Confused Art - Lyrics - Babylon Zoo

Title: Confused Art
Artist: Babylon Zoo
Composer(s): Jaz Mann

Lyric:
Red light, green light
Red light, green light
Red light, green light
Red light, green light

Red light, green light
Red light, green light
Red light, green light
Red light, green light

Passion is dead
Computer sex
We capture fire
Karma has died

Violence kills, the innocent
Of modern youth a common truth
Passion dies, Silent souls
Governments they take control

Extra terrestrial behavior
In my own backyard
The television always lies
The camera blinds my eyes

A.R.T.
Confused A.R.T.
Confused A.R.T.
Confused art
Confused art

Red light, green light
Red light, green light
Red light, green light
Red light, green light

Fashion's a crime
Money's the line
Try and forget
Karma is dead

Politicians always lie
They cover truths to rule our lives
Passion dies silent souls
Government they take control

Extra terrestrial behavior
In my own backyard
The television always lies
The camera blinds my eyes

A.R.T.
Confused A.R.T
Confused A.R.T
Confused A.R.T
Confused
A.
(Confused)

R.
(Confused)
T.
(Confused)
Confused
(Confused)
A.
(Confused)

R.
(Confused)
T.
(Confused)
Confused
(Confused)

A.R.T.
Confused, A.R.T.
Confused, A.R.T.
Confused, A.R.T.
Confused, A.R.T.

Confused, A.R.T.
Confused, A.R.T.
Confused, A.R.T.
Confused

A.R.T.
Confused, A.R.T.
Confused, A.R.T.
Confused

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Gallery - Lyrics - Mario Vazquez - Mario Vazquez

Title: Gallery
Album: Mario Vazquez
Artist: Mario Vazquez
Composer(s): Shaffer Smith, Mikkel S Eriksen, Tor Erik Hermansen

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

Lyric:
God broke the mold when he made this one I know
She's breathtaking but so much more
She walks in the room, your love's closed
Making you never want to breathe again

Her boyfriend has got so much dough
So much ice his neck and wrist froze
Is he faithful to her? Hell no
But she choose to be with him, shorty

Tell me is the money worth your soul?
Tell me what's the reason that you
Hold on when you know that dude
Has a whole wall of 'em just like you?

And girl you're just way too fine
Got to be treated as one of a kind
Girl use your mind, don't be just another dime
Because

I can't take
Seeing you with him
'Cuz I know exactly what you'll be
In his gallery

Just not fair
And it's tearing me apart
You're just another priceless work of art
In his gallery

She's so confused, she knows she deserves more
Someone who will love and adore
But his money's hard to ignore
She really doesn't know what to do

Girl it's just a matter of time
Before he finds another more fine
After he's done dulling your shine
You're out the door and he's through with you

Tell me is the money worth your soul?
Tell me what's the reason that you
Hold on when you know that dude
Has a whole wall of 'em just like you?

And girl you're just way too fine
Gotta be treated as one of a kind
Girl use your mind
Don't be just another dime

I can't take
Seeing you with him
'Cuz I know exactly what you'll be
In his gallery

Just not fair
And it's tearing me apart
You're just another priceless work of art
In his gallery

You're a masterpiece
I know that he
Can't appreciate your beauty
Don't let him cheapen you
He don't see you like I do
Beautiful not just for show
It's time that someone lets you know

I can't take
Seeing you with him
'Cuz I know exactly what you'll be
In his gallery

Just not fair
And it's tearing me apart
You're just another priceless work of art

I can't take
Seeing you with him
'Cuz I know exactly what you'll be
In his gallery

Just not fair
And it's tearing me apart
You're just another priceless work of art
In his gallery
In his gallery

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93ddf10555a4e2b1e12b812e4998c738

The Art Of Subconscious Illusion - Lyrics - Sounding the Seventh Trumpet - Avenged Sevenfold

Title: The Art Of Subconscious Illusion
Album: Sounding the Seventh Trumpet
Artist: Avenged Sevenfold
Composer(s): Zachary James Baker, Brian Elwin Jr Haner, Matthew Charles Sanders, James Owen Sullivan

Lyric:
A living nightmare, asleep but still aware
The endless torture, the painless pleasure

I grasp myself, trying to regain control
I experience and learn in another faction of my mind
So confused but everything makes perfect sense
Can't feel the pain, emotional pain's so much deadlier

Lost, you've just been raped
Pain, your friends can't help you
Why won't they help you
Another reality

This can't be happening
Why is this happening?
Who the fuck are you?
Who the fuck are you?

Trying hard to figure out what's done
I [Incomprehensible] but now I run
The images in my head
All the problems that I've been fed
All the problems that I've been fed
[Incomprehensible] in my head

Punching slowly my mind can't change the speed
As my victims bleed
No matter what I do or how hard I try
I can't use my abilities, use my abilities

Art of illusion
My razor sharp knife's edge
Pierces my victim's body
But I can't take their soul

Punching through jello
Stabbing, not killing
Disappointment, discomfort

My razor sharp knife's edge
Pierces my victim's body
But I can't take their soul

Punching through jello
Stabbing not killing
Disappointment, discomfort

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07abb8c962684c8ab45d074c9821a0c4

52 - I Can Call On You - Lyrics - Behind The Music - Kj

Title: 52 - I Can Call On You
Album: Behind The Music
Artist: Kj
Composer(s): Jonah Sorrentino, Tedd Tjornham

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

Lyric:
Our Father Who art in Heaven
Hallowed be Thy name
Thy Kingdom come
Thy will be done on earth
As it is in Heaven

I can, I can call on You
I know that You'll hear me
I can, I can call on You
I know that You'll answer

You didn't know what to do
Came home from after school
Mom and dad said they were through
Now pretty soon was gonna have to move

Shut the door, went inside his room
Laid on the floor and he cried to You
Said, "Jesus, please help me through
Right now I just feel so confused
Don't know what I'm supposed to do"

But I need to be close to You
Help me with what I'm goin' through
'Cuz I know that You're here when I'm callin' You
Everything's just fallin' