C'Mon All My Niggaz, C'Mon All My Bitches - Lyrics - Busta Rhymes

Title: C'Mon All My Niggaz, C'Mon All My Bitches
Artist: Busta Rhymes
Composer(s): G Spivey, T Smith

Lyric:
Yo, all my niggas in the place, what now?
Talk to my bitches all up in the place
See my niggas, they be laying all up in the cut now
Anyhow, I'ma doing my thing and blow the spot, baby
Maybe bust a little nut now
Funny how the older bitches get familiar
And try to give a nigga just a little butt now
Sing along
(Smoke now, nigga get high)

And get all in this money, nigga
(Before we die)
Bitches let me know that you up in the spot
(Whoop whoop wooo)
All of my niggas just shout it at me
(Yeah, yo)
Even though it's kind of ill, nigga follow the flow
Nigga wanna know where we shine, try'na ball and glow
Watch for the sound round when I swallow the dough

I'ma do it to ya like I never did it before
Now let me give it to you
(Flipmode Squad, baby)
Now what the fuck y'all niggas wanna know about the
(God baby)
Ha, then I jump right out of the whip and I park it
My pinky gleam like a motha fuckin' third of the Antarctic
Everybody get wild in the spot, all my niggas just pile in the spot
It's such a shame, somebody might just lose they child in the sky

C'mon all my niggas, c'mon
(What?)
My niggas that be reppin' with me
(What?)
My niggas that be holding me down
(Ha hooo)
And high steppin' with me
(What?)

C'mon all my bitches, c'mon
(What?)
My bitches that be reppin' with me
(What?)
My bitches that be holding me down
(Whoop whoop woo)
And high steppin' with

Now tell me what you niggas really wanna do
C'mon now
(Excuse me)
We coming through
C'mon now, hit you with the brand new when I'm bumping
You don't need to ask who
Nigga please
(C'mon now)

Where the trees?
(C'mon now)
Shit, when I'm bouncing and hit you with the flow
Then I make you just act a fool
One, two
(One, two)
Wild like another mad nigga to be ready to back it too
Here we go
(Here we go)

A lot of motha fuckas they ain't even got a clue
C'mon now, let me school y'all niggas permanently
Like a motha fuckin' tattoo, c'mon now
Hey
(Hey)
Hey
(Hey)
You know you shouldn't
(Try it)

My nigga
Before we do shit to
(Start up a riot)
Every time we come through
All the bitches shout
(Whoop whoop woo)
All of my niggas shine if you ready
(Yeah, yeah)

Let me blow for a few
Nigga c'mon, bounce in the street
With the heat stashed under the seat
In a range that's blue, nigga
(C'mon)
Cats like you be searching the crib
All the weakling niggas in your crew nigga
(C'mon)

Every time a nigga come step in the spot
Y'all niggas know we come to blow the venue nigga
(C'mon)
But wait, guess what
(Guess what)
Flipmode to the rescue nigga
(C'mon)
Y'all
(Y'all)

Know
(Know)
When we put it down
Niggas really wanna blow this shit
(Shit)
It's
(It's)

Like I got a grenade in my hand
And you know I wanna throw this shit
(Yo)
Everybody get stuck in the spot
You don't really give a fuck in the spot
Better watch your whip
Because they might just tow your truck from the spot

C'mon all my niggas, c'mon
(What?)
My niggas that be reppin' with me
(What?)
My niggas that be holding me down
(Ha hooo)
And high steppin' with me
(What?)

C'mon all my bitches, c'mon
(What?)
My bitches that be reppin' with me
(What?)
My bitches that be holding me down
(Whoop whoop woo)
And high steppin' with me

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7fabdc592cb08f152466958bbd8e811b

Let'S Ride - Lyrics - Venni Vetti Vecci - Ja Rule

Title: Let'S Ride
Album: Venni Vetti Vecci
Artist: Ja Rule
Composer(s): Robert Mays, Jeffrey Atkins, Irv Gotti

Lyric:
Fuckin' clown ass motherfuckas, man
Who they think they fuckin' with?
These niggas must be out of their fuckin' minds or somethin'
So, what you wanna do?

Where my bitches down to freak wit me?
(C'mon let's ride)
How many niggaz down to roll wit me?
(C'mon let's ride)
Where my bitches that would lie for me?
(C'mon let's ride)
How many niggaz that would die for me
Die for me, die for me

Where the fuck my thugs at?
Ready or not nigga ain't no turnin' back
Where the fuck my hoes at
Who I pimp hard when they wanna get to a tap
But you know you can do that love
I'm just hear to fuck you know that, love
What you want, baby roll it or what while you think about
Twist me a douche, you holdin' me up

How many bitches wanna ride wit me
Or cum through wit the top down like ?
Where my bitches at? Hop in make it fast don't slow me down
Where the fuck my killers at, end of the light
Weight now pop a gun wit them now
Niggas don't want it now, bet you motherfuckas foldin' now
Where the fuck them clowns at
Kickin' the dough for the pussy by the hour

Where the fuck them whores at, get your dough, mama
I'm ride till the end of the road, baby
This life gonna drive me crazy
Been gettin' high lately
Wonderin' where the Lord gonna take me
Where the fuck my gangstaz at?
Cool never sweat under the gun
Where the fuck my mistress at?

At cock back ready to pop something
Since you niggaz all about frontin'
Let's see when and how you really want it
Y'all don't want my thugs to get up on it
Leave it alone but, we bought our liquor, now

Where my bitches down to freak wit me?
(C'mon let's ride)
How many niggaz down to roll wit me?
(C'mon let's ride)
Where my bitches that would lie for me?
(C'mon let's ride)
How many niggaz that would die for me
Die for me, die for me

Where my bitches down to freak wit me?
(C'mon let's ride)
How many niggaz down to roll wit me?
(C'mon let's ride)
Where my bitches that would lie for me?
(C'mon let's ride)
How many niggaz that would die for me
Die for me, die for me

Bitch niggaz, better smarten up
Before I bring out the toast and touch you up
Fuckin' wit Ja, you know you got a lot of luck
But nowadays you ain't gettin' out as much
What the fuck iz up baby boy you scared or what
I swiss nothin' but the hot shit
So, I hear you wanna pop shit, you don't know who you
Fuckin' wit, let me show why life's a bitch

I went through drug money, hustlin' every day just to get a taste
Through gun or blood money, killin' niggaz back then for a small face
Got in the hot money, whats yours was mine in every case
Now it's play money, spit the raw and if more get chased
Holla out my niggaz, be the word of mouth
My bitches bang head like the dirty south nigga bounce
Row my niggaz, ride my bitches if you ain't heard nigga ride out wit us
Where the fuck all my murderers, hit up wit the heat, nigga just because
Got the whole world wonderin what the motive was, let's ride

Where my bitches down to freak wit me?
(C'mon let's ride)
How many niggaz down to roll wit me?
(C'mon let's ride)
Where my bitches that would lie for me?
(C'mon let's ride)
How many niggaz that would die for me
Die for me, die for me

