn
We're all through
We are all through, baby
So just burn

Well the heels are stacked against you
Don't burn your bridges, we're all through
Hey babe and there's nothin' you can do

Burn bitch burn, ooo
And there's nothin' you can do babe
Burn bitch burn, ooo
We're all through
Burn bitch burn, ooo
Burn me, burn my baby
Burn bitch burn, yeah

Burn bitch burn, ooo
Burn me, burn my baby
Burn bitch burn, ooo
Burn bitch burn, ooo
Burn bitch burn, ooo, yeah

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967948314cbc3158edd6927ee93b3351

Burn It Down - Lyrics - Heavy - Swollen Members

Title: Burn It Down
Album: Heavy
Artist: Swollen Members
Composer(s): Kiley Hendricks, Shane Bunting, Daniel James Denton, West Plischke

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

Lyric:
Burn it down
Burn it down

I just can't stop tonight, 'cuz it's hot tonight
I wanna burn it down
I know I'm feelin' right an' I'm feelin' like
I'm gonna burn it down

Ain't nothin' gonna stop this train, 'cuz it's off the chain
I wanna burn it down
Oh, I wanna burn it down
Really wanna burn it down

I possess more power then the Marvel Universe
You understand now, but you all got startled at first
We don't play your game, we make up our own rules
I'm runnin' on full strength, I'll pick up a phone booth

Throw it right at you, that and I'm tattooed
Voice deeper than Ab Rude when I'm in a bad mood
This is my neighborhood, a place where you never could
Get over, it's over for you, you'd run if you knew what was good

For your health, I ain't huntin' for no one else
An' there's no one else here, so you can quit yellin' for help
It's like the house of a thousand corpses
For some it's hideous, to me it's gorgeous

Now spark your things an' make a frame
Tonight we gonna do it like we all insane
Pyromaniacs burn this bitch
An' now you gonna learn whose turn this is

Light your shit up, get up and move
You bring the fire, I got mine too
Plus, we got nothin' to prove
We're gonna burn it down when we're steppin' through

Yo, double fantasy of crime and punishment
I don't think you understand the amount of astonishing
Thoughts that I'm unharnessing, an uncommon phenomenon
Shit's over the top covert ops recognizance, I'm on those you cannibals

I'm the most expandable, dangerous man on the planet
You can fuck a farm animal
Don't panic, it's an insane maniac, don't pay any attention
Of course I've got problems, too many to mention

Rappers comin' up like, what you got there?
Another Swollen Members album? It's not fair
Please believe I'll be livin' illegal
If I can't keep sellin' CDs to people

But my voice is lethal deep, I breathe ether
You're like I don't really wanna fuck with him, me neither
I'm focused, it's nothing to joke about
I'm loco, I'll vocally choke you out

I just can't stop tonight, 'cuz it's hot tonight
I wanna burn it down
I know I'm feelin' right an' I'm feelin' like
I'm gonna burn it down

Ain't nothin' gonna stop this train, 'cuz it's off the chain
I wanna burn it down
Oh, I wanna burn it down
Really wanna burn it down

Watch, while I knock your socks off
I'm just here to make somethin' obnoxious pop off
An' I'ma kill it even if I have to talk soft
Let me turn this up an' make you crack your drop top

I cannot stop, it's like a curse
You'll break your jaw just tryin' to recite my verse
I write raps in the sun while I quench my thirst
Police helicopters gettin' on my nerves

Emergency, you burnin' third degree
So be alert while I work, you could learn from me
Yeah, I smoke cigarettes and knock back my Forgers
Say my name, you're liable to crack your molars

I don't rub shoulders, schmooze or mingle
And pop X and [Incomprehensible] drink booze and tingle
I just do enough so the clubs can sing to
My song tellin' me that I love your single

I love you, I'm single, no you don't
It's just my pocket's jingle I know you want
You want keys, an' G's and all the iller things
But slow your roll ma, 'cuz I fund a million things

This time 16 ain't enough
I've got a couple more bars of the famous stuff
It's Moka O, my name's like a stain in rust
That ain't about to disappear, yeah same with us, ya know?

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588f034ff07e84bd13c6fa1dab4a21d8

Momma'S Gotta Die Tonight - Lyrics - Body Count

Title: Momma'S Gotta Die Tonight
Artist: Body Count
Composer(s): Ernest T. Cunnigan, Tracy Lauren Marrow

Lyric:
No, no, no, momma

All my life I loved this girl so much
All my life I loved her simple touch
She cared for me and put me on this earth
Oh, the pain of just a simple birth
But now I find that she has left me dumb and blind
Poisoned, twisted, and destroyed my mind

She taught me things that simply were not true
She taught me hate for race, that's why I hate you
There's only one way I can make it right
Momma's gotta die tonight
There's only one way I can make it right
Momma's gotta die tonight

Momma, momma, I always loved my momma
I always loved my momma
I loved the way she hold me
I love the way she talked to me
She used to teach me a lot of things
She taught me good things, she taught me bad things

"Don't trust white people, don't trust white people
Don't trust white people, they're no good, they're no good
They're no good, they're no good
They're just gonna rip you off, they're just gonna rip you off
Don't trust 'em, don't trust 'em"

I said, "Why momma?"
She said, "I told you don't trust 'em they're no good"
I said, "Momma, I thought we were all the same momma
Why momma?" She said, "Don't ask me any questions
Don't you challenge your mutha", momma

So one day I found I fell in love and I brought my girlfriend home
And I introduced her to my mutha and she smacked me
She was a white girl and I said
"Why momma? Why momma? What did I do wrong?"
You know, I found out my mutha was a evil woman

She hated Puerto Ricans, Mexicans, Jamaicans
Indians, Orientals, momma was no good
I learned to hate my mutha, hate my mutha
So I got some, some lighter fluid from the corner store
And I put it around her bed, and I set her on fire

Burn momma, burn momma, burn momma, burn bitch
Burn, burn, burn, burn you racist bitch

But she wasn't quite dead, she jumped up from the bed
And I grabbed my Louisville Slugger
That she had bought me for my twelfth birthday
And I came up behind her and I hit her, I hit her
I hit her twice, now she was out, I went into the kitchen
And I got that handy carving knife

That we only use on special occasions like
Bullshit Thanksgiving and I took her
And I laid her ol' fucked up corpse on the floor
And I cut her in little bitty pieces, cut off her arms, her feet
Her neck, and I put her into little green hefty bags
And I put it into my car and I said

"Momma, we're goin' on a vacation, a permanent vacation bitch"
I took some of her around the world
To Arizona, New York, Chicago, Atlanta, Miami, Oakland
Yo, you wanna go to Connecticut, bitch, Ohio, Detroit, Texas, L.A.
Whose laughin' now momma, whose laughin' now bitch
Whose laughin' now

