Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Chilly Down. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Chilly Down. Sort by date Show all posts

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Chilly Down - Lyrics - Labyrinth (Original Soundtrack) - David Bowie

Title: Chilly Down
Album: Labyrinth (Original Soundtrack)
Artist: David Bowie
Composer(s): David Jones

Lyric:
When the sun goes down
And the bats are back to bed
The brothers come 'round
I get out of my dirty bed

I shake my pretty little head
Tap my pretty little feet
Feeling brighter than sunlight
Louder than thunder
Bouncing like a yo-yo

Don't got no problems
Ain't got no suitcase
Ain't got no clothes to worry about
Ain't got no real estate or jewelry
Or gold mines to hang me up

I just throw in my hand
With the chilliest bunch in the land
They don't look much
They sure chilly chilly
They positively glow, glow

Chilly down with the fire gang
Think small with the fire gang
Bad hep with the fire gang
When your thing gets wild
Chilly down

Chilly down with the fire gang
Act tall with the fire gang
Good times, bad food
When your thing gets wild
Chilly down, chilly down

Drive you crazy, really lazy
Eye rollin', funky strollin'
Ball playin', hip swayin'
Trouble makin', booty shakin'

Tripping, passing, jumping, bouncing
Drivin', stylin', creeping, pouncing
Shoutin', screamin', double dealin'
Rockin', rollin' and a reelin'
With the mackin' sex appealin'
Can you dig our groovy feelin'?

So when things get too tough
And your chin is dragging on the ground
And even down looks up
Bad luck

We can show you a good time
And we don't charge nothin'
Just strut your nasty stuff
Wiggle in the middle yeah
Get the town talkin', fire gang

Chilly down with the fire gang
Think small with the fire gang
Bad hep with the fire gang
When your thing gets wild
Chilly down

Chilly down with the fire gang
Think small with the fire gang
Good times, bad food
When your thing gets wild
Chilly down

Chilly down with the fire gang
Think small with the fire gang
Bad hep with the fire gang

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71e7caab627ab39f76af895bf8c5b95d

Friday, August 20, 2010

Murda Murda - Lyrics - M.A.D.E. - Memphis Bleek

Title: Murda Murda
Album: M.A.D.E.
Artist: Memphis Bleek
Composer(s): Michael Diamond, Adam Yauch, Shawn Carter, Malik Cox, Adam Horovitz, Rick Rubin, Dwight Grant, Scott Storch

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

Lyric:
Chilly chill
It's gangsta, turn the music up, uh, ch'eah
Yeah, we back on that gangsta, gangsta shit
Shit, they just wanna play the motherfuckin' game
We don't give a fuck but Swizz'll lit up somethin' on you niggas
Chilly chill, let's go

I'm from murder, murder Marcyville
My nigga you heard I clap you, I certainly will
With my South Philly motherfuckers kill at will
Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill

Yeah, from murder, murder Marcyville
My nigga you heard I clap you, I certainly will
With my South Philly motherfuckers kill at will
Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill

I feel like a felon with two strikes, mad bullshit in this life
I done seen everythin' but Christ, luckily I'm just off the basement
You niggas just bullshittin' with bars
The boys you got just tryin' my patience

Like, I don't carry around banana clips like groceries
With a presence that make 'em don't wanna get 'em close to me
Talk about we suppose to be brothers
Don't make me laugh, motherfucka you chose to be

On the side opposin' me, no matter what culture you be
From, Young Hova light your ass up explosively
A lil' use K for ya, pour out the P-A for ya
Had to bring y'all like back in the day for ya

They don't respect nothin' else, they somethin' else
Two guns with sons will get inside yourself
Loose two lungs, bullets'll get inside your health
Will take the wind outta yourself, like so

Niggas for truely in a war with yours truly
While they emulating shit they saw in the Art Of War movie
But I'm the writer of Sun Tzu, so whatever son do
I do better, more lyrics, way more cheddar

Catch me if you can, I'm the gingerbread man
Keep pumpin' 'em up make me injure bre-thren
Niggas is tryna capitalize of Hov
Like I don't realize, I see the demons inside of they souls

Niggas is dreamin' to sell what I sold
Fuckers is fiendin' to held what I hold
I just know what I know
They respect me all across the globe, although

I'm from murder, murder Marcyville
My nigga you heard I clap you, I certainly will
With my South Philly motherfuckers kill at will
Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill

Murder, murder Marcyville
My nigga you heard I clap you, I certainly will
With my South Philly motherfuckers kill at will
Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill

Uh, uh huh, yea, yo, yo
It ain't nothin' to double clips, trust the fifth could be toss
Niggas poppin' their shit, they startin' ta piss me off
Bitches and bitch niggas tryna ride against homie
So fuck them and the Originator of Sophie

The gat spit rapid, duel actions
Look, I'm nice with the fifth the moments when you bastard get sick
I'm from the ghetto is turf where the metal do work
My ER eight grade, they had the errors since birth

Me and the God spittin', you know police come chalk ya
It's like you peep this and I'm the young A. Walker
Fuck it, I'm ridin' with Sig, you niggas is sweet
Collidin' with Cam and I'm throwin' with Free

Geda K's the co-d, young boss
Until we State Property, we spit in the Taurus
Fuck it, H in the pen, huh
You know we bang where we from nigga, H to the pen, it's nothin'

I'm from murder, murder Marcyville
My nigga you heard I clap you, I certainly will
With my South Philly motherfuckers kill at will
Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill

Yeah, murder, murder Marcyville
My nigga you heard I clap you, I certainly will
With my South Philly motherfuckers kill at will
Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill

Chilly chill
Chilly chill
Chilly chill

Aiyyo, the South Philly motherfucka kill at will
I keep my Mack Milly chilly chill
You niggas' gay like that for real
I move yay all day for real