The Lord is callin' me recently but ain't got time to speak
Lord what you want with me, hope it ain't my time for the grim to reap
Niggaz be killin me, turn around, look them mud eye gun' em down
That's how I hit' em in it, cool 'em off, what the fuck is you hollin' bout
Niggaz be runnin' wild paid to strip, let'em have till the sun hit
Will never calm down deal wit it, a lot of niggaz get killed for this
Especially my niggaz, rest in peace to my dogs who I love to death
For when I die niggaz, heaven and hell
I've been down wit some of the best, yeah, niggaz

Where my bitches down to freak wit me?
(C'mon let's ride)
How many niggaz down to roll wit me?
(C'mon let's ride)
Where my bitches that would lie for me?
(C'mon let's ride)
How many niggaz that would die for me
Die for me, die for me

Where my bitches down to freak wit me?
(C'mon let's ride)
How many niggaz down to roll wit me?
(C'mon let's ride)
Where my bitches that would lie for me?
(C'mon let's ride)
How many niggaz that would die for me
Die for me, die for me

C'mon let's ride, c'mon let's ride, c'mon let's ride
C'mon let's ride, c'mon let's ride, c'mon let's ride

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1597f0024ed463dd19d3cf3045a5de21

Make It Hurt - Lyrics - Genesis - Busta Rhymes

Title: Make It Hurt
Album: Genesis
Artist: Busta Rhymes
Composer(s): Trevor Smith, James Dewitt Yancey

Lyric:
We gonna change things
Yea, Genesis niggaz
We gotta introduce you all
To the motherfuckin' new millenium bounce
Yea, two thousand and one hot shit, hot shit c'mon
All my niggaz in the place, all my bitches in the place
C'mon, c'mon, let's get to it
Let's get to it, let's get to it
All my niggaz and my bitches let's get to it
New milleni nigga bounce, new millenium bounce
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon

Aiyyo! It's colder than a motherfucker
Who just let the hawk in?
Nigga guess who just walked in?
Lynch, most mix them up makes them
Other niggaz sit upon the bench broke
Then I step up in a trenchcoat nigga
Got no time to be fuckin' with them wonderama niggaz
Let me loosen up your bra-strap mama nigga
Listen up! look how we be rippin' up
And got the party pickin' up
And got you niggaz spittin' up shit

No pain, nigga never no gain, nigga no strain
O D into my cocaine music
Spit that venom, pretty thick bitches walk by
If you let them pussy printin' through they denim
Take her for a ride around the block, let her enjoy the whip
Drop her off, let her walk the strip
Ain't it funny how nature work?
Make bitches wanna bounce on a nigga
Until they make it hurt
C'mon

Shake yo' shit until you make it hurt
Throw yo' pussy 'til you make it hurt
Pop that shit until you make it hurt
Bounce 'til you really wanna make it hurt
Now bang yo' head until you make it hurt
C'mon, stomp yo' feet until we make it hurt
Pound that shit until we make it hurt
Until we make it hurt, now let's make it hurt

Are we ever gonna stop nigga? Heck no
Shit now let me rip the motherfucker
From the get-go, nigga
Let go before you make a nigga
Wanna let the tec blow
Bitches dancin' like a stepshow, nigga
Violate nigga, you gets no love, ghetto
Only give a nigga show love ditto
Your clique too little, fuck givin' niggaz a riddle
Fuck around I turn your wife into a widow

Nitro nigga, make you wanna wild on the floor
Like a bunch of little psycho niggaz
Presto, shit we got a expo of bitches in here
Whylin' like a bunch of lesbo bitches
The best show of bitches, so electro bitches, c'mon
Get on your mark, get ready set go bitches
Then we go and add a little propane to it
Then we send another whole flame through it

Clear everything in my path, before I split you in half
You wack nigga, better get you a staff
The freak bitches try to hit me with math
Brushin' off wack niggaz
While them same bitches givin' me ass, yo
Now let me give you more hot shit, just for the record
And make bitches wanna get ass-naked, c'mon
Party until you wanna lash out
Better yet, you all niggaz party
Until you motherfuckin' pass out

Shake yo' shit until you make it hurt
Throw yo' pussy 'til you make it hurt
Pop that shit until you make it hurt
Bounce 'til you really wanna make it hurt
Now bang yo' head until you make it hurt
C'mon, stomp yo' feet until we make it hurt
Pound that shit until we make it hurt
Until we make it hurt, now let's make it hurt

C'mon! throw your hands up high you all
Light yo' l, get high you all
Shit you can't deny you all
Don't lie you all, don't try you all
All my niggaz inside you all
C'mon, let's start that shit you all
C'mon, and you know we won't quit
Then bang niggaz with hit after hit you all, c'mon

In the meantime nigga just pass me the Henny, c'mon
Little Cris' and a bottle of the Remi
Write a bit and still sortin' it out
Flipmode up in this motherfucker nigga
What're you talkin' about?
Hold up, a lot of people ain't compatible nigga
They be buggin on how a nigga spend capital nigga
Ain't it funny how nature work?
Hot shit'll make them bounce
Until she really wanna make it hurt
C'mon

Shake yo' shit until you make it hurt
Throw yo' pussy 'til you make it hurt
Pop that shit until you make it hurt
Bounce 'til you really wanna make it hurt
Now bang yo' head until you make it hurt
C'mon, stomp yo' feet until we make it hurt
Pound that shit until we make it hurt
Until we make it hurt, now let's make it hurt

Shake your shit until you make it hurt
Throw your pussy until you make it hurt
Pop that shit until you make it hurt
Bounce until you really wanna make it hurt
Now bang your head until you make it hurt
C'mon, stomp your feet until we make it hurt
Pound that shit until we make it hurt
Until we make it hurt, now let's make it hurt

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66403b9fb2687333813e87878d137198

What'S My Name - Lyrics - R.U.L.E. - Ja Rule

Title: What'S My Name
Album: R.U.L.E.
Artist: Ja Rule
Composer(s): I Lorenzo, Kendred Smith, Jeffrey Atkins, B Casey, Bob James, P Alexander

Lyric:
Yeah, yeah woo, we here, geah
C'mon, we ain't goin' nowhere, c'mon
Remix, c'mon
Now, this is Jimmy Cliff Notes
I'ma run through the roster man
Let 'em know, on Murder INC
Startin' with Ashanti

J-A-R-U-L-E, what, let 'em know
Who else you thought it would be
All my bitches with me say
J-A-R-U-L-E, what's my name, nigga?
Who'da thought this wouldn't be
Everybody with me say

Holla, I'm back, anyone with good sense bet on that
'Cause I ain't never went nowhere, I still got business here
All my bitches get your hands in the air
Now back that ass, upon me, now let's roll, go, goin', gone, sold

What's cooler than bein' cool? Y'all know
That I do this for all my niggaz and my bitches
And it's murder 'til day that I die, can't spit it no more
All my niggaz that tusslin', get yours
All my bitches that's makin' money, get yours
The world ain't only mine, it's yours
And I'm sure that, there's no love if you don't go through pain
And I'm the nigga that done changed the game, what's my name?