So if you got a mutha or a grandmutha or a father
Who wants to carry on the same racist bullshit
That's fucked this world up from day one
You can either look 'em in the face and tell 'em
To suck your dick or do like Body Count does

All my life I loved this girl so much
All my life I loved her simple touch
She cared for me and put me on this earth
Oh, the pain of just a simple birth
But now I find that she has left me dumb and blind
Poisoned, twisted, and destroyed my mind

She taught me things that simply were not true
She taught me hate for race, that's why I hate you
There's only one way I can make it right
Momma's gotta die tonight
There's only one way I can make it right
Momma's gotta die tonight

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b3ee02b1ba651868334a3af2d330bb4f

She'S A Bitch - Lyrics - Da Real World - Missy Elliott

Title: She'S A Bitch
Album: Da Real World
Artist: Missy Elliott
Composer(s): Tim Mosley, Missy Elliott

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

Lyric:
To the M I prr, cat like a semi
Nigga stole my car, why'nt you get my?
Give yo' ass a black eye, oh, say bye-bye
I'mma give your body to the sky
Run through your clique, nigga, you pissed on trip
I'mma have to bust you in your lips
And the whips better have a whole lotta chips
'Coz I ain't for no nigga givin' tips

She's a bitch
When you say my name
Talk mo' junk but won't look my way
She's a bitch
See I got more cheese
So back on up while I roll up my sleeves

She's a bitch
You can't see me, Joe
Get on down while I shoot my flow
She's a bitch
When I do my thing
Got the place on fire, burn it down to flame

Roll up in my car, don't stop, won't stop
I'mma keep in rockin' 'til the clock don't talk
I'mma keep it hot, light my ass on fire
I'mma grab a philly, go and roll it at the bar
Whatcha talk? Whatcha say? Huh?
Gotta flow, gotta move it slow, huh?
Better you runnin' out the door, huh?
You gon' be a long lost soul, whatcha say?

Yippe yi yo, yippe yi yi yay
Put me on stage, watchin' niggas feel me
Put my shit on wax, watch it blaze like May
Go yippe yi yo yippe yi yi yay
55, 65, hike
75, 85, test the mic
95, Missy wild for the night
105, I'mma keep the crowd hyped

She's a bitch
When they say my name
Talk mo' junk but won't look my way
She's a bitch
See I got mo' cheese
Back on up while I roll up my sleeve

She's a
What? What? What? What?
What? What? What? What?

Whatchu know about Timothy? Lemme know
Eat an MC like Cease, lemme know
If he get drunk lean on me, lemme know
I'm about to bust like pee, feel me now
Anybody know my skills, what the deal?
Anybody feel my skills, it's the real
Anybody wanna come fuck wit us still?
Anybody gotta get the hoe by they pill

She's a bitch
When you say my name
Talk mo' junk but won't look my way
She's a bitch
See I got more cheese
So back on up while I roll up my sleeves

She's a bitch
You can't see me, Joe
Get on down while I shoot my flow
She's a bitch
When I do my thing
Got the place on fire, burn it down to flame

She's a bitch
When you say my name
Talk mo' junk but won't look my way
She's a bitch
See I got more cheese
So back on up while I roll up my sleeves

She's a bitch
You can't see me, Joe
Get on down while I shoot my flow
She's a bitch
When I do my thing
Got the place on fire, burn it down to flame

She's a bitch
When you say my name
Talk mo' junk but won't look my way
She's a bitch
See I got more cheese
So back on up while I roll up my sleeves

She's a bitch
You can't see me, Joe
Get on down while I shoot my flow
She's a bitch
When I do my thing
Got the place on fire, burn it down to flame

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89c8e24ec9bc2154e1eb14d83b167447

My Turn - Lyrics - Yeeeah Baby - Big Punisher

Title: My Turn
Album: Yeeeah Baby
Artist: Big Punisher
Composer(s): A West, Leshan Lewis, C Rios

Lyric:
Uhh, it's my turn, y'know what I mean?
Get this motherfuckin' money y'know, shit
Yeah, I went double, y'know?
Niggaz goin triple, five, ten platinum
Can't do what I do
This is my game, this is me, y'know?

Yo, it's my turn, I demand my respect
Give me my burn or get slammed in your neck
'Cause it's my turn I'ma reach to the top
Gimme my burn, I'ma speak with the glock
'Cause it's my turn, don't make me turn your wig
Gimme my burn, don't make me burn yo' crib
I'ma rhyme it right and keep the ghetto in a trance
But when the time is right, me and the Devil gonna dance

Fuck you and yours, make way, I'm comin' through the door
And screw the law, breakin' the rules ain't nothin' new at all
I'm true to all the shit that I done, check the clip in my gun
Respect the click that I'm from or get lifted and stunned
Dunn, you just a small fry, fuckin' with the fall guy
Big Pun, The Honorable, all rise
Sky's the limit, nuttin' less if my guys is in it
For the right price, even Christ could get it

Fast life we live it, all my memories are vivid
I remember only minutes
That's how I mentally get rid of all the enemies
The spirits that definitely mimic my every melody
And lyric which so heavenly rhythmic
In magic do I build but math do be equally compatible
And secretively battle you to reach my peak in equilateral
I'm from the streets deep in the bottom yo ain't no Mario Brothers
Official Bronx niggaz, quick to body yo' mother

Yo, it's my turn, I demand my respect
Give me my burn or get slammed in your neck
'Cause it's my turn I'ma reach to the top
Gimme my burn, I'ma speak with the glock
'Cause it's my turn, don't make me turn your wig
Gimme my burn, don't make me burn yo' crib
I'ma rhyme it right and keep the ghetto in a trance
But when the time is right, me and the Devil gonna dance

Jesus H. Christ, how many times I gotta pay the price?
You scared to death I'll make you twice as afraid of life
I bring sight to the game for every night you complained
You couldn't see the light, I was bright in your brain
Ignitin' the flame, keepin' your third lid
Speak and observe with the mind
What are blind sleep till they worth shit

I'm earth wind and fire, the first one to fire
Reppin' T. Squad since birth till I retire
I wire your jaw, wire the walls with plastique explosives
And riot the halls at the malls where all the crackers live
Keep flappin' yo' gibs and I'ma come back with those kids
From the back of the bridge
I think two and touch means tackle the bitch

I rap for the chips but I'm truly assassin'
Four hundred pounds, six feet tall, brutally handsome
That's the pro, got beef with pun, you gots to go
Mafia style, tear you a new asshole
Flash your dough but you too cool for the captain
'Cause I don't give a fuck if I was quadruply platinum
And to the 50 Cent rapper, very funny, get your nut off
'Cause in real life, you don't know
I'll blow your motherfuckin' head off

That's my motherfuckin' word, you understand?
Thought we was a fuckin' joke, shit
Terror Squad nigga, you don't know me
You don't know my name, don't say it, you understand?
Told you before I ain't no motherfuckin' rapper understand?