Boss's plaque, check the status for real
Balls splat, you will lay in the ground for real
All day I'ma ammo for real
Clip shape like bananas for real

Guerrilla warfare hittin' the field
Six saw head splittin' your grill
New issue, or I might grip the Uzi pistol
Do more than bruise tissues

Crack bone marrow, lose grisel
Sit you down in a chair for real
Forever you'll wheel around for real
Listen boy, I get it down for real

I clutch pound for real
When I ball you touch down for real
Correct tar, Brett Farve, hecklaw
Cops send shots down your field
Tell, muah, leave the town for real

I'm from murder, murder Marcyville
My nigga you heard I clap you, I certainly will
With my South Philly motherfuckers kill at will
Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill

Yeah, murder, murder Marcyville
My nigga you heard I clap you, I certainly will
With my South Philly motherfuckers kill at will
Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill

Chilly chill
Chilly chill
Chilly chill
...

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83f4a7f4764eaad13d8237dd3a1bb5fd

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Chills - Lyrics - Gerry And The Pacemakers

Title: Chills
Artist: Gerry And The Pacemakers
Composer(s): Gerry Goffin, Jack Keller

Lyric:
Chilly, chilly, wah, wah, wah, wah
Chilly, chilly, wah, wah, wah, wah

Chills, runnin' up and down my spine
Well, I get them every time
That I feel your lips on mine
Chilly, chilly, wah, wah, wah, wah

Chills, colder than the morning glow
Creepin' down inside my soul
'Til I lose my self control

Whoa, what a feelin'
It's like a roller-coaster ride
You say you love me
Then my heart starts a-poundin' inside

Let me tell you 'bout chills
Colder than the morning glow
Creepin' down inside my soul
'Til I lose my self control

Oh, what a feelin'
It's like a roller-coaster ride
You say you love me
Then my heart starts a-poundin' inside

Let me tell you 'bout chills
Colder than the morning glow
Creepin' down inside my soul
'Til I lose my self control

Chills, runnin' up and down my spine
Whoa, oh, oh, chills, whoa, whoa, whoa
I've got chills

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009b06f023e2ffde262863f6839a7aaa

Friday, July 30, 2010

Ducks On A Pond - Lyrics - Incredible String Band

Title: Ducks On A Pond
Artist: Incredible String Band
Composer(s): Robin Williamson

Lyric:
Ducks on a pond, ducks on a pond
Very pretty swimming round
The lion and the unicorn journey very far
The answers are the question, sir
The lady soothes the lion's fur
Meek as a lamb he follows her
Wherever angels are
Sing me something

I asked the ice it would not say
But only cracked or moved away
I thought I knew me yesterday
Whoever sings this song

Ducks on a pond, ducks on a pond
Very pretty swimming round
Greetings on you kings in the sky
Who'll buy me a mynah bird
Play me a magic word
Speak of hopes with thoughts absurd
Thoughts floating by
Little ducks, pretty birds
Clouds across the sky
Sing me something

I asked the ice it would not say
But only cracked or moved away
I thought I knew me yesterday
Whoever sings this song

Moving pieces on the plains of troy
Carving faces on the rocks of joy
Pretty lady washing the tiles
Soapy pictures like crocodiles
Chilly, chilly, chilly, chilly winds blowing
Lovely spring coming soon
Chilly, chilly, chilly, chilly winds blowing
Lovely spring coming soon

I wear my body like a caravan
Gypsy rover in a magic land
Misty mountains where the eagles fly
Lonely valleys where the lost ones cry
I had a little letter full of paper
Inky scratches everywhere
Always looking, looking for a paradise island
Help me find it everywhere

Peacocks talking of the color gray
Awaking soundly in darkest day
A howling tempest on a silent sea
Lovely Jesus nailed to a tree
I had a little letter full of paper
Inky scratches everywhere
Always looking, looking for a paradise island
Help me find it everywhere

Mad as the moon when merlin falls
Silver castles and silver halls
Taking lessons from the piper's son
Learn to play while the world is young

Boys and girls come out to play
The moon doth shine as bright as day
Leave your sorrows and leave your sleep
And join your playfellows in the street
Come with a whoop or come with a call
Come with a goodwill or not at all
Up the ladder and down the wall
A ha'penny loaf will serve for all

Following my fortune now the holy grail is found
And the holy bread of heaven it is given all around
Farewell sorrow, praise God the open door
I ain't got no home in this world any more
I ain't got no home in this world any more
I ain't got no home in this world any more
Farewell sorrow, praise God the open door
I ain't got no home in this world any more

Poor as the birds but to give their songs away
Gathering possessions 'round to make a bright array
Dark was the night, praise God the open door
I ain't got no home in this world anymore
I ain't got no home in this world anymore
I ain't got no home in this world anymore
Farewell sorrow, praise God the open door
I ain't got no home in this world any more

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e65653e559b21e87f58465ca5eaa7b39

Monday, August 16, 2010

Werewolf - Lyrics - Absolutely Right: The Best Of Five Man Electrical Band - Five Man Electrical Band

Title: Werewolf
Album: Absolutely Right: The Best Of Five Man Electrical Band
Artist: Five Man Electrical Band
Composer(s): Les Emmerson

Lyric:
Mama said
"There's something weird 'bout Billy
I looked in his room, his bed
Wasn't slept in at all last night"

But Papa said, "Ah, now Mama
Don't you go talking silly
He's just a young boy
He's just sowing his wild oats
And that's all right"

But Mama said, "no
There's something real strange 'bout my Billy
The farmer down the road said
He lost a few of his sheep last night"

"I know he's my own flesh and blood
But he makes my blood run chilly
'Cause I saw him from my window
And he was on the heel
Just screaming at the moonlight"

Is it any wonder we hate to see
The sun go down
And is it any wonder we hate to see
The full moon coming around