J-A-R-U-L-E
Who else you thought it would be
All my bitches with me say
J-A-R-U-L-E
Who'da thought this wouldn't be
Everybody with me say

Who's that nigga?
If you feelin' yourself youse that nigga tryin' to get hit up
Buried in cat litter 'cause that's how INC get up
Makin' sure they don't get up, it's murder
Who's that bitch?
If you feelin' yourself youse that bitch, tryin' to get rich
Dyin' to get hitched to a nigga that's caked up
Willin' to spend time and even more at Jacob

But you assume position, face down, ass up
And I think I got you in that same pose pinned up
In a picture painted frame been hangin' love
Ass naked, lookin' like you're high on drugs
And that's whassup, what, all bitch niggaz is gettin' touched
And no bad bitches is gettin' fucked
'Cause you know who, did you know what, if you know what's
Then you know it's not a game, what's my name?

J-A-R-U-L-E
Who else you thought it would be
All my bitches with me say
J-A-R-U-L-E
Who'da thought this wouldn't be
Everybody with me say

Baby girl, is you with me? Shit, yes sir
Sayin' all of that without speakin' a word
I like to do this that and a third
And I love the way you put in reverse
And now clap for me mami, clap back, keep it swervin'
Wide body had to be built by suburban
Niggaz around lookin' like they nervous, I see 'em
Niggaz around me wanna rob him and leave him

But I'm partyin' tonight for one reason
Niggaz know that the bullshit was dead on the streets
Niggaz I'm gettin' high, gettin' 'head as we speak
Long live the great ones, B.I.G, P.A.C.
I'm "Ready to Die," "All Eyez on Me"
And niggaz know they can do it the same
But still they try to diss, that's part of the game
What's my name?

J-A-R-U-L-E
Who else you thought it would be
All my bitches with me say
J-A-R-U-L-E, what's my name?
Who'da thought this wouldn't be
Everybody with me say

Yeah, yeah
Murder INC, all my family we here
Big shout to all my niggaz
All my crud niggaz, all my street niggaz, all my grime niggaz
All my industry niggaz, all my corporate niggaz
It's love, it's pain, and we together man
Holla back at me

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2f75d95a8982783f4ce9969659b8f6c9

We Got What You Want - Lyrics - Genesis - Busta Rhymes

Title: We Got What You Want
Album: Genesis
Artist: Busta Rhymes
Composer(s): J Smith, Trevor Smith

Lyric:
Yeah, I though all y'all was goin'
Uh, yeah, yeah, yeah
We're gonna take y'all on a little ride and shit
You mean now, now, now, yeah

We gonna sail in one of them
Big fat ocean liners on the street
Swim through this mutha fucka
Busta-Bus now, now, now

Hop scotch I found a new bounce
Just rock back and fourth while my beat knock
Stop chips and cock glocks wit' clips
Go sailing in hot ships and park big whips

Getting' them whips and bounce outta town
Take trips ride slow through them hoods and park at the main strip
Baby, girl, gimme yo hand cock fast
With a number in your hand, hot ass

Shorty actin' just like she had a hit on me
Fuckin' while shorty's busy shakin' her shit on me
Man, stop, just let ?em flop
Watch girlfriend let alone cock block

Hot shit make a bitch wanna whine just like a reggae tune
Make y'all niggaz wanna act and bust the AK
Everyday create a may lay today is pay day
Mutha fucka you better make way

Live your life, go get your money
Get that dough, bounce if ya want
And light that blunt, smoke if you got to
Shake yo shit, bounce if you have to

Flimode squad back in the spot
With all yo shit bounce in the truck
Yes, yes, y'all bounce, we go what ya want
All my niggaz, all my niggaz
All my bitches, c'mon

We stay spittin' on, see what we sittin' on
Shittin' you see how my twenty inch be fittin' on nigga
A hundred dollar bill shorty, number was written on
Hittin' shorty on the sink wit' the lights in the kitchen on

C'mon, move quiet with all the DL chicks
Who carry on Lincoln head up on my CL 6
Hit y'all wit' the shit split y'all
Chicks all on my whip hoping ya ass fit y'all

We suppose to reach most shit bang
Watch how niggaz bounce in East Coast
Choke, y'all, provoke, y'all
Killin' street everytime we distribute the coke all

Check it, see now a days we caught cribs
And caught big fat loss fuck big fat bitches
That make cliques back off the way we prove it to y'all
Is just bang niggaz every time we do it to y'all

Live your life, go get your money
Get that dough, bounce if ya want
And light that blunt, smoke if you got to
Shake yo shit, bounce if you have to

Flimode squad back in the spot
With all yo shit bounce in the truck with
Yes, yes, y'all bounce, we go what ya want
All my niggaz, all my niggaz
All my bitches, c'mon

Yeah, straight black out shit fo show
Making you back yo mack out quick Aiyo
Yeah, we floss and drop pricy things
Talk slick and money and rock icy things

She tried to get that score
By throwing the pussy begging me to hit that raw
We puts it on and watch bitches getting' a getsy
Flimode up in this mutha fucka just for the record

Live your life, go get your money
Get that dough, bounce if ya want
And light that blunt, smoke if you got to
Shake yo shit, bounce if you have to

Flimode squad back in the spot
With all yo shit bounce in the truck with
Yes, yes, y'all bounce, we go what ya want
All my niggaz, all my niggaz
All my bitches, c'mon

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ee1e7d0da228b310c36e9ebd2bff5996

Bladow!! - Lyrics - Total Devestation: The Best Of Busta Rhymes - Busta Rhymes

Title: Bladow!!
Album: Total Devestation: The Best Of Busta Rhymes
Artist: Busta Rhymes
Composer(s): Trevor Smith Scott Storch

Lyric:
Huh, yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Hah, uhh, uhh, uhh
What, some more some more
Some more, some more, niggaz didn't want no more

Now, ready for whylin' my niggaz
Let's set it like we on the Island my niggaz, I'm with it
Yo, my clique startle bitches
With a remarkable sparkle for my bitches with me
You know we stay dumb
And keep shop runnin' just the like a 24-hour deli
The way y'all niggaz be poppin' that shit you be talkin'
Y'all niggaz don't be nothin but a 24-hour celly

To talk that funny shit to someone you know
While I bag these bitches and take them to 24-hour tellys
Type of chickens to let me get in they belly
Little sexy thug bitches who want me to fuck them to Makeveli
Then get with my niggaz and smoke up a ounce
Crowd up in whatever amounts, makin' bitches skip to my bounce
So forever we be shinin' like diamond
Fresher than the fragrance of limon when we strike it's all in the timin'

Corporate niggaz bug on how we be stylin'
Fuckin' with huge contracts with wife-beaters on
On the day of the signin'
Makin' all my bitches check for this shit
My live niggaz know the truth
That's why they always got respect for this shit

Bust one for me, Bladow!!
All my niggaz holdin' they guns with me, Bladow!!
And restin' and stackin' they ones with me, Bladow!!
My peeps who hang around where I'm from with me, Bladow!!
Who run with me, Bladow!!
Bust one for me, Bladow!!

My bitches that'll fuck 'til they cum with me, Bladow!!
Whylin' they be havin' they fun with me, Bladow!!
In the struggle they be beatin' they drums with me, Bladow!!
In the slums with me, Bladow!!
Bust one for me, Bladow!!