Shit, I don't make no songs about rappers I don't like
If I'ma make a song
It's gonna be how I beat yo' motherfuckin' ass understand?
That'll be the name of the motherfucker
That's why I had to beat your motherfuckin' ass
Featuring Tony Sunshine, T. Squaders, T. Squaders, T. Squaders

Yo, it's my turn, I demand my respect
Give me my burn or get slammed in your neck
'Cause it's my turn, I'ma reach to the top
Gimme my burn, I'ma speak with the glock
'Cause it's my turn, don't make me turn your wig
Gimme my burn, don't make me burn yo' crib
I'ma rhyme it right and keep the ghetto in a trance
But when the time is right, me and the Devil gonna dance

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b8376e98737ea2253e9cb94abf216f0f

40 - To Whom This May Concern - Lyrics - E

Title: 40 - To Whom This May Concern
Artist: E
Composer(s): Anthony Ransom, Earl Thomas Stevens

Lyric:
Shit, if the shoe fit,
Wear it, fuck it, bitch

To whom this may concern
All you rappers with all that fetti to burn
The industry is finicky, so let me make this clear
They'll have a new nigga next year

To whom this may concern
All you rappers with all that fetti to burn
The industry is finicky, so let me make this clear
They'll have a new nigga next year

I know you're shinin' like a light
I know your record sales, is politics and hype
I know you're boohoo'n
'Cause none of your royalty statements
Never had a check attached to 'em

Famous but unrecoupedm, circumstances predicated on
Large ass video budgets and takin' out advancements
Uhh, March and September, that's quite a ways, 40, 40?
Oh, he get paid every thirty days, shorty

Uhh, I ain't no lame
I'm different from y'all, I come from the game
From the game, I ain't gotta explain
I been hella raw, I been spittin' game

I seen you on the Billboard
I saw you when you got that MTV Award
Uh, number one on SoundScan
Congratulations playa, dude, can I shake yo' hand?

Oh, you don't wanna shake my hand, now you too good now?
Oh, it's like that you 'sidin on yo' folks now?
Enjoy it while you're here
They'll have a new nigga next year

To whom this may concern
All you rappers with all that fetti to burn
The industry is finicky, so let me make this clear
They'll have a new nigga next year

To whom this may concern
All you rappers with all that fetti to burn
The industry is finicky, so let me make this clear
They'll have a new nigga next year

Uhh, air play, program directors from the Bay
Don't support they rappers in the Yea
They figure we ain'ts real hip hop
They lookin' for some mainstream flip flop

But I ain't finsta sit down
Sit down and wait for this shit to come back around
Shit, I just like to perk, whatchu like to do?
I like to get out there and network

Charlie Hustle fall off? I doubt it
Shit, when niggaz stop talkin' about me
That's when I'm gon' worry about it
And if they do, I'ma take the independent road
A hundred thousand units on the underground
Playboy, that's ghetto gold

Never breakin' a sweat
Slangin' albums from the Internet
Ain't nuttin' but respect here
They'll have a new nigga next year

To whom this may concern
All you rappers with all that fetti to burn
The industry is finicky, so let me make this clear
They'll have a new nigga next year

To whom this may concern
All you rappers with all that fetti to burn
The industry is finicky, so let me make this clear
They'll have a new nigga next year

My loyal fans wanna know why it's so noticeable
And how come none of E-40 lyrics
Ain't never been in The Source 'Hip-Hop Quotable'?
To tell the truth it's kinda irkin' me 'cause I don't know

I ain't rappin' too fast, see y'all just listenin' too slow
You can ask 'Zomba', I'm about a thousand songs deep
Spittin' ghetto anthems that I done had
I shoulda been ran out of heat

I had to prove myself first
I didn't get my record deal based on a sixteen measure verse
Uhh, damn right and ever since dude 'Pac passed away
The West coast ain't been eatin' right

If he was alive, I'd ask him for his opinionation
And if he was me, what would he do in this sort of situation
Would he take off on these journalists, tell me what you think?
For assassinatin' motherfuckers characters with all that bad ink?

How they gonna have me Top 50, number forty-three?
I'm a hog, shit, that's why I don't fuck with Blaze
I fuck with Murder Dog

To whom this may concern
All you rappers with all that fetti to burn
The industry is finicky, so let me make this clear
They'll have a new nigga next year

To whom this may concern
All you rappers with all that fetti to burn
The industry is finicky, so let me make this clear
They'll have a new nigga next year

To whom this may concern
All you rappers with all that fetti to burn
The industry is finicky, so let me make this clear
They'll have a new nigga next year

To whom this may concern
All you rappers with all that fetti to burn
The industry is finicky, so let me make this clear
They'll have a new nigga next year

Bitch, see what I'm sayin'? This shit is finicky
It's a fool out there, ya dum dums
Smell this nigga?
Charlie Hustle, millenium ballers nigga, bitch
Thought you thoughtamajig, hoe

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8497dd7e557694a851033395dc5775e3

One Weak - Lyrics - Adrenaline - Deftones

Title: One Weak
Album: Adrenaline
Artist: Deftones
Composer(s): Chino Moreno, Stephen Carpenter, Abe Cunningham, Chi Cheng

Lyric:
Nerve, here I borned feeding on his lung
Verve, is his curse because he wanted to meet Christ alone

Bitch, you're no good, we could be so flown
Misunderstood, we could be your God
There in my bones we could be so flown
Misunderstood, because he wanted to meet Christ alone

But you will
No you will never find me, breach unborn
Never, come here watch me burn
Never, bitch 'cause your scars show
Never, will I burn

Under, beneath the floor
Before his face, 'cause you're no good
We could have been like one
(Fuck it)

Bitch you feel sore, we could be so flown
Misunderstood, because he wanted to meet Christ alone

But you will
No you will never find me, breach unborn
Never sit and watch me burn
Never bitch 'cause your scars show
Never, will I burn
Will I burn
Will I burn
Will I burn

Beg don't try and you will never
Beg don't try and you will never
Beg don't try and you will never
Beg don't even waste your time

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79630d580c3a6e02a2a0d191aa9380e9

Life'S A Bitch - Lyrics - Watermelon, Chicken And Gritz - Nappy Roots

Title: Life'S A Bitch
Album: Watermelon, Chicken And Gritz
Artist: Nappy Roots
Composer(s): C Broady, V Tisdale, M Adams, W Hughes

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

Lyric:
{Aye man, I wonder what's gon' happen the minute my cash get dropped
You ever thought about that skinny? Nope?
Shit what about you scales man? I'm I'm unsure man
I got alotta, lotta question that need to be answered
True we all got questions, but dawg I got questions
I got a lot on my mind, just just
Just get me a blunt man, just fire it up man
Man}

Now fire up the weed, 'cuz one day I'm gon' pro'ly burn
The ten commandments in life, never my concern
Thing on my mind was, 'get 'em, fore they get you
Thing on my mind was, stick 'em fore they stick you
That's why niggaz know, I'm bout the game before peace
'Cuz being free-hearted that's where it leave you deceased

Cold world, cold game they gon' split ya thang
And bang shit out the car what, would drive the average man insane
Ghetto love, ghetto life, ghetto death, then ya gone
And after I'm deceased I'll know life gon' go on
And what about my sons, will they do what daddy didn't finish?
Will the light come to a close, shortly after my decision?