So Papa said
"I guess there's only one thing to do 'bout Billy
Hand me down my gun, Son
Bring along that silver dinner bell"

But Mama said, "Papa
I beg you, don't kill him
'Cause I just couldn't bear
To think about my baby in hell"

But he went down to the blacksmith
Got him out of bed and said, "Get your fire hot
Oh, shut up your shutters and close down the doors
We're gonna need all the heat you got"

"'Cause I want you to melt my
Silver bell down to a single shot
I got a job to do and I got to get it done
Before the sun comes up"

Oh, so is it any wonder that we hate to see
The sun go down

Then we heard a shot
And I said, "Papa got 'em
Then we heard a scream
And Mama smiled and said
"Betcha Billy got 'em"

But when I lifted up my eyes
There was Papa in the doorway staring at the floor
And my big brother Billy never did
Come home no more

So is it any wonder we hate to see
The sun go down
And is it any wonder we hate to see
The full moon coming around

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45dbe447884920da5253b602bec56304

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

After School - Lyrics - 10 - Ll Cool J

Title: After School
Album: 10
Artist: Ll Cool J
Composer(s): Mark Curry, Robert Ginyard, J T Smith, Nile Rogers, Donald Woolfolk, J Brown, Bernard Edwards

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

Lyric:
LL Cool J
I know a honey named Millie, raised out in Philly
Body so illy she make a grown man silly
A brainiac really she pretend she dilly
Like, "Why you always look at me like that, you feel me?"

P. Diddy
There's a girl named Wendy, love black Bentleys
Nails in her mouth, stay tryin to tempt me
She rolls with her sister and they both real friendly
It wasn't like that when my pockets was empty

LL Cool J
Shorty named Suzie, not quite a floozy
Let's just say she has a problem bein choosy
Scarf on her doobie when she in the ja'causezi
On the celly with her man, "Love you - I'm at the movies"

P. Diddy
Bird named Chyna (baby where you find her)
Uptown, she wrote a map down with eyeliner
Hotness, two or three girlfriends behind her
(On Amsterdam, lay in the lane, dippin despite her)

Chorus P. Diddy and LL paraphrasing "Rappers Delight"
So after school, I take a dip in the pool
Which is really, on the wall
I got a color TV, so I can see, the Knicks play basketball
And we talkin bout checkbooks, credit cards, more money
Than a sucker, could ever spend
But I couldn't give a what about them cats you with
Get your friends baby, jump in the Benz

P. Diddy
I got a judge named Donna, I call her Your Honor
Whylin out with the gavel and the silk pajamas (let's go)

LL Cool J
And then there's Tamika, the seargeant gets deeper
She turned the bass way up and wind on the speaker
Girl named Kelly, rhinestones in her belly
Curly red hair, crackin jokes in the telly
Game concealed, a female Machiavelli
Hopin and prayin that I ain't ready for the jelly

P. Diddy
What about Asia (major flavor)
Can you feel it? Nothin can save ya
Once again I got 'em catchin the vapors

LL Cool J
Mr. Smith bout to get this paper
Paparazzi, pleaase give me a minute
You're pushin me to the limit, I know that I represent it
Be easy

P. Diddy
Tammy, down in Miami
Fa'scheezy baby uhh, I see you at the Grammy's

Chorus P. Diddy and LL paraphrasing "Rappers Delight"
So after school, I take a dip in the pool
Which is really, on the wall
I got a color TV, so I can see, the Knicks play basketball
And we talkin bout checkbooks, credit cards, more money
Than a sucker, could ever spend
But I couldn't give a what about them cats you with
Get your friends baby, jump in the Benz

P. Diddy
Everybody go - I wanna rock right now
LL and Diddy, we came to get down
Yes we're internationally known
For making movies and the microphone
Cause we get crazy, I mean outrageous
You rollin with us? You rollin with flavor

Ask Penny, I call her Good'n'Plenty (why?)
Cause after the show, there's nuttin open but Denny's (oh yeah)
Maybe the waffle house, down South there's many
She fix me a T-bone and take it to the Bentley

LL Cool J
Little Shaniqua, from Massapequa
Went and bought a beeper so I could reach her - anyway

P. Diddy
When you talk about Diddy and L
You talk about careers that's hard to kill
The whole entire globe recognize the grill
Walkin down the red carpet we're chilly chill

Chorus P. Diddy and LL paraphrasing "Rappers Delight"
So after school, I take a dip in the pool
Which is really, on the wall
I got a color TV, so I can see, the Knicks play basketball
And we talkin bout checkbooks, credit cards, more money
Than a sucker, could ever spend
But I couldn't give a what about them cats you with
Get your friends baby, jump in the Benz

P. Diddy
Everybody go - I wanna rock right now
LL and Diddy, we came to get down
Yes we're internationally known
For making movies and the microphone
Cause we get crazy, I mean outrageous
You rollin with us? You rollin with flavor

Chorus P. Diddy and LL paraphrasing "Rappers Delight"
So after school, I take a dip in the pool
Which is really, on the wall
I got a color TV, so I can see, the Knicks play basketball
And we talkin bout checkbooks, credit cards, more money
Than a sucker, could ever spend
But I couldn't give a what about them cats you with
Get your friends baby, jump in the Benz

Everybody go
LLFriends to the end baby, y'knahmsayin?
PDGot history baby
LLNot even, no question about it
PDWe won't stop
LLYeah never, word up, we keepin this money
PD10
LLOh yeah
PD10
LLRockin with my man, rockin with that Bad Boy cat
PDUncle L
LLRock the Bells
PDA.K.A., Black Elvis
LLP. Diddy
PDDiddy
LLHottest man in the city
PDY'all see it
LLWord up, please believe it
PDSmile at it, love it, embrace it
LLAhh, grin baby, grin
PDGet used to it
LLThat gettin money smile