And now we mash y'all, harass y'all
Until the shit we doin' pass y'all
You know we steadily readily give it to niggaz
And blow up the spot for niggaz before we do the dash y'all
Ain't nuttin' wrong 'til we perform
Y'all niggaz know we bout to blast y'all
Fast me and my niggaz crash the party
Hit my niggaz with shit and splash bitches before we flash y'all

Now whassup? All of my niggaz salute
When we get busy give me my loot, or lay up in a box with a suit
Shit that I tell you will all be the truth
Stay on a live nigga recruit, and take y'all niggaz back to the root
I tyin' my laces all up in my boot
All the bitches say that I'm cute, blowin' on it just like a flute
Now now now, before we blind y'all we shine and remind y'all
Shit we got be always one of a kind y'all

We constructin' a new design y'all
Better keep up my niggaz because you will get left behind y'all
Let us bust a bottle of wine now
And celebrate in the name of them niggaz that control the times now
Now watch it, as we just pick up the pace
You just might a hole in your face
My crew might take a whole of the space
Completely, obligated just to keepin' you dumbin'

And get to breakin' all the shit up in club once you know that we comin'
My bitches check for this shit
My live niggaz know the truth
That's why they always got respect for this shit

Bust one for me, Bladow!!
All my niggaz holdin' they guns with me, Bladow!!
And restin' and stackin' they ones with me, Bladow!!
My peeps who hang around where I'm from with me, Bladow!!
Who run with me, Bladow!!
Bust one for me, Bladow!!

My bitches that'll fuck 'til they come with me, Bladow!!
Whylin' they be havin' they fun with me, Bladow!!
In the struggle they be beatin' they drums with me, Bladow!!
In the slums with me, Bladow!!
Bust one for me, Bladow!!

Yeah
To all my niggaz and all my bitches that just wanna live
Live good, feel good, yeah
Just bounce to this shit, c'mon, bounce to this shit
All my niggaz and my bitches just bounce to this shit
C'mon, bounce to this shit
Yeah, Flipmode constantly
Enough of that

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b13d53d3384585cce0d5a09a8c8f0a59

Smokin' - Lyrics - Stillmatic - Nas

Title: Smokin'
Album: Stillmatic
Artist: Nas
Composer(s): Nasir Jones, Larry Gates

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Lyric:
Bis-Mi-Allah a-Rahman a-Rahim
To the Gods, to the Gods, to the earths
Pass that shit homey

Now tell me what y'all smokin', what kinda heat y'all holdin'
Well is your creep move potent
I got a bunch of bullets and a bag of guns
I pass 'em to my niggaz c'mon

We bi-coastin', keepin' our po-ckets bulgin'
We got the plan in motion
I got a bunch of bullets and a bag of guns
I pass 'em to my niggaz c'mon

Zoom, from outer space he comes
Blunt in his mouth with his hand on his gun
Bitches flappin' they gums, do he be clappin' and shootin' guys
Actor or a movie star, rapper revolutionized

What is his race nation or creed?
Is he Arabic, Black, Latin, Asian they read
Magazines say I walked on water, talked to the heavens
Spit at judges, stepped on peasants

But in reality, I just entered your galaxy
September '73, up in these wild streets
Fuckin' these wild freaks, a harem of hoes
And my mystique got 'em tearin' my clothes

Now tell me what y'all smokin', what kinda heat y'all holdin'
Well is your creep move potent
I got a bunch of bullets and a bag of guns
I pass 'em to my niggaz c'mon

We bi-coastin', keepin' our po-ckets bulgin'
We got the plan in motion
I got a bunch of bullets and a bag of guns
I pass 'em to my niggaz c'mon

My nigga smoke with one lung
If he cough he might die, passin' me trees
The liquor bottle's almost empty
We about to collide, with the enemy

Only way you die if it's meant to be, you fuckin' with a general
No discussion is the principle, we bustin' it's the end of you
Now we knockin' on your mama door
Like we cam to fix the sink, my kind of war

Death, angels comin' for you
Spirit horse runnin' from your body like young guns 1 and 2
Paramedics fightin' for you, who's gon' win?
The hands of time, or the hands of medicine

Don't cry, witness your fate, this is your wake
Walk by your casket, spit in your face
Enter the fog dog, the light is your guide
And when you're gone all your niggaz gon' light it with Nas

Now tell me what y'all smokin', what kinda heat y'all holdin
Well is your creep move potent
I got a bunch of bullets and a bag of guns
I pass 'em to my niggaz c'mon

We bi-coastin', keepin' our po-ckets bulgin'
We got the plan in motion
I got a bunch of bullets and a bag of guns
I pass 'em to my niggaz c'mon

Pardon but I gotta question of life now
Look at the nigga next to you right now
Is he real, fake or scared
Do it like this niggaz right hands in the air

Ball it to a fist and put it over your heart
Now let's say it all together let the ceremony start
I shall, stay real stay true stay holdin' figures
Never put a bitch over my niggaz

I shall never, cooperate with the law
Never snake me I always hold you down in war
If they take one of mine, I take one of theirs
I never break the oath to the death I swear

I swear that's how we pledge allegiance, to the alliance
Of underworld's killers and thugs, though the science
Of a nigga still yet to be found, so light up some green
And pass it around, just pass it around

Now tell me what y'all smokin', what kinda heat y'all holdin'
Well is your creep move potent
I got a bunch of bullets and a bag of guns
I pass 'em to my niggaz c'mon

We bi-coastin', keepin' our po-ckets bulgin'
We got the plan in motion
I got a bunch of bullets and a bag of guns
I pass 'em to my niggaz c'mon

Wanna get high, come smoke with me, smoke with me, light it up
Wanna get high, come smoke with me, smoke with me, light it up
Wanna get high, come smoke with me, smoke with me, light it up
Wanna get high, come smoke with me, smoke with me, light it up

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d17b96bbadcbd87965fa9bd7cf7c3866

Fuck Friendz - Lyrics - Until The End Of Time - 2pac

Title: Fuck Friendz
Album: Until The End Of Time
Artist: 2pac
Composer(s): Tupac Amaru Shakur, Sean Young, Quincy Delight Jones Iii

Lyric:
My ghetto love song, hahaha, let's be friends
(Where my niggaz at? Where my niggaz where my bitches?
Where my niggaz at? Where my bitches at?
Throw your hands in the air
Everybody just throw your hands in the air)
Let's be friends
(Wessyde in this motherfucker right here, Wessyde)

Approach you and post a minute, arm on my double R tinted
As you pass bye wink in my eye, freshly scented
What's the haps baby? (Whassup?) Come get with me and perhaps lady
You can help me multiply my stacks baby
Currency seems small I need companionship (hey)
Through with that, scandalous shit, I bet your man ain't shit
So why you hesitatin actin like yo' shit don't stink
Check out my, diamonds bitch everyone gonna blink (bling bling bling)
This be a thug thang, Outlaw nigga with riches
Cream dreamin motherfucker, on a mash for bitches
Check my resume, sippin on Cristal and Alize
Smokin on big weed, keyed the Cali way
Don't like trickin but I'll buy you a fifth
I can't stand no sneaker wearin nappy head bitch
Let my pedigree, rebreed me, they're so cheap
Puttin bitch-made bustas to sleep with no grief
Mash on my so-called comp, who the man?
While I'm tuggin on yo' main bitch head (C'mere baby, Wessyde!)
Understand this, ain't no nigga like me, fuck Jay-Z
He broke and I smoke daily (come on y'all) baby let's be friends