What about daddy's girl? Will she do what I wanted?
Or will she break my heart and let these, niggaz up on it?
What about daddy's girl? Will she do what I wanted?
Or will she break my heart and let these, niggaz up on it?

Life's a bitch
I swear to god, you take your chances
Too many questions, and not enough answers
Life's a bitch, you take your chances
Too many questions, and not enough answers
Life's a bitch, you take your chances
Too many questions, and not enough answers
Life's a bitch, you take your chances
Too many questions, and not enough answers

I'm on the verge of losin' my mind, this word is my last nerve
I done served my last dime, standin' on this crack curb
It's absurd, I been on this block, from the first to the third
Rocked a 'bird and seen two niggaz shot and left for dead in the dirt
I'm concerned if I die by the glock, will my soul soon burn?
My past clash with my future then, take a drastic turn

I'm submerged knee deep in this here, but those around can soon return
Morality's hotter than burn, makin' they hearts they burn
And say, "Fuck the world!"
We all going to hell for some, shit that we deserve
But first we was promised a hearse
And a chance on earth to visit church, for what it's worth

I'm tryin' make ammends for all the sins that occured
The uncontrollable urge that emerged when I, snatched that lady's purse
And the, last week that I slurred, when I, cursed on every verse
Inevitable, but well rehearsed, freezin' my hunger as well as my thirst
Is glocked, ready to burst, on any fools I encounter first
With the, maximum amount of force, even if, worst comes to worst
'Cuz life's a bitch

Life's a bitch
I swear to god, you take your chances
Too many questions, and not enough answers
Life's a bitch, you take your chances
Too many questions, and not enough answers
Life's a bitch, you take your chances
Too many questions, and not enough answers
Life's a bitch, you take your chances
Too many questions, and not enough answers

My total first, nineteen seventy six
Welcome to the world I did nine months for this shit?
Moms and pops couldn't get along, older brothers gettin' grown
Now I got nothin' but this dice I'm sittin' on
At night I'm closin' my eyes, and thinkin' about my folks that died
Tryin' to sleep on 'em, thinkin' I ain't supposed to cry
Uncle Paul he just died from too much alcohol
And all he wanted was a fifth and pack of Paul mall

And Momma's heart gettin' bad, grew up on hormones
I'm tryin' cut down on drinkin' but that's a lost cause
Guess we don't learn our lesson until we all fall
These racist cops got niggaz writin' they own laws
Please god, don't let 'em take us
Just tell momma I meant well, in time don't let me wake up
"Please God, don't let them folks take us!"
Sincerely, I meant well, in time don't let me wake up

Life's a bitch
I swear to god, you take your chances
Too many questions, and not enough answers
Life's a bitch, you take your chances
Too many questions, and not enough answers
Life's a bitch, you take your chances
Too many questions, and not enough answers
Life's a bitch, you take your chances
Too many questions, and not enough answers

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43bb33e96a0b5e75a5e112435b86782a

Lord Have Mercy - Lyrics - Bred 2 Die Born 2 Live - Lil Scrappy

Title: Lord Have Mercy
Album: Bred 2 Die Born 2 Live
Artist: Lil Scrappy
Composer(s): Jules Bass, Luis Resto, Curtis Jackson, Marshall Mathers, Darryl Richardson

Lyric:
Dear Lord, I hope You look deep into my heart
And know that I mean good
And You can forgive me for all my sins

G's up it's a G thang
Y'all motherfuckers know me mayne
G's up it's a G thang near me

Lord have mercy on me, heard nigga say there's a heaven for a G
If there is please save a spot for me, I don't want to burn
I hit a nigga up before a nigga hit me, ridin' around with my strap on me
Just in case a nigga wanna fucking clap me, I don't wanna burn, no no

Dear Lord, it's a letter to You
A young nigga hurtin' and I don't know what to do
I try to live life right but these cowards be hatin'
It's like every where I go I run into the same

I'm on this earth with my blessings and my curse
Just thinking how we live threw riddin' the hearse
Even though You know me ever since I was birth
I'm innocent till You judge me and that comes first

And I ain't tryin' to burn Lord 'cause that's the worst
Forgive me for backsliding, I only rob for the thirst
I knew it was wrong that I was snatching her purse
But it was cold outside I couldn't afford a shirt

Yeah, I wanna go to church but I can't be faithful
I'm always doin' shows but You know that I'm great full
I churn wheat for the fruit 'cause it be tasteful
I don't know in the world how I could ever repay You

Lord have mercy on me, heard nigga say there's a heaven for a G
If there is please save a spot for me, I don't want to burn
I hit a nigga up before a nigga hit me, ridin' around with my strap on me
Just in case a nigga wanna fucking clap me, I don't wanna burn, no no

Aye Chris, can you sit your ass down my nigga?
Damn a man can't even write to God

Dear Lord, I thank You for lookin' out for my fam
Havin' my lil' brother who don't give a damn
You see my lil' sista done got pregnant
And my momma actin' crazy and ain't changin'

And I pray that You keep my pops preachin'
'Cause if he ain't around there's no body teachin'
And please keep my baby momma from being a bitch
Excuse my language Lord but it's always friction

I wanna thank You for blessing me with my little girl
But please give me the power to fight the whole world
'Cause I swear on You if they touch my kid
I'ma be sitting down writing You again

Lord have mercy on me, heard nigga say there's a heaven for a G
If there is please save a spot for me, I don't want to burn
I hit a nigga up before a nigga hit me, ridin' around with my strap on me
Just in case a nigga wanna fucking clap me, I don't wanna burn, no no

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342d8c9fb1241d4b410338e57b38074c

Southwest Voodoo - Lyrics - The Great Milenko - Insane Clown Posse

Title: Southwest Voodoo
Album: The Great Milenko
Artist: Insane Clown Posse
Composer(s): Joseph Bruce, Mike E. Clark, Jason Hunter, Insane Clown Posse Joseph Utsler