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3b87b1f87c197b7a1698f878e5263d3c

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Chilly At The Crib - Lyrics - Ugly Americans

Title: Chilly At The Crib
Artist: Ugly Americans
Composer(s): D Robinson, D Boyle, Bob Schneider

Lyric:
I'm gonna come over baby tonight
Tie you down, tie you down to your bed
And treat you like you like rub your belly, rub your leg
Lick the inside of your ear until you start to beg

Lick your pussy, kiss your lips
Lick your body baby, from your toes to your fingertips
Talk dirty to you, talk to you nice
Gonna make your body tingle baby, gonna make it tingle twice

Gonna fuck you so hard that you'll say, "Don't stop"
Gonna have your pussy going snap crackle pop, pop, pop
Bam damn I'm the kinda man
That's gonna have you beggin' me to put my dick in your hand

And you know it ain't a play toy but baby, it'll do
Because you want me to come, I'm gonna come all over you
I know during the day you're gonna act all proper
But baby late at night you're a show stopper

You're just a dirty girl with a dirty mind
I'm gonna bend you over baby and show me your behind
I'm gonna make you do the nasty things you only think about
There ain't another like me baby, who knows just how to turn you out

'Cause baby, I've got the touch
I'm gonna give you so much

I ain't your daddy I'm your lover
I'm a mac motherfucker like no other
I got the boom boom baby
That you like

I'm gonna come over baby tonight
Lay you down, lay you down and treat you like you like
While your parents are asleep I'm gonna sneak into your room
And give you some of that boom, boom, boom

I'm gonna kiss ya, lick ya, suck ya, fuck ya
Spank ya, chew ya, stroke ya, screw ya, do ya
Take you from behind and on top and underneath
And from the side, tongue your nipples with my teeth

Rub your belly, rub your back
Rub you just right and rub you round the track
I'll rub your pussy till it's steaming
I'm gonna get you so hot that baby you'll be screaming

Screaming baby, baby, baby please
You got to give it to me now I'll give it to on my knees
'Cause I'm a brother with connection
I'm gonna give your lovely pussy an erection

Wait correction I'll make you holler
I'd be a rich motherfucker if I only had a dollar
And you'll be rubbing yourself while your driving
Home hopin' that your daddy'll be arriving

Home soon baby when I said I was gonna fuck ya
I didn't mean I was gonna fuck ya up it meant
I was gonna fuck your brains out
And give you something you'll want again and again

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f3ef413966636b16aa07bbefb20aff15

Friday, August 13, 2010

The Roc (Just Fire) - Lyrics - Come Home With Me - Cam'Ron

Title: The Roc (Just Fire)
Album: Come Home With Me
Artist: Cam'Ron
Composer(s): Cameron Giles, Malik Cox, Dwight Grant, Justin Smith

Lyric:
Yeah yeah, nigga
Just blazin' this shit, ya heard?
It's ya main man I'm back niggaz holla

My break I'm fresh off it
I never change I'm stuck in these ways
Nike Airs sweats and Taurus
But I'm a do it for my enemies
They wanna end my chill wanna see what that villa be

Now what that sound like?
Plus they know what a clip get down like
Turn bags from bladders legs to wheels paint it peels
'Cuz you fuckin' wit' a nigga that'll jump out raise the steel
I live this way it's real dog no joke

Blow smoke in ya bitch face piss in ya wheels
Slap ya custies, clap your workers, dead the strip
Stick ya connect, yap ya bitch

So let it be known I'm back for my grizzly
The sergeant, the cap, the mac holds 60
For rookies and vets I'll bang 'til it click
So run and tell ya duela the ruger come wit' two clips, dog

M easy won't leave my hood need me
Pop fa' sheezy who don't believe me?
We all criminals but live like a diplomat
We get low when the dough low get it back

Here is something you can't understand
How I could just kill a man for killa cam
Me and my Roc killa fam, top billers man
We run the spot, drop ceilings fam

Hit the wall drop ceiling fans
Listen boar, man I show you how to fill a van
Up with killers man and line the trunk
Keep a stash box for the nine and the pump
The coach walk you through and he grind you up

What chu want the dope or the weed?
How you want it packaged, in the cap or the bag?
How you want me packin' wit' the mac or the mag?
Yeah that bent get back, but listen scrap act real fast

And keep a wack that'll gag ya back
Block style from ya swagger, ya swacks
It's the broad street bully bitch
I bully niggaz on the broadest streets
I house niggaz on the narrowest block

Know my rules when the barrel get hot
When the gun blows and the shots fall and the smoke clear
Man I be hearin' you murder
Nobody hit up in the cross 'cuz I'm observin'

Nobody be missin' your loss 'cuz you deserved it
South Philly niggaz kill at will, I keep my Mac-Milli chilly chill
On the really real
'Fore I make you niggaz feel this steel

Go 'head stupid niggaz go fuck wit' them chicks
I'm the third little piggy I'm a fuck wit' them pricks
Better yet the bakery I got pies and cakes
Nigga think doublin' is turnin' 5 to 8

I turn 8 to 20, 20 to 100, 100 to 1000
That to 100,000, in front a housin'
Closed 'em all down dog, no one's allowed in
I'm coppin' everything I'm done wit' browsin'

It's the top don, glock palm, dot com
Get your shit rocked ma like Haseem Rahman
And I'm extra scary
CEO's all the frontin' ain't necessary, I fuck wit' secretaries

All for information it ain't necessary
They in love like the 14th of February
Play 'em like April 1st right before I slide off
It could be March 2nd, sound like July 4th

Halloween or Memorial Day
At your memorial be one year from today
All y'all think it's peace and peachy
I leave you reesy piecy all my bitches rock

Christian Dior, BCBG
'Round phony niggaz get the heeby jeebies
Hungry hoes say "Killa feed me feed me"
Calm down ma, easy, easy