Let's be friends (where my niggaz at? come on)
You ain't gotta be my man at all, long as you just bring me your
Friends, (all my niggaz, where my hoes at?)
Why you trickin on them other hoes?
Let's be friends (where the bitches at, where the niggaz with money?)
(Where you at baby?)
You ain't gotta be my man at all, long as you just bring me your
Friends, (cash makin hoes)
Why you trickin on them other hoes?
Let's be friends

I met you and I stuttered in passion
Though slightly blinded by that ass
It was hard to keep my dick in my pants
Every time you pass got me checkin for you hardcorestarin and watchin
Me and you one on one (see that bitch) picture countless options
Was it prophecy? Clear as day, visions on top of me
Erotic, psychotic, we posess bubonics
Far from a crush I wanna bust your guts and touch
Everything inside you from my head to my nuts
You got me sweatin like a fat girl goin for mine
Just a skinny nigga fuckin like she stole my mind
Back in time I recall how she used to be
I guess money and fame made you used to me
What's up in 9-6? Fine tricks in drag
Fuck Dre, tell that bitch he can kiss my ass
Back to you, my pretty ass caramel queen
Got my hands on your thighs now
Let me in between as friends

Let's be friends (wessyde, motherfucker right here)
You ain't gotta be my man at all, long as you just bring me your
Friends, (wessyde in this motherfucker)
Why you trickin on them other hoes?
Let's be friends (wessyde in this motherfucker right here)
You ain't gotta be my man at all, long as you just bring me your
Friends, (in this motherfucker right here)
Why you trickin on them other hoes?
Let's be friends

Can you imagine me in player mode, rush the tricks
I got em ready for a booty call, I fucked your bitch (Ha hah!)
Was it me or the fame? My dick or the game?
Bet I scream WESSYDE when I came (wessyde, ha ha ha)
Scream my name, cause baby it's delicious got a weak spot
For pretty bitches up and down, similar to switches
My movement, baby let your back get into it
Make it fluid, in and out, all around when a nigga do it
You got me high! Let me come inside
I love it when you get on top, baby let me ride! (let me ride!)
Who wanna stop me? Am I top notch?
Fuck player hatin niggaz cause they cock block (cock block)
You probably hate to see a real thug with vision, what's the game?
Rather see a nigga up in prison, why you change?
Made a livin out of cuss words, liquor, and weed
A bad seed turned good - in this world of G's
Baby got me fantasizin, seein you naked
It's the fuck song, so check my record
And let's be friends
(Where my niggaz at? Show me where my niggaz at?
Where my bitches at) Thug style

Let's be friends (where my niggaz at, where my bitches at?)
(Throw yo' guns in the air!)
Friends, (my ghetto love song, it goes on and on and on and on)
Let's be friends (where my niggaz at, where my bitches at?)
(Where my niggaz at?)
Friends, (where my niggaz at, where my bitches at?)
(Where my people at? Let's be)

Where my people at? Show me where my people at
Where my people at? Show me where my people at
All my niggaz now, just my niggaz come
Where my niggaz at? Just my niggaz now
Be friends, tell me where my niggaz at
Be friends, tell me where my bitches at
Be friends, tell me where my people at
Be friends, tell me where my bitches at
Make money, take money, be friends

Let's be friends (get your cash on, let's, get dough)
You ain't gotta be my man at all, long as you just bring me your
Friends, (c'mon, get your cash on)
Why you trickin on them other hoes?
Let's be friends (c'mon, get your cash on, let's, get paid)
You ain't gotta be my man at all, long as you just bring me your
Friends, (c'mon, getcha cash on)
Why you trickin on them other hoes?
Let's be friends

Make money, take money
Make money, take money
Make money, take money
Make money, take money
Make money, take money

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7ab3bbd781810151c0410958d37d572b

Trouble - Lyrics - Stoned Raiders - Cypress Hill

Title: Trouble
Album: Stoned Raiders
Artist: Cypress Hill
Composer(s): Louis Freese, Christian Wolbers, Eric Correa, Senen Reyes, Larry Muggerud

Lyric:
It's been a while now, been around the block many miles
Many faces, many places, that I found friend's traces
Where I spend time, places where my mind roam
Places I can call home, places I can get stoned

I just wanna be alone, when I'm feelin' in my zone
People wanna knock me down, 'cuz they never have their own
They won't get the best of me, but they try hopelessly
Why you wanna fuck wit' me? I'm not, what you s'posed to be

You did not give a damn, coulda just killed a man
Sawed off in my hand, but I had to kill the plan
Think I've found my piece of mind, feet planted on the ground
I just had to redefine, what I thought to myself

It all goes around me, and others who would down me
Who I don't give a fuck about, trouble always found me
I know I used to welcome it, with my arms open wide
Trouble's hand's on the door, but it can't come inside

No, trouble's at my door
(You want trouble? C'mon, you want trouble?)
(You want trouble? C'mon, you want trouble?)
No, trouble's at my door
(You want trouble? C'mon, you want trouble?)
(You want trouble? C'mon, you want trouble?)

Trouble on the line, all the fuckin' time
Got me contemplatin' the solution, the fusion my wicked mind
Got suckers that hate me, but it don't really matter
I'm like a gat when I bust, niggaz run and scatter

Movin' in circles, throwin' elbows and fists
You got to be a real nigga in the Cypress Hill pen
Like the critics talkin' shit, but I'm not concerned
A hundred G's for sixty minutes is the bank I earn

I try to put it to you bluntly, so you bitches can learn
That nobody get tired when it's time to burn
With so many phonies out there, a lot of you have been fooled
Into actually believin', that some shit is cool

Take the blinders off and go look for yourself
Fuck hearin' about shit, from somebody else
I'm down for myself, I back up myself
Put in all on the line, make sure that I'm felt

No, trouble's at my door
(You want trouble? C'mon, you want trouble?)
(You want trouble? C'mon, you want trouble?)
No, trouble's at my door
(You want trouble? C'mon, you want trouble?)
(You want trouble? C'mon, you want trouble? No)

Look, the wall's closin' in, and my shoe's wearin' thin
Had to be the biggest clown, that you couldn't comprehend
Some hated on my game, said I wouldn't be the same
Called me, Rock Superstar, Insane In The Brain

But I know I haven't changed, so I brush you to the side
Trouble's knockin' on the door, anxious jus' to come inside
Times I gotta block it out, no one likes to talk it out
Trouble keeps comin' in and I can't seem to lock it out

Got my hands on the phone, I don't wanna have to talk
If you're feelin' froggy son, then I guess you gotta jump

I can see it in your eyes, you don't seem to recognize
I wouldn't fall into your trap, for many lives to compromise
I'm not fallin' for your shit, you ain't gonna take me there
You can talk all you want, but I don't got your weight to bare

No, trouble's at my door
(You want trouble? C'mon, you want trouble?)
(You want trouble? C'mon, you want trouble?)
No, trouble's at my door
(You want trouble? C'mon, you want trouble?)
(You want trouble? C'mon, you want trouble?)