Lyric:
Holy shit, suck on my cock, ah!
Voodoo, runnin' from my magic

Burn your shirt, Shooga-booga ba
Southwest Voodoo's in the haugh
Wicked voodoo, doped up killa
Magic, dark magic, yo

Met this kid named Louie Lou
He thought he could fuck with this voodoo
So I turned his head into a lima bean
And then flicked it off his shoulders, ping

From Mookan House to Shangra La
Egyptian Pharohs, kumpa-ta
Follow me and join us as we pray
To the seventeen moons of Kunga Delray

Walked in the lunchroom chantin' spells
With bamboo bitches and voodoo bells
Got my own food, who wants some?
I got possum nipples and raccoon tongue

A non-believer once started to laugh
So I launched a fireball up his punk-ass
Then everybody heard him squeal
"This voodoo shit's for real!", it just takes

A head from a newt, a wing from a bat
A tongue from a snake, a tail from a rat
A neck from a chicken, an eye from a crow
And a little bitty-little itty drip of faygo

Burn your shirt, Shooga-booga ba
Southwest Voodoo's in the haugh
Wicked voodoo, doped up killa
Magic, dark magic, yo

Burn your shirt, Shooga-booga ba
Southwest Voodoo's in the haugh
Wicked voodoo, doped up killa
Magic, dark magic, yo

Gripped out fauna on a windy night
Ya see voodoo scribblins in the moonlight
Painted all on the city streets
It's the ancient craft of gang-bangin'

Hey! J! What's in the bag?
A shrunken head and shrivled scrotum sac!
Why? Ya think voodoo's fake?
Come to the graveyard, I'll make the dead wake

Raise, raise, shooga-boom ba
Sleep no longer, raise, quick!
Raise, raise, shooga-boom ba,
"Leave us alone, you fuckin' punk bitch!"

Well, fuck it, I ain't that good yet
But one day you can bet I'm a freak!
We'll make the whole world dance with the dead
And just like my homey said, it only takes

A head from a newt, a wing from a bat
A tongue from a snake, a tail from a rat
A neck from a chicken, an eye from a crow
And a little itty-bitty little drip of faygo!

Burn your shirt, Shooga-booga ba
Southwest Voodoo's in the haugh
Wicked voodoo, doped up killa
Magic, dark magic, yo

Burn your shirt, Shooga-booga ba
Southwest Voodoo's in the haugh
Wicked voodoo, doped up killa
Magic, dark magic, yo

Voodoo, runnin' from my magic
Voodoo, runnin' from my magic
Voodoo, runnin' from my magic
I'll make a voodoo doll of ya and fling ya nuts!

A head from a newt, a wing from a bat
A tongue from a snake, a tail from a rat
A neck from a chicken, an eye from a crow
And a little itty-bitty little drip

A head from a newt, a wing from a bat
A tongue from a snake, a tail from a rat
A neck from a chicken, an eye from a crow
And a little itty-bitty little drip of faygo

Burn your shirt, Shooga-booga ba
Southwest Voodoo's in the haugh
Wicked voodoo, doped up killa
Magic, dark magic, yo

Burn your shirt, Shooga-booga ba
Southwest Voodoo's in the haugh
Wicked voodoo, doped up killa
Magic, dark magic, yo

And now, the flying Fritz brothers
Ooo
Ahh
Ohh
Uh! Ah! Ahh!

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6e4e6573690d053f2e6c5eb751da57b0

I Do This Shit - Lyrics - The Inspiration - Young Jeezy

Title: I Do This Shit
Album: The Inspiration
Artist: Young Jeezy
Composer(s): Jay Jenkins, Harvey Miller

Lyric:
Speedy, you a fool for this one, nigga
CTE nigga, you already know what it is
21 gun salute, I 22's on my coupe

The Chevy standin' so tall, I'm lookin' down on y'all
That's all I gotta tell you niggas, I do this shit
The ice shine so bright, the kush burn just right
My last time tellin' you niggas, I do this shit

26's inches, honey dew outside, watermelon inside
Boy, that's a sweet ride
She diggi'n me checkin' out my paint job
And I'm diggin' her, tryna get a blow job

And my job's hard, I keep hard work
Yeah it's hard now but it's soft works
You know off white, flacked up, just pale
China white, oil base, talkin' fish scales

S550, yeah, the brand new Benz, bought two the same color
I call 'em Siamese twins, you can't out shine me
Can't out class me, my wrist so shine but my neck so flashy

The Chevy standin' so tall, I'm lookin' down on y'all
That's all I gotta tell you niggas, I do this shit
The ice shine so bright, the kush burn just right
My last time tellin' you niggas, I do this shit

My paper standin' so tall, you know the boy gon' ball
That's all I gotta tell you niggas, I do this shit
The ice shine so bright, the kush burn just right
My last time tellin' you niggas, I do this shit

I'm with a ganga hoes, yeah papa dose
Chevy sittin' on them large pies, call it Dominoes
Or maybe Pizza Hut or even Papi Johns
They was outta Chris, so ordered none

I was like what, call me Lil John
Keep it so clear, I'm fuckin' don
I'm the shit bitch, thats right the fuckin' bomb
200 carats, now that's a fuckin' charm

And this my lucky charm and I ain't talkin' corn flakes
I know Philly niggas and they ain't sellin' cheese stakes
But if yo bread straight, you can get the whole 8
You don't acttin' right, they coming for your whole safe

The Chevy standin' so tall, I'm lookin' down on y'all
That's all I gotta tell you niggas, I do this shit
The ice shine so bright, the kush burn just right
My last time tellin' you niggas, I do this shit

My paper standin' so tall, you know the boy gon' ball
That's all I gotta tell you niggas, I do this shit
The ice shine so bright, the kush burn just right
My last time tellin' you niggas, I do this shit

The brick's rapped up and I'm strapped up
Nigga act up, get capped up
See this big toy, play if you wanna, nigga
Head over here, you just 'round the corner, nigga

I'm a heavy weight, never boxed one round
In and outta state and never lost one pound
Nigga I'm crazy straight, I flip crazy weight
Now I flip the mic and that's crazy

Trap or die, nigga, that's my favorite tune
I'm always in the kitchen, that's my favorite room
And I'm baking mines, call me Duncan Hines
Ran threw a 100 grand, call it a waste of time

The Chevy standin' so tall, I'm lookin' down on y'all
That's all I gotta tell you niggas, I do this shit
The ice shine so bright, the kush burn just right
My last time tellin' you niggas, I do this shit