Talk greasy, please me, get my man wheezy
Still rock ellesses, to squeeze appease me
He ain't no tease but measly
Not doggy's angels killa please believe me

You now rollin' with them thugs from the R O C
Niggaz wanna despise the team Roc a fella
When the shit gets down you know who's doin' the poppin
Killa easy

Fuck those who disagree, my bullets you get 'em free
Roc a Roc a
Roc a Roc a Roc a Roc a
Roc in this muh muh muhfucka

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6d8a30ff85e253a473da7cda0d8dff8c

Monday, August 16, 2010

The Red Dress - Lyrics - Motion City Soundtrack

Title: The Red Dress
Artist: Motion City Soundtrack
Composer(s): Justin Courtney Pierre, Joshua Allen Cain, Jesse Mack Johnson, Matthew Scott Taylor, Tony Richard Thaxton

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

Lyric:
I like your hair much better that way
When it hangs out front when it hangs out front
With tilted head like a listener
But I'm just thinking about the red dress
I like the red dress

I'm on my way, I'm on my way, I'm on my way
From coast to coast, I'm chilly most, I'm chill
I never knew the way to Pasadena
But now I know and now I know and I am grateful

You say, you'll burn this city down
With stars and stripes, with stars and stripes
And ask if I'll move out west with you
But I'm still thinking about the red dress

I like the red dress
I like the red dress
I like the red dress
I like the red dress
I like the red dress

I'm on my way, I'm on my way, I'm on my way
From coast to coast, I'm chilly most, I'm chill
I never knew the way to Pasadena
But now I know and now I know and I am grateful

Coast to coast and in too deep
Saving our secret for the weekends which I can't remember
Motel walls and in disguise
Telephone calls we don't reply with drink I see things better

I'll see you around
We'll bring the house down
We'll bring the house down

I like the red dress
I like the red dress
I like the red dress
...

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631f48e6d219eb470e3729d2c847fc0e

Monday, August 9, 2010

Hold It Now - Hit It - Lyrics - Licensed to Ill - Beastie Boys

Title: Hold It Now - Hit It
Album: Licensed to Ill
Artist: Beastie Boys
Composer(s): M Diamond, Adam Horovitz, R Rubin, Adam Yauch

Lyric:
Hold it now, hit it!
Yo Leroy!
Aw yeah, yo yo, yeah
Why don't you do that def jam right about now?

Now I chill real ill when I start to chill
When I fill my pockets with a knot of dollar bills
Sippin' pints of ale out the window sill
When I get my fill, I'm chilly chill

And now I just got home because I'm out on bail
What's the time? It's time to buy ale!
Peter eater parkin' meter all of the time
If I run out of ale, it's Thunderbird wine

Miller drinkin', chicken eatin', dress so fly
I got friends in high places that are keepin' me high
Get down with Mike D and it ain't no hassle
I got the ladies of the eighties from here to White Castle

Hold it now, hit it!
Yo Leroy!
It's my joint it's my, hold it now
It's my rhyme

The now and T, Adam Yauch in the place to be
And all the girls are on me 'cause I'm down with Mike D
I'm down with Mike D, and he ain't no baloney
For real, not phony O.E. and Rice-a-Roni

I come out at night 'cause I sleep all day
Well I'm the King Ad Rock, and he's MCA
Well I'm a-cruisin', I'm bruisin', I'm never ever losin'
I'm in my car, I'm goin' far and dust is what I'm usin'

Around the way is where I'm from
And I'm from Manhattan and I'm not a bum
Because you're pud-slappin', ball-flappin', got that juice
My name's Mike D and I can do that Jerry Lewis

Hold it now, hit it!
Yo Leroy!
Yo man, that was real def man
Try that again, man I like that def stuff, boy!

Hip hoppin', body rockin', doin' the do
Beer drinkin', breath stinkin', sniffin' glue
Belly fillin', always illin', bustin' caps
My name's Mike D and I write my own snaps

Now I'm a peep-show seekin' on the forty-deuce
I'm a killer at large and I'm on the loose
Pistol packin', monkey drinkin', no money bum
I come from Brooklyn 'cause that's where I'm from

Cheap skate, perpetratin', money hungry jerk
Every day I drink O.E. and I don't go to work
You drippy nose knucklehead, you're we behind the ears
You like men and we like beers!

Hold it now, hit it
Yo Leroy!
Pass that joint on over
Yo man, pass that over here man, all right

King of the Ave with the def female
You're rhymin' and stealin' with the freshest ale
Coolin' at the crib watchin' my TV
Ed Norton, Ted Knight and Mr. Ed

Pump it up homeboy, just don't stop
Chef Boyardee coolin' on the pot
I take no slack 'cause I got the knack
And I'm never dustin' out 'cause I torch that crack

The King Ad Rock, that is my name
Y'all's drinkin' Moet and we got the champagne
A quarter droppin', goin' shoppin' buyin' wigs
Surgeon General cut professor, D.J. Thigs!

Hold it now, hit it!
Hit it!
Hold it now, hit it!
Yo Leroy!

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99918cce339c40abbc18e86e10ee2f5e

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Faithless Love - Lyrics - Lynn Anderson

Title: Faithless Love
Artist: Lynn Anderson
Composer(s): John David Souther

Lyric:
Faithless love like a river flows
Like raindrops falling on a lonesome road
Down in some valley where nobody goes

And the night rolls in it's like a cold dark friend
Faithless love like a river flows

Faithless love, where did I go wrong?
Was it telling stories in a heartbreak song?
Where nobody's right, nobody was wrong

Faithless love has found me
Wrapped its chilly arms around me
Faithless love, where did I go wrong?