No, trouble's at my door
(You want trouble right now? C'mon)
(You want trouble right now? C'mon)
(You want trouble right now? C'mon)
(You want trouble right now? C'mon)

No, trouble's at my door
(You want trouble right now? C'mon)
(You want trouble right now? C'mon)
(You want trouble right now? C'mon)
(You want trouble right now? C'mon)

You want trouble? C'mon, you want trouble?
You want trouble? C'mon, you want trouble?
You want trouble? C'mon, you want trouble?
You want trouble? C'mon, you want trouble?

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80d6cc5459dc8f542da8cfb0e7120531

Rip Rock - Lyrics - Canibus

Title: Rip Rock
Artist: Canibus
Composer(s): Germain Williams, Wyclef Jean

Lyric:
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon
Rock! Rock! Rock! Rock!

Jump up and down if you love the sound
We rip and rock until we tear shit down
Rip Rock stands for hip-hop mixed with Rock 'n' Roll
I'm hardcore to my inner soul, hold on as I swerve outta control
Directly into the unknowns of a black hole
All my real niggaz with fucked up neurotransmitters
Wavin' glocks and swastikas, I'ma take twenty shots of this hard liquor
And swigga 'til I'm drunk as the Pississippi River
Even though I know the shit is fuckin' up my liver
Tomorrow when I wake up, I won't even remember how I got home
Or where I got this tattoo of a mic on my arm from
Or when I fucked them bitches last night, I shoulda used a condom
I guess not, now that's what I call Rip Rock

Rip, Rock, Rip, Rock
(C'mon)
Rip, Rock, Rip, Rock
(C'mon)
Rip, Rock, Rip, Rock
(C'mon)
Rip, Rock, Rip, Rock
(C'mon, yeah)

Rip, Rock, Rip, Rock
(C'mon)
Rip, Rock, Rip, Rock
(C'mon)
Rip, Rock, Rip, Rock
(C'mon)
Rip, Rock, Rip, Rock
(C'mon, yeah)

You want Rock 'n' Roll?
(We got it)
You want hip-hop?
(We got it)
You wanna wreck shop?
(We got it)
We got it, got it
We got it, got it, got it

Rip, Rock

You want Rock 'n' Roll?
(We got it)
You want hip-hop?
(We got it)
You wanna wreck shop?
(We got it)
We got it, got it
We got it, got it, got it

C'mon, c'mon
Rock! Rock! Rock! Rock!

Yo, I want you to sucker-punch whoever you standin' next to
If you ready to rock with a Refugee rebel
A Navy Seal underwater in a submarine vessel
Shittin' on niggaz above sea level
I'm tired of you MC's talkin' 'bout loot
I'm tired of you corny drug-induced rap groups
I'm tired of the lies, the cries, the screams
Tired of gettin' my name misspelled in magazines

I'm tired of you, two-faced disc jockeys
Non-believers, suckin' on my arch enemy's penis
You know who you are, I'm talkin' to you
You need to recognize, I'm tryin to introduce somethin' new
Somethin' I would sacrifice my life or die for
Somethin' if I was already dead, I would rise for
Somethin' that would make a fool a hundred times wiser
Somethin' that will help all mankind to prosper

I die with laughter, lookin' at you wack MC's
With your craft unmastered, bastards
Hip-hop in it's rarest form, crossbreeded with Rock 'n' Roll
Now rip rock is born, motherfuckers

Rip, Rock, Rip, Rock
(C'mon)
Rip, Rock, Rip, Rock
(C'mon)
Rip, Rock, Rip, Rock
(C'mon)
Rip, Rock, Rip, Rock
(C'mon, yeah)

You want Rock 'n' Roll?
(We got it)
You want hip-hop?
(We got it)
You wanna wreck shop?
(We got it)
We got it, got it
We got it, got it, got it

You want Rock 'n' Roll?
(We got it)
You want hip-hop?
(We got it)
You wanna wreck shop?
(We got it)
We got it, got it
We got it, got it, got it

C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, yeah
C'mon, c'mon, yeah, c'mon
Rip Rock

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f54ae47c153c4580b41fb6d35df832a8

The Streets - Lyrics - Living Legends - Eightball &Amp; Mjg

Title: The Streets
Album: Living Legends
Artist: Eightball &Amp; Mjg
Composer(s): Bernard James Freeman, Marlon Goodwin, Premro Smith, Sean Williams

Lyric:
Off brand niggaz, we ain't fuckin' with y'all
Catch up with ya kind 'cuz you ain't touchin' a dog
Imitation fake like Gucci suits that niggaz be wearin'
Nigga like me hit the room and all the bitches be starin'

I'm not fine I'm not cute, they just know I got some loot
Grippin' wood, lookin' good, '24s make them choose
Nine times out of ten, the bitches bad news
Hit the dick and start actin' like a motherfuckin' fool

Clothes brand new from my T-shirt to my shoes
Pop a tag everyday that's what ghetto niggaz do
Hustle hard, spread all the bread with my crew
When we in the club they be poppin' bottles too

We crunk and keep it hype and everybody know it's on
When my work hits the street watch how quick that shit be gone
I rap like I'm quick enough but catch 'em full of zones
When my work hits the street watch how quick that shit be gone, nigga

Street niggaz, keep your guns, hit the traps
Spend your bread on rims and ice, whatever them bitches like
Street niggaz, push it all hard or ball
Sticky weed, whatever you need, man, we got it all

Street niggaz, keep your guns, hit the traps
Spend your bread on rims and ice, whatever them bitches like
Street niggaz, push it all hard or ball
Sticky weed, whatever you need, man, we got it all

I'm just a street nigga, I keep my heat under the seat
If a bum run up hope he got his gun up
From sundown to sunup I keep it with me
And I end up be unloadin' on y'all when y'all hit me

It's a grand shame that you niggaz come from it
But can't walk through it, what is it? I thought you knew it
It was the streets, nigga, my feet used to hit it
When I didn't have no wheels to go get it

MJ fuckin', G droppin' these bars with no regards
For snitches and fake broads
You ain't hard from steroids, nigga, you big fraud
I remember when them bullets was takin' your lunch card

I'm a real ghetto politician
And what I gotta give in to motherfuckers who willin' to try to vision
When a nigga spittin', quit all the whinin' and bitchin'
Baby sharp, look and listen, pay attention to what you been missin'

It's the street niggaz, keep your guns, hit the traps
Spend your bread on rims and ice, whatever them bitches like
Street niggaz, push it all hard or ball
Sticky weed, whatever you need, man, we got it all

Street niggaz, keep your guns, hit the traps
Spend your bread on rims and ice, whatever them bitches like
Street niggaz, push it all hard or ball
Sticky weed, whatever you need, man, we got it all

Yeah, c'mon, street niggaz, street niggaz
We sittin' on leathers and we grippin' on wood
(The streets is watchin')
C'mon, yeah, we makin' plenty bread and we reppin' our hood
(The streets is watchin')

Yeah, c'mon, money over bitches, man, it still all good
(The streets is watchin')
Street niggaz, street niggaz
We makin' plenty bread and we reppin' our hood