My paper standin' so tall, you know the boy gon' ball
That's all I gotta tell you niggas, I do this shit
The ice shine so bright, the kush burn just right
My last time tellin' you niggas, I do this shit

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4d375cec9a54c83cb87002c92395bf4b

Violence - Lyrics - Cam'Ron

Title: Violence
Artist: Cam'Ron
Composer(s): Darrell Branch, Cameron Giles, Russell Jones

Lyric:
Fuck whoever sayin' shit
Fuck the whole system
Fuck whoever playin me
Fuck whoever listenin' to Guliani

Fuck purgery, fuck the club
Fuck the ball, fuck the bar
Fuck them, fuck security

I put a gun to your girl
That's how I fuck her
(Fuck ya)
Even Juvenile say
He don't give a fuck

(Violence)
Beyond the worst on this shit
Pump mark go first on this shit
Let's hear him talk like a dirt on this shit

Fuck ass bitch nigga pussy, ho ho
Punta Marico Clerra
(Violence)
I put a gun to your brain
Push you in front of the train
Drink Smirnoff waitin' for it wear off

Take your ear off tear your ear off
You loadless strip now you blowless
Got it strapped yeah you know this
Pop a bitch hug a bitch rob, a bitch mug a bitch

Get outta here, pop the bitch
Slug the die bitch nigga

Bitch nigga die
(Violence)
Die, bitch nigga
Bitch nigga die
(Violence)

Die, bitch nigga
Bitch nigga die
(Violence)
Die, bitch nigga
Bitch nigga die
(Violence)

Die, bitch nigga
Bitch nigga die
(Violence)
Die, bitch nigga
Bitch nigga die
(Violence)

Die, bitch nigga
Bitch nigga die
(Violence)
Die, bitch nigga
Bitch nigga die
(Violence)

You don't know me grab you I will
Fuck what you heard stabs you got killed
Kill, kill, kill, kill which triple saw
We burn bitches nipples off, blew pistols off

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1d6224cc7232e61db990aeb2af15cd43

U Wanna Be Me - Lyrics - Soundtrack Exclusives & Rarities - Nas

Title: U Wanna Be Me
Album: Soundtrack Exclusives & Rarities
Artist: Nas
Composer(s): N Jones, C Thompson, Tony Long

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

Lyric:
Uhh, ooh, baby, baby
Keep it thug and keep yo' heat
Na nah nah nah nah

Now slowly, thinkin' of all the things that oppose me
I think of kings who died and rappers out to dethrone me
For they crown they head is cut off, bodies is laid
Dead in the street, it's so fuckin' pitiful

First they love you, could be the bitch that even live with you
Mad at your riches, now she switched, turned miserable
'Cause she wanna dress like Bonnie, Robin and Crystal do
But Crystal's single, Bonnie's broke and her niggaz too

I can do bad by myself, went from rags to wealth
From Jags to Bentleys to plenty ass bitches
Can't keep they hands to they self no more
I'm like Hugh Hefner, you lesser

You just a wanna be me, you can't you fagot, you bitch
You coward, you clown, you just wanna be down
So u wanna be me, you bitch, you phony
You clone me, u wanna be me, son, I'm the one and only

But u wanna be me, you suckers, you weak
You flunkies, you fake, you couldn't come close on my worst day
But u wanna be me, I burn you and learn you a lesson
Concernin' this mic profession, turn your direction

You can't be me, not in your wildest fantasy
It's childish, should I have to resort to violence?
Pay me a half a million, I'll consult your album
And show you how to stay off my dick

That's the thing I hate the most, can't even call you a man
When you gotta call out my name to get you some fans
No talent, you need direction
You a pussy with a yeast infection

You unlucky, I'm your fuckin' C-section
Plus I'm the last real nigga alive
Toast glass, Ill Will, the label get high
Realize, how many classics I gave you
Perhaps if you think back you'll realize that I made you

U wanna be me, you can't you fagot, you bitch
You coward, you clown, you just wanna be down
So u wanna be me, you bitch, you phony
You clone me, u wanna be me, son, I'm the one and only

But u wanna be me, you suckers, you weak
You flunkies, you fake, you couldn't come close on my worst day
But u wanna be me, I burn you and learn you a lesson
Concernin' this mic profession, turn your direction

You can't be me, I'm tryin' to walk a straight line
Why they tryin' to take mine? I'm past 8 Miles of every state line
Eating, alligators and humming bird hearts
At the player's ball, Brianni suits, y'all birds watch

As real millionaire, shit'll take place
Evil as Hitler's hate-race people
This is God, son and I've come
From the God under pure peace
To represent the streets

You'll see that my plan is not to destroy your man
But to bring more to mankind and teach
Every MC, reach for your pens and papers
Lesson one be creative, what you made of junior?

'Cause soon you'll be a grown man with the mic in your hand
And understand to battle Nas, not in your plan
I'm the last real nigga alive, understand that
And you my offspring, the boss sting

A bulletproof Porsche things, hard for you to understand that
Nas the King, where my bricks, where my band at?
Play me a gangster's theme, while you entertain me
If I ain't cryin' laughin' to the lions, throw your ass in

What the fuck was you niggaz thinkin'?
Guns'll clutch if I get a inklin' that you comin' for the kingpin
But I laugh at you cowards, ha, ha, ha
Take me out, try, try, try

But u wanna be me, you can't, you fagot, you bitch
You coward, you clown, you just wanna be down
So u wanna be me, you bitch, you phony
You clone me, u wanna be me, son, I'm the one and only

But u wanna be me, you suckers, you weak
You flunkies, you fake, you couldn't come close on my worst day
But u wanna be me, I burn you and learn you a lesson
Concernin' this mic profession, turn your direction, you can't be me

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Niggas &Amp; Bitches - Lyrics - Blood In My Eye - Ja Rule

Title: Niggas &Amp; Bitches
Album: Blood In My Eye
Artist: Ja Rule
Composer(s): W. Thomas, Irving Lorenzo, Jeffrey Atkins

Lyric:
Yeah
You know how we do
Uh, uh, yo, my nigga Cad
What's hangin', nigga?
Nigga Terry, what's goin' on, nigga?
Let me talk to 'em for a minute
Yeah

Niggas! Grip the iron and keep it cocked
Bitches! Work your clit keep that pussy hot
'Cause it's all about the Benjamins
And nobody ain't doin' it like us
C'mon, what y'all want?

Niggas! Grip the iron and keep it cocked
Bitches! Work your clit keep that pussy hot
'Cause it's all about sex, money and murder
Bitches that burn ya, niggas with burners
Cocked and let go!