Well, I guess I'm standing in the hall of broken dreams
That's the way it sometimes goes
And every new love never turns out like it seems
I guess the feeling comes and goes

Faithless love like a river flows
Like raindrops falling on a lonesome road
Down in some valley where nobody goes

Faithless love has found me
Wrapped its chilly arms
Faithless love like a river flows

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ad529884346095ae89db0ce899056ae3

She Left Me Cold - Lyrics - Derailers

Title: She Left Me Cold
Artist: Derailers
Composer(s): Brian Hofeldt

Lyric:
Well, it was one hot day in mid-July
I had a little fight with that gal of mine
She went to the store for some cigarettes
Well, it's been three days and she ain't back yet

Well, she left me cold, she left me cold
Well, I'm lookin' just like Jack Frost or so I'm told
Well, it's a hundred degrees outside
But she left me cold

Well, that little gal of mine, she made me hot all the time
She kept me warm in the wintertime
But now I sit and shiver while the big tears flow
Until the icicles hang right off my nose

Well, she left me cold, she left me cold
Well, I'm lookin' just like Jack Frost or so I'm told
Well, it's a hundred degrees outside
But she left me cold

Well, the weatherman says that it's hot outside
But I wouldn't really know
I'm wearin' two sweaters and woolen socks
But I'm chilly from my head down to my toes

Well, she left me cold, she left me cold
Well, I'm lookin' just like Jack Frost or so I'm told
Well, it's a hundred degrees outside
But she left me cold

Well, the weatherman says that it's hot outside
But I wouldn't really know
I'm wearin' two sweaters and woolen socks
But I'm chilly from my head down to my toes

Well, she left me cold, she left me cold
Well, I'm lookin' just like Jack Frost or so I'm told
Well, it's a hundred degrees outside
But she left me cold

Hey, hey, hey, it's hundred degrees outside
But she left me cold

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a6ecc261aab48e6d1b179c722d7c4158

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Dignity - Lyrics - Dylan (3CD) - Bob Dylan

Title: Dignity
Album: Dylan (3CD)
Artist: Bob Dylan
Composer(s): Bob Dylan

Lyric:
Fat man lookin' in a blade of steel
Thin man lookin' at his last meal
Hollow man lookin' in a cottonfield
For dignity

Wise man lookin' in a blade of grass
Young man lookin' in the shadows that pass
Poor man lookin' through painted glass
For dignity

Somebody got murdered on New Year's Eve
Somebody said that dignity was the first to leave
I went into the city, into the town
Into the land of the midnight sun

Searchin' high, searchin' low
Searchin' everywhere I know
Askin' the cops wherever I go
Have you seen dignity?

Blind man breakin' out of a trance
Puts both of his hands in the pockets of chance
Hopin' to find one circumstance
Of dignity

I went to the wedding of Mary Lou
She said I don't want nobody see me talkin' to you
She could get killed if she told me what she knew
About dignity

I went down where the vultures feed
I would've got deeper but there wasn't any need
I heard the tongues of angels and the tongues of men
And it wasn't any difference to me

Chilly wind sharp as a razor blade
House on fire, debts unpaid
Gonna stand at the window, gonna ask the maid
Have you seen dignity?

Drinkin' man listens to the voice he hears
In a crowded room full of covered up mirrors
Lookin' into the lost forgotten years
For dignity

I met Prince Phillip at the home of the blues
Said he'd give me information if his name wasn't Hugh
He wanted money up front, he said he'd been abused
By dignity

Footprints runnin' cross the silver sand
Steps goin' down into tattoo land
I met the sons of darkness and the sons of light
In the bordertowns of despair

Got no place to fade, got no coat
I'm on the rollin' river in a jerkin' boat
Tryin' to read a letter to me somebody wrote
About dignity

Sick man lookin' for the doctors cure
Lookin' at his hands for the lines that were
And into every masterpiece of literature
For dignity

Englishman stranded in the blackheart wind
Combin' his hair back, his future looks thin
He bites the bullet and he looks within
For dignity

Someone showed me a picture, I just had to laugh
Dignity never been photographed
I went into the red, went into the black
Went into the valley of dry bone dreams

So many roads, so much at stake
So many dead ends and I'm at the edge of the lake
Sometimes I wonder what it's gonna take
To find dignity

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3c42f8881f427ed8b78e8ebbb49beb72

Monday, August 2, 2010

Blood Hound (Featyoung Buck Of G Unit) - Lyrics - Get Rich Or Die Trying - 50 Cent

Title: Blood Hound (Featyoung Buck Of G Unit)
Album: Get Rich Or Die Trying
Artist: 50 Cent
Composer(s): Sean Henderson, Curtis Jackson, David Brown

Lyric:
G-Unit, UTP, G-Unit, UTP
G-Unit, UTP, G-Unit, UTP
50 Cent, get 'em bucked

50 Cent, that's my name, man I ain't fuckin' playin'
I move on you wit' that Mac mayn
Come off, now watch your chain for I blow out your brains
Shells hit your chest go out your back mayn

See me I put in work, man I been doin' dirt
For so long when niggas get laid out
Niggas run through my crib, to holla at the kid
That's when I start bringin' them thangs out

Then we go through the strip, hangin' up out the whip
Dumpin' clips off at they whole clique mayn
When witnesses around, they know how we get down
So when the cops come they ain't see shit mayn

My soldiers slangin' 'caine, sunny, snow, in sleet or rain
Come through the hood and you can cop that
I'm sittin' on some change, G-Unit gots the game
Come through here stuntin' you get popped at

I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped
Love to squeeze gats but you don't hear me though
I love to hit the block, I love my two glocks
Love to bust shots but you don't hear me though

I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped
Love to squeeze gats but you don't hear me though
I love to hit the block, I love my two glocks
Love to bust shots but you don't hear me though

I came in this game knowin' niggas gonna hate me
Just for the simple fact they know that I'm a rida'
I got a hell of a aim, I keep on tellin' ya mayn
I swear ain't nobody gonna find ya