What can I say about these streets that I be walkin'?
Not too much 'cuz where I from niggaz ain't motherfuckin' talkin'
We'd rather listen and watch, tryin' to flex and guard
Their clothes and Baume and Mercier[Incomprehensible] watches

They gave my gloss on, I paid the cost to be the boss
On these corners where ballin' niggaz floss on
Haters get tossed on, 5-0 get [Incomprehensible]
And out of towners get robbed and drop that
Can't nobody gonna stop that

See, it was like this before me, so why am I [Incomprehensible]
If you think it's time to change, nigga, show me
Obviously you don't know me, it's time that you learned
Niggaz that try to hold me on my grind, they get burned

I'm down from P.A., man, west side to the east, fool
(C'mon Bun B, dude, what about peace?)
Fuck peace, fool
You want some love, ask your momma or the Lord
Bitch, I'm down with pimps see, UGK be goin' harder

[Incomprehensible] street niggaz, keep your guns, hit the traps
Spend your bread on rims and ice, whatever them bitches like
Street niggaz, push it all hard or ball
Sticky weed, whatever you need, man, we got it all

Street niggaz, keep your guns, hit the traps
Spend your bread on rims and ice, whatever them bitches like
Street niggaz, push it all hard or ball
Sticky weed, whatever you need, man, we got it all

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d2c802995dce3029a1b7a5d686b013b9

Salute Da Gods!! - Lyrics - Total Devestation: The Best Of Busta Rhymes - Busta Rhymes

Title: Salute Da Gods!!
Album: Total Devestation: The Best Of Busta Rhymes
Artist: Busta Rhymes
Composer(s): Linda Creed, George Spivey, Trevor Smith, Thom Bell

Lyric:
Yeah yeah yeah
The anarchy, Busta Rhymes shit c'mon

Ready for Busta Rhymes
(Ha ha ha ha hoh)
He's the one we've all been waiting for forever
(I feel so fuckin good, my people)
Ready for Flipmode Squad
(So powerful, so good today)
They're the ones we've all been waiting for forever
(Yeah yeah, new rulership)
Ready for Busta Rhymes
(It feels so fuckin' good in my soul, come on)
He's the one we've all, been waiting for forever
(Yeah)
(I wanna see y'all all my people if you feel good)
Ready for flipmode squad
(Just talk to me, c'mon, c'mon)
They're the ones we've all, been waiting for, forever
(Now now, let me see y'all, so powerful)
Ready

All praise due we comin' through real hard
Niggaz raisin' they right hand salutin' da God
Yo like a burnin' sensation of Henny on the first sip
Hot shit my nigga let me spit a verse quick
Work shit inward until my niggaz hurt shit
And plot elaborate schemes for monies niggaz worship
Beautiful like the pleasure of when I burst my first clip
At a nigga who sold me a brick that wasn't worth shit
Yo we bomb shit fire alarm shit
With my bitches who take packages under they armpit
Now we remain the imperial live niggaz
Who consistantly blackout and rep for them wild niggaz
Yo you incompatible snatch yo' collateral
Gun blunt you and rep for every thug capital
Diagonal vision niggaz seein shit on slant
Plant beatings on niggaz and celebrate a war chant
Diabolic how we manifest raw logic
Chronological time we bring niggaz the raw project
Hold fort and represent as the grand wizard
Street chronicle illustrate the bakin' of a bad blizzard
I got a spot for ya
With live niggaz who murder sloppier
Than all of the trenchcoat mafia yo
'Cause when you hear the sweet music playin'
It's like theme music for murder scenes
Like the Colorado slayin 'cause I don't give a fuck
Speedin like we racin' on the aqueduct
Black tinted out government truck
Curbside on niggaz leanin' just a little bit
Trunk trapp'd with smoke my bitch'll take a little hit
Fake niggaz could be the best actors
My bullets whiz so fast you feel the windshield factors
In the wrong place you get your wig peeled backwards
Get an ounce of the 'dro and steam a pack of Blackwoods

Ready for Busta Rhymes
He's the one we've all been waiting for forever
(Yeah, yeah, just feel what I feel niggaz)
Ready for Flipmode Squad
(Yeah, just reach up and just touch the sky niggaz)
They're the ones we've all, been waiting for, forever
(Now, hah, yeah, I try so hard)
(To just share that shit that I'm feelin')
Ready for Busta Rhymes
(All my niggaz just talk to me)
He's the one we've all, been waiting for, forever
(So powerful flipmode squad now)
Ready for Flipmode squad
(Yeah, new rulership)
All my niggaz just walk in line)
They're the ones we've all, been waiting for, forever
(Walk in line with me, talk to me now)

Welcome
We are now in the current state of the anarchy
We fight to survive niggaz
We fight to rule our own government
We livin' in a current state of no fuckin' government
Niggaz don't even know how to follow they own spirit
Lost niggaz
Unsure niggaz, insecure niggaz
Fuck that
Salute all our motherfuckers
All my niggaz ready to hold it down on the front line
We survived it niggaz, 2000
Time for the new bloodline to run shit

Enjoy the album

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e84ad0065206fa2841e3ed4c8a3f7b9b

Clap Back - Lyrics - Blood In My Eye - Ja Rule

Title: Clap Back
Album: Blood In My Eye
Artist: Ja Rule
Composer(s): Jeffery Atkins, Irv Lorenzo, Scott Storch

Lyric:
Yeah, yeah, yeah!
I gotta get my headphones
All my gangsta niggaz is in the building on this one!
You know! Yeah yeah ya know
It's real! Hussein what's happ'nin' nigga?
I see you, aight Shadow what's poppin' blat!
Yeah my nigga O-1 in the motherfucking house
Jody in the house
(Jody Mack!)
My nigga Cadillac, Gotti what up?
Blackchild what up?

I'd like to welcome all my niggaz
To the world famous Murda Inc. Show
Big shout to all my Queens niggaz in Staten Island
Niggaz in Uptown, niggaz in Brooklyn niggaz
All my Bronx niggaz yeah, all my Jersey niggaz! You know?
We doing it real big right here! All my money niggaz
This shit commentated on the one's and two's!
They call me the Mighty Rule! How ya livin'?
This real shit we talkin'
I wanna ask all my gangsta niggaz a real question
(Holla back)
What do you do, when niggaz spit at you?

Clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to war niggaz!)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to war niggaz)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to war niggaz!)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back

Fuck if they hollin' about Rule nigga, here's the real
I'll pop ya top like Champagne bottles that chill
Wear nothing but ice, smiles tinted up to The Greatest
Tell 'em I'm nice too, plus push them nice grooves
The Inc roll like duce man, I'm ol' G Bobby J
And we sling at soccer fields the yay
They don't respect that, don't get your minds around
You'll get it pushed back, y'all don't want that

I send 'em to the morgue while keepin' my bitches bouncin' fa sho'
"In Da Club", with no gun, got em taking it off
Can't help that, I'm the nigga that puts it down
Once I hit that, that's if I'm up in the Maybach
Fasten them holding the throwback, West 44 Lakers
Let's make no mistakes, resents take place
We'll still proceed you with a gun in your face
When you got one in your waist, let's cock back nigga ample space!
(C'mon!)
We gon'

Clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to war niggaz!)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to war niggaz)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to war niggaz!)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back

The Rule be "In Da Club" rude motherfucker poppin' the bubbly
When shit get ugly I hug the snub closely
But usually we still see your bitches
Thats is known for quick shit, trying to ride my dick
I can't handle it, lower their manners
To get they ass in front of my dick to dance, the bitch want more chance
Catching hate from a glance, but I'm a giant
These niggaz is mere ants, I'll stomp 'em wit his thang

Give bitches the back hand, pimp shit, it's not realistic
The game is helpless, let's not get it twisted
I'm young, wrapped, and gifted, but still at the bottom
And stuck somewhere between Gomorrah and Saddam
I'm here to make this rap shit hotter than Harlem
Fuck the Dog beware of Rule, 'cause I'm the problem
We'll still proceed you with a gun in your face
When you got one in your waist, let's cock back nigga ample space!
(C'mon!)
We gon'

Clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to war niggaz!)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to war niggaz)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to war niggaz!)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back

Like Bush and Saddam, I'm a find out
Where 'em Laden's hiding and bomb him first
It could be much worse, I could be hotter than yo scrubs
Mask and glove, gun hot from burnin' ass up
I'd rather be bossed up, wit a bunch of broads
The preachers daughter screaming out "Fuck the law!"
I play a struck chord, wit the Christians
But y'all got the freakiest bitches out of all the religions

And God gave me his blessings to handle my business
All these wanksta snitches, let the nina blow kisses
If she some how misses, he gon' meet the mistress
And "Clap that boy" like Birdman and Clipse
I got these niggaz all over my dick, like hoes
I'm the star at these shows, I must be as hot as they come
We'll still proceed you with a gun in your face
When you got one in your waist, let's cock back nigga ample space!
(C'mon!)
We gon'

Clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to war niggaz!)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to war niggaz)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to war niggaz!)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back

Yeah, my nigga 'Zino in this motherfucker
That's how we do it, know what I mean?
Buck '89 what's up baby, I see you
Break 'em down nigga! break 'em down!
Bring them birds, in the motherfucking house
It's not a game no mo'
Queens in this motherfucker
You know
All my Jersey niggaz, all my Boston niggaz
All my Brooklyn niggaz, Brooklyn sir what up!
Yeah, holla at me man

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cfef9c1c372a1a43d0701c511765b649

Come On Down - Lyrics - De La Soul

Title: Come On Down
Artist: De La Soul
Composer(s): Kelvin Mercer, Joseph Wheeler, David J Jolicoeur, Otis Jackson Jr, Vincent Lamont Mason

Lyric:
{Look man! You're botherin' me G
I got shit to do right now, aight?
This is for De La Soul, you know what I'm sayin'?
Word up I got shit to do you test tube baby}

Check one two, check one two
De La Soul, is now back on the map
Long Island, is now back on the map
Good rap music, is now back on the map
Yo check one two, this is the voice of yours truly the Flava Flav
And I just want y'all to know, we ain't goin' nowhere
Old school is here to stay boy

On the outskirts, of what works
Live those who go for broke, and merk to get merked
Live by the sword and die by the semi
Not part of my ways, but stays right in my
N Y mentality for me, to be the best
The current, the ones who weren't
Pressed, to confess lies over hot joints
To sell to all who wanna hear some
(Young Guns these days got fireproof eardrums)

They don't give a shit who's hot
Just long as you're not, pussy and be the would-be king
But once crowned, the same wanna pull you down
(And what makes the world go 'round)
And I be the world renowned wonder why
Wonderin' why you can't stand me?
Is it because I'm the main Jackson?
And y'all just Titos and Randys? Yes it is
Bless the kid who hold his own head and expect to last

At the same time, I want respect and cash
And a few paragraphs in them books
Tellin' you how us native tongues made hits with no hooks
Rapped in every prefixes, gave birth to rap remixes back in '88
No disrespect to Diddy, just settin' it straight
Instead of zig-zaggin', got a degree in raggin'
My daughter says I'm a teen, 'cause like a teen
My pants always saggin' and I walk with a bop
The sex part of my time, I walked from my pop
No longer on timey and was never on loud
But cooked rhymes that make the chefs of Wu proud
I'm top cloud to rain on your show
And still anything goes when it comes to hoes because

Music
(C'mon)
New York
(C'mon)
Detroit
(C'mon)
C'mon down

Miami
(C'mon)
L A
(C'mon)
Vegas
(C'mon)
C'mon down

Boston
(C'mon)
Tucson
(C'mon)
Long Island
(C'mon)
C'mon down

V A
(C'mon)
Portland
(C'mon)
Chi-town
(C'mon)
C'mon down

Make you shake like, sunshine, naked shoe was once mine
Had bottom inner drawers and used to hit it from the mids
Fix your playground player or
Some kids'll come stomp in your sandbox
Swollen hands cocked back
No knives, no drama, no guns
No disrespectin' your seed of Ma Dukes
I puke rhyme and you laugh, take a sniff
Of these fricaseed raps on Carribean riffs
See last night's change was today's doe money
No time for your freestyles so roll money
No more whack albums with two joints
No more ballplayin' rappers who shoot ya two points
(No more G, 'cause I'm sick of your hip-hop!)

Your flows bore like seashores with no bitches
Switchhittin' niggaz will receive no pitches
No diamonds on the field, just keep the game real
Simple, see the God flows healthy
Wealth in the mind is like money in the bank
Exchange cash like thoughts in conversation
Thank you for your purchases, we doe out
And roll out the Kool-Aid, come and crop to see us pimp strut

Ain't really pimpin', I'm tryin' to catch the bus
The Krush Groove ain't got shit on Cold Crush
We dolly dolly babies 'cause we shootin' cats
'Back to the future' rap with Doc Brown shotgunnin' it
And pantyhose your whole style and start runnin' it
You dudes fiddle while we stay on the cello
The mush in your room son, we stay portobello
Can't settle for the same picket white fence
I got dreams of barbed wire in front of factories pa
Still push the truck with the factories pa
I'm bound to wreck the whip and turn insurance out, make 'em shout

D C
(C'mon)
Oakland
(C'mon)
U K
(C'mon)
C'mon down

New Orleans
(C'mon)
Little Rock
(C'mon)
Baltimore
(C'mon)
C'mon down

Memphis
(C'mon)
Utah
(C'mon)
Jersey
(C'mon)
C'mon down

Atlanta
(C'mon)
Brooklyn
(C'mon)
Philly
(C'mon)
C'mon down

Yeah that's right! Flava Flav, with De La Soul
Act bold, and we knock you straight up in the hole
You know what I'm sayin' six feet deep
That's the way that we keep, rollin'
You know what I'm sayin' operation tech sensation in the nation
Ready to take it to Penn station, you know what I'm sayin'
Yeah, ah ha ha ha
Long Island one is, that's where we is man
De la soul, you done it again
De la soul, you done it again
De la soul, you done it again
Flava Flav, de la soul, you done it again

{Persue my strategy , when it comes down to my work ethic
I mean it's simple, just be the best, you know what I'm sayin'?
To be the best, the first, the only one in the game
That's is gonna do it for years and years man
It's like, you know, how you gonna say
That I went out at the top of the game?
The top of the game niggas, is the one that's producing
Through out their career}

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