Fuck all, y'all motherfuckin' bitch ass niggas
I'm talkin' to whoever wanna be ridin' my dick
And you know your gon' get it as hot as I spit it
It's the Rule and nobody wanna be bothered with
If I hit 'em in every direction with four fifths
Will expend like 45's with compact discs
It's a disappointment to see niggas flip on Rule
Like they double jointed when I'm one of rap's anointed

Who else used to order it all on the dick
Like when I come through with spinners on the six
And got bitches bouncin' like Ronnie in Tricks
But some whores in this game really don't make sense
Bomb roof and via Cal's and clonin' Ems
But when bullets go through your film, we break your limbs
A horror show, yeah, picture this
'Cause I guess you can't see it, it's Murder again

Niggas! Grip the iron and keep it cocked
Bitches! Work your clit keep that pussy hot
'Cause it's all about the Benjamins
And nobody ain't doin' it like us
C'mon, what y'all want?

Niggas! Grip the iron and keep it cocked
Bitches! Work your clit keep that pussy hot
'Cause it's all about sex, money and murder
Bitches that burn ya, niggas with burners
Cocked and let go!

Rule, I fuck with bitches in Manolos
And thick Louie Vuitton logos 'cause I don't love these hoes
I'm above and beyond everything that your seein'
And I'm the only real nigga left rappin' this freakin'
If I could be one of the seasons, you'd call me summer
The way I bang the heater out the back of the Hummer
The bull just move like runners from city block to city block
Layin' down the foundation for what's really hot

Y'all niggas really not on my level
I'm like slugs when they pierce the metal, you see sparks
My voice is a brush, they hear it it's like art
And nobody can really tell the twins apart
I call one Nina, other one Santa Maria
I might roll up on your set, dump and lean ya
My bitch is cocked to bang men in Virginia
Don't make me run up on ya, put a few in ya

Niggas! Grip the iron and keep it cocked
Bitches! Work your clit keep that pussy hot
'Cause it's all about the Benjamins
And nobody ain't doin' it like us
C'mon, what y'all want?

Niggas! Grip the iron and keep it cocked
Bitches! Work your clit keep that pussy hot
'Cause it's all about sex, money and murder
Bitches that burn ya, niggas with burners
Cocked and let go!

Yeah, yeah, yo, Murder's outlaw
That guess I get a city's a broads
So I push the Porsche high and truck to court
Holla at the judge if the judge made a bad decision
I feel like the nigga that's triggerin' guns with mittens
It's hard to get done, I'm hearin' that security runs
Around 30K, if they don't get hit with an AK
And found out that the security's runnin' another way
Like with me, it's Murder, probably

If I could drop in to manslaughter get a bail and flee
'Cause my downess says bitch up, let her handle the pick up
Snow cone the country leave no market untouched
Call me drugs if this is how they pushin' us rafters
But I don't do it 'cause I need it, I do it 'cause I want more
Definition is greed, I do it 'cause I want yours
And y'all niggas is teasin', y'all don't really want war
But if you really do, you're gonna need a lot more

Niggas! Grip the iron and keep it cocked
Bitches! Work your clit keep that pussy hot
'Cause it's all about the Benjamins
And nobody ain't doin' it like us
C'mon, what y'all want?

Niggas! Grip the iron and keep it cocked
Bitches! Work your clit keep that pussy hot
'Cause it's all about sex, money and murder
Bitches that burn ya, niggas with burners
Cocked and let go!

Niggas! Grip the iron and keep it cocked
Bitches! Work your clit keep that pussy hot
'Cause it's all about the Benjamins
And nobody ain't doin' it like us
C'mon, what y'all want?

Niggas! Grip the iron and keep it cocked
Bitches! Work your clit keep that pussy hot
'Cause it's all about sex, money and murder
Bitches that burn ya, niggas with burners
Cocked and let go!

Faggots
Yeah, shout out to my nigga 01
Baby, you know what I mean? My nigga Black Child
Big Caddillac, my motherfuckin' partner, my brother
What up Gotti? You know how we gonna do these niggas
You ain't got to pick up no mic either my nigga
I got this, I got these niggas Gotti
Holla back, nigga
Yeah, uh, yo my nigga Burns in the building
Blow somethin' up, nigga

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97b7ac85a5f60409316e22a4926982ee

The War Iz On - Lyrics - Krayzie Bone

Title: The War Iz On
Artist: Krayzie Bone
Composer(s): Steven Howse, Ricardo Brown, Steve Pageot, Calvin Broadus, Anthony Henderson

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

Lyric:
We so thuggish ruggish
(The motherfucking war iz on)
You better suit up and do like Krayzie Bone
'Cause the motherfucking war iz on
What you gon' do, what you gon' do, do?

Say nigga we marching, stompin' in the big black boots
With my niggas in the fatigue suits ready to shoot
Running with the AK 47
Niggas trying to survive they ain't trying to go to heaven

Motherfuckers shooting, they ain't even asking questions
It's these young ass niggas, they straight up thugged out
They killas like that little soldier boy
'Cause we livin' in the killin' field

Tombstone soldier rest in peace a real warrior
Nigga been ready for war we are
The motherfuckers on the street with the heat
Knockin' them hoes off they feet

Say boy it's a jungle out there
Get a couple casualties every year
The goal is to stay alive
The mission is to make money

The enemy, the police
We gotta bust back at 'em make some
Motherfucking examples out them assholes
We're not even concerned strike a match drop it on the gas

And let the motherfucker burn, burn, burn, baby, burn
Army strategic and I pledge allegiance to the 12 gauge Mossberg
I'm that nigga Mr. Sawed-off Leather face got a big gun in your face
Behind that bush and when they roll by

We jump out the bush make a push
Bstin' why they runnin' buckin' everything comin' murda
Y'all ain't said nothin'
Got a couple of niggas for that

Stay strapped from the front to the back
And the extra clip off in my jacket
So when I run out I restack it and pap it some more
We ready for war

So what nigga, pull your gun
That's exactly how we play
Screaming bloody murda mo all day
The buckshots spray daily all day

Money makes murders sex lies crimes fo-fives
Nines heaters jackers killa
Cap pealers and drug dealers
Snitches snakes bitches fakes

Bad breaks and heartaches
Give and take shake and bake
Boy, I gots to stack my plate
Bad news travels fast

Real mashers always mask
Give a dog a bone send him on he bound
To come home with some cash
Get you shit stack your chips, tuck your heat watch that bitch

She might be cute but listen here
My nigga that don't mean shit
Duck and dodge camouflage
My entourage is way in charge

Krayzie Bone and Dog Capone
Yeah, you know the war is on
Break a bitch shoot a snitch
Fuck a trick get your grip

Smoke, some dank pass some drank
And get off into this gangsta shit
Laying fools down Dog Pound Bone Thugs on love
And we banging from the streets to the club

So what nigga, pull your gun
That's exactly how we play
Screaming bloody murda mo all day
The buckshots spray daily all day

Check it out
Gangstas hoes, I suppose
Dip and dash cock and blast
Kurupt and Snoop Krayzie Daz

Layzie blazing up the hash
G'd as fuck gangstafied
High as the sky gangsta for life
Fuck a bitch hit a switch

Gangstas drop that gangsta shit
I'm a G, DPG, DPGC, O.G. DP
Ride on niggas blast on niggas
Dip and put the smash in niggas

It's a war It's a war
(There's a war going on)
When the was pop off where the fuck you gon be
In the front or the back city under attack

Every nigga from the nine nine front line
Marchin' with a tech nine nigga, where my thugz at
If you scared go to church motherfucker
Matter fact while you at it say a prayer for me

I'm prepared to heat, heat a nigga in the streets
With a goddamn beat my heat lose to me
Khakis suits and fatigues
Nigga dressed to kill

Nigga, yes, I will put a slug in you
Nigga what you wanna do
Cause I'm ready to shoot
And my high tech boots got me feeling bulletproof

I'm a superman nigga GI Joe
Like the wind blowing through a niggas area
More dead enemies I count up the merrier
And you ain't heard no collaboration scarier

I'm a walkin' nightmare and I'm born to die
It's a war goin' on what's happening
If you disrespecting my family
I'll be hell to tell the captain

Fuck all you playa haters and you po-pos
Fuck all you politicians this war
Dedication to the criminal nation
Let the real thugs even the score

So what nigga, pull your gun
That's exactly how we play
Screaming bloody murda mo all day
The buckshots spray daily all day

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e6c0cfd693f2b97636de69dadd762605

Quit Hatin' The South - Lyrics - Underground Kingz - Ugk

Title: Quit Hatin' The South
Album: Underground Kingz
Artist: Ugk
Composer(s): Willie Dennis, Bernard James Freeman, Benny Latimore, Chad L Butler

Lyric:
Uh, it's really goin' down in the South bitch
Yeah nigga, we know hip hop and rap
And all that shit started in the motherfuckin' East

Know I'm sayin'? Then it went to the West coast
And they did it a little bit better
Know I'm sayin'? But now it's our time
To shine down here nigga

Know I'm sayin'? So since y'all niggaz keep sayin'
We ain't real hip hop down here
We don't wanna be down with you bitch ass niggaz

So y'all stay up there with that bullshit
This country rap tunes down here nigga
Young Pimp, Young Bun, Underground Kingz

All the O.G.'s that's recognizin' the real
I got love for y'all but all you bitch ass niggaz
Talkin' down in ya records, you can eat a dick
Hold up

Pushin' cocaine, servin' pounds of weed
Steady stayin' on the grind
Pussy nigga can't say he ain't hatin' me
Because if you did, then you wouldn't be lyin'

But how in the hell am I supposed to respect the man?
That talk down on every song
You steady actin' like a bitch, you steady cryin' your eyes out
Say my name pussy nigga, we can get the shit on, on, ooh yeah

Quit hatin' the South, baby
We gettin' paper in the South, gettin' money
Quit hatin' the South, baby
Quit hatin' the South

Well, it's been a long time my nigga, I shouldn't have left you
When I some real trill shit to go left to
Gotta lot of respect fool, for the ones before me
But when my time came they act like they ain't know me

I've been down with rap music since Cold Crush and Melle
Before MTV put Run-D.M.C. on the tele
Back when Whodini tried to tell ya about ya friends
Nigga I was givin' rap all my time and my ends

Bought damn near every record the motherfucker dropped
West coast gangsta music, East coast hip hop
Now it's our time to shine and the tables is turned
Them motherfuckers aggravated 'cause we gettin' some burn

There's no room for everybody, just a few niggaz is swole
Probably 'cause they favorite rappers ain't in control
But just let go of the past 'cause it's hurtin' your hands
And pass it over to the next generation of fans

And quit hatin' the South, baby
We gettin' paper in the South, getting' money
Quit hatin' the South, baby
Quit hatin' the South

I'm blastin' off on you hoes like NASA
You double standards and hypocrisy remind me of Massa
We ain't good enough to eat at ya table but when ya dick get hard
You wanna run up with [Incomprehensible]

I from the get coke but I'm still clockin' figures
Bitch hoe cock suckin' nigga
And that goes for all you visitors too
If you don't like it down here, get the fuck on fool

They say you can't rap and they questionin' our intellect
Friendly ass niggaz jumpin' bad on the Internet
Ain't nobody typin' that much can't be a danger
Catch you in person, bitch I'll break yo' fingers

It's some trash in the South but I promise you
From the East to the West, some of y'all garbage too
As long as the beat knock and the lyrics hot, son
I can give a rat's ass where a rap is from

I remember N.W.A. and PE
Had me feelin' like a rapper was the thing to be
You can't fuck with Willie D, UGK either
Disrespectin' the code, does motherfuckers neither

Quit hatin' the South, baby
We gettin' paper in the South, gettin' money

To all the radio, TV and even the press
Been hatin' on the Sizz-outh like we ain't impress
Y'all think we came in the place, say man we came in the state
Y'all shoulda listened to Andre, bitch we got somethin' to say

And all you washed up rappers, you ain't what it's about
I see y'all tryin' rap like us and puttin' grills in ya mouth
Y'all buy the beat, buy the beat like y'all bouncin' and twerkin'
But hoe we know what's goin' on and bitch that bullshit ain't workin'

I'ma O.G. Rock Ball, write my name up on the wall
Fuck yo' bitch and hit the switch and put my dick up in her jaw
I'm Sweet Jones, fucked a clone, legend on the microphone
Player's choice, silver Royce, keep yo' bitch's pussy moist

I'm bumped the school, that's how I do, sippin' drank, each teen night
In Benz, big blue lens, knock this bitch and fuck with her friend
Candy cart, squeeze 'em out, bought the ranch man fuck the house
And y'all still gotta buy y'all dope from us
So what the fuck you bitch niggaz talkin' 'bout?

All you ole sensitive ass niggaz, know I'm talkin' 'bout?
Y'all niggaz on y'all period up there bitch
Know I'm talkin' 'bout? Y'all hide behind them e-mail addresses
Sendin' that bullshit through the air

Bitch, say my name bitch, I'ma come to ya house
Fuck how you feel, country rap tunes nigga
They put all y'all records on one side of the store
And put all the country rap music on the other side of the store
And see who sell out first

Bitch ass nigga, it's ya own fault ya shit ain't sellin'
You reap what you sew and fuck you in ya pussy
Keep talkin' that shit
Them young gladiators go come get you too partner

Already, UGK for life, fuck how you feel about it bitch
Young Pimp

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