When I get lifted I'm tempted to tear your block up
Your niggas can't run 'cause I'm behind ya
Me and Chilly in your city wit' a couple nine-milli's
You better stay in line bro'

'Cause if I walk it I'll talk it, you know we'll walk up and pop it
I love the sound of gunfire bro'
Right now we smackin' 'em wit' platinum
And they hate it 'cause we made it, that's what we keep that eye for

I represent it 'cause I'm in it, UTP until I'm finished
Juvenile, they can't stop us
And I admit it, I live it I'll knock a baller off
His pivot with this motherfuckin' choppa'

I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped
Love to squeeze gats but you don't hear me though
I love to hit the block, I love my two glocks
Love to bust shots but you don't hear me though

I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped
Love to squeeze gats but you don't hear me though
I love to hit the block, I love my two glocks
Love to bust shots but you don't hear me though

My twenty-inches spinnin', you always see me grinin'
And you hear niggas call me Grimey
They hit me wit' them bricks and I ain't pay 'em shit
I'm out of town, they can't find me

When I come back around, man I'ma back 'em down
I run up bustin' that Tec mayn
If you ain't got a gun and you can't fuckin' run
My advice is you hit the deck mayn

But if you get away and come back another day
My soldiers will leave you wet mayn
'Cause we know where you be and we know where you stay
And we'll come trippin' through your set mayn

Man you heard what I said, now get it in your head
I ain't payin' no fuckin' debt mayn
'Cause you see a middle man but you don't understand
You see a fuckin' fake ass connect' mayn

I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped
Love to squeeze gats but you don't hear me though
I love to hit the block, I love my two glocks
Love to bust shots but you don't hear me though

I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped
Love to squeeze gats but you don't hear me though
I love to hit the block, I love my two glocks
Love to bust shots but you don't hear me though

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1973c710acb2d0086c751ef323b8e6cf

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Blood Hound - Lyrics - Get Rich Or Die Tryin' - 50 Cent

Title: Blood Hound
Album: Get Rich Or Die Tryin'
Artist: 50 Cent
Composer(s): Sean Henderson, Curtis Jackson, David Brown

Lyric:
G-Unit, UTP
Ha ha
G-Unit, UTP, G-Unit, UTP
G-Unit, UTP, 50 Cent get 'em bucked

50 Cent, that's my name, man I ain't fuckin' playin'
I move on you wit' that Mac mayn
Come off, now watch your chain
Fo' I blow out your brains
Shells hit your chest go out your back mayn
See me I put in work, man I been doin' dirt
For so long when niggas get laid out
Niggas run through my crib, to holla at the kid
That's when I start bringin' them thangs out

Then we go through the strip, hangin' up out the whip
Dumpin' clips off at they whole clique mayn
When witnesses around, they know how we get down
So when the cops come they ain't see shit mayn
My soldiers slangin' 'caine, sunny, snow, in sleet or rain
Come through the hood and you can cop that
I'm sittin' on some change, G-Unit gots the game
Come through here stuntin' you get popped at

I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped
Love to squeeze gats but you don't hear me though
I love to hit the block, I love my two o'clocks
Love to bust shots but you don't hear me though

I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped
Love to squeeze gats but you don't hear me though
I love to hit the block, I love my two o'clocks
Love to bust shots but you don't hear me though

I came in this game knowin' niggas gon' hate me
Just for the simple fact they know that I'm a rida'
I got a hell of a aim, I keep on tellin' ya mayn
I swear ain't nobody gon' find ya
When I get lifted I'm tempted to tear your block up
Your niggas can't run 'cause I'm behind ya
Me and Chilly in your city wit' a couple nine milli's
You better stay in line bro'

'Cause if I walk it I'll talk it, you know we'll walk up and pop it
I love the sound of gunfire bro'
Right now we smackin' 'em wit' platinum
And they hate it cause we made it, that's what we keep that eye for
I represent it 'cause I'm in it, UTP until I'm finished
Juvenile, they can't stop us
And I admit it, I live it
I'll knock a baller off his pivot with this motherfuckin' choppa'

I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped
Love to squeeze gats but you don't hear me though
I love to hit the block, I love my two o'clocks
Love to bust shots but you don't hear me though

I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped
Love to squeeze gats but you don't hear me though
I love to hit the block, I love my two o'clocks
Love to bust shots but you don't hear me though

My twenty-inches spinnin', you always see me grinin'
And you hear niggas call me grimey
They hit me wit' them bricks, and I ain't pay 'em shit
I'm outta town, they can't find me
When I come back around, man I'ma back 'em down
I run up bustin' that Tec mayn
If you ain't got a gun and you can't fuckin' run
My advice is you hit the deck mayn

But if you get away and come back another day
My soldiers'll leave you wet mayn
'Cause we know where you be and we know where you stay
And we'll come trippin' through your set mayn
Man you heard what I said, now get it in your head
I ain't payin' no fuckin' debt mayn
'Cause you'se a middle man, but you don't understand
You'se a fuckin' fake ass connect mayn

I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped
Love to squeeze gats but you don't hear me though
I love to hit the block, I love my two o'clocks
Love to bust shots but you don't hear me though

I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped
Love to squeeze gats but you don't hear me though
I love to hit the block, I love my two o'clocks
Love to bust shots but you don't hear me though

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ac489ed1808b5ad2216f47cbaf58f67e

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Circle Of Steel - Lyrics - Gordon Lightfoot

Title: Circle Of Steel
Artist: Gordon Lightfoot
Composer(s): Gordon Lightfoot

Lyric:
Rows of lights in a circle of steel
Where you place your bets on a great big wheel
High windows flickerin' down through the snow
A time you know

Sights and sounds of the people goin' round
Everybody's in step with the season

A child is born to a welfare case
Where the rats run around like they own the place
The room is chilly, the building is old
That's how it goes

The doctors found on his welfare rounds
And he comes and he leaves on the double

"Deck the Halls" was the song they played
In the flat next door where they shout all day
She tips her gin bottle back till its gone
The child is strong

A week, a day, they will take it away
For they know about all her bad habits

Christmas dawns and the snow lets up
And the sun hits the handle of her heirloom cup
She hides her face in her hands for a while
Says, "Look here child"

"Your fathers pride was his means to provide
And he's servin' three years for that reason"

Rows of lights in a circle of steel
Where you place your bets on a great big wheel
High windows flickerin' down through the snow
A time you know

Sights and sounds of the people goin' round
Everybody's in step with the season

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d82dc995b5bd1ee0458d3bed155eed40

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Cold Rain &Amp; Snow - Lyrics - Grateful Dead

Title: Cold Rain &Amp; Snow
Artist: Grateful Dead
Composer(s): Bill Kreutzmann, Robert Hall Weir, Ron Mckernan, Philip Lesh, Jerome J Garcia

Lyric:
Well, I married me a wife, she's been trouble all my life
Run me out in the cold rain and snow, rain and snow
Run me out in the cold rain and snow

Well, she went up to her room where she sang her faithful tune
And I ain't goin' be treated this way, this ol' way
And I ain't goin' be treated this way

She's coming down the stairs, combin' back her yellow hair
Well I'm goin' where those chilly winds don't blow, winds don't blow
I'm goin' where those chilly winds don't blow

Well, I married me a wife, she's been trouble all my life
Run me out in the cold rain and snow, rain and snow
Run me out in the cold rain and snow

Run me out in the cold rain and snow
Run me out in the cold rain and snow
Run me out in the cold, cold rain and snow
Run me out in the cold, cold rain and snow
Run me out in the cold rain and snow

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f75fc6453fda3f2095e4459b8dbc4a8d

Friday, August 13, 2010

Jackin For Beats - Lyrics - Kill At Will - Ice Cube

Title: Jackin For Beats
Album: Kill At Will
Artist: Ice Cube
Composer(s): Erick S Sermon, Parrish Joseff Smith, William Earl Collins, George Jr Clinton, Gregory E Jacobs, Anthony D Wheaton, Al Nichol, Mark R Volman, O'Shea Jackson, Howard Kaylan, Garry Marshall Shider, Walter Morrison, Derrick A Baker, John Barbata, William Lee Bichols, Teren Delvon Jones, Jim Pons, Roger Troutman, Allen Williams

Lyric:
"Wait a minute, hold on, get your ass up"
"Whassup nigga?"
"Get over there, shit"
'Ya lil' punk, ass nigga"
"C'mere, c'mere, c'mere boy"

"God damnit, you stop that shit now"
"Take him to jail and get him the hell from in front of this house"
"Now wait a minute, wait a minute, hey man"
"Whassup?"
"Wait a minute"
"There are police, go"

Give me that beat fool, it's a full time jack move
Chilly chill, yo homie make the track move
And I'll jack any Tom, Dick and Hank
That's the name of the suckers I done ganked

I get away from a copper
Drop a dime, I'll break you off somethin' proper
With the L E N C H M O B
T-Bone and that's J D

And here's how we'll greet ya
Stop fool, come off that beat ya
Feel dumb 'cuz you're caught in the dark
(Ya lil' nuttin' ass mark)

Raise up, 'cuz you can't have it back
You said, "I ain't never got gaffled like that"
Off the end of the gat you choke
Short dog's in the house, "Whattup Loc?"

Nuttin' but a come up
Gimme that bass and don't try to run up
'Cuz you'll get banked somethin' sweet
Ice Cube and the Lench Mob is jackin' for beats

Play it jack
Play it jack
Play it, play it, play it jack

Huh and even if you're down with my crew
(Yo chuck man, I don't understand this man)
(Yo, you got to slow down)
I jack them too

And then we'll freak it
Kick that bass and look what we did
Fade the grade, played and made a few mil
And I keep stealin'

Ice Cube'll make it funky
But right about now, let's get up in the hump
But I don't party and shake my butt
I leave that to the brothers with the funny haircuts

And it'll drive you nuts, steal your beat and give it that gangsta touch
Like jackin' at night, say hi to the three fifty-seven I'm packin'
And it sounds so sweet
Ice Cube and the Lench Mob is jackin' for beats

Play it jack
Play it jack, jack
Play it, play it jack

Ice Cube, take a funky beat and re-shape
Locate a dope break and then I break it
And give it that gangsta lean
Dead in your face as I turn up the bass

I make punk suckers run and duck because
I don't try to hide 'cuz you know that I love to
Jack a fool for his beat and then I'm out
So when I come to your town don't crowd me

'Cuz I know, you're gonna wanna kick it with me
But I know, none of y'all can get with me
So you think you're protected
Well you are 'til you put a funky beat on a record

Then I have to show and prove and use your groove
'Cuz suckers can't fade the Cube
And if I jack you and you keep comin'
I'll have you marks a hundred miles and running

Stop, stop, stop, stop
Sa-prize, niggaz

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Thursday, August 12, 2010

Fuck You And Your Cat - Lyrics - Goldfinger - Goldfinger

Title: Fuck You And Your Cat
Album: Goldfinger
Artist: Goldfinger
Composer(s): John William Feldmann

Lyric:
The night is chilly as the stars above
The things you said that day, made me feel loved
To smell your hair and feel you in my arms
How I trusted you and let myself go

Now it's gone away, so long, so long

Pictures in my head of what could never be
You cut me off, you let me down, you lied to me
I take you out, I rub you down, I sell you shoes
So fuck your trust, your perfume and your mother too

Where's my T-shirt? Where's my money?
Fuck you and your cat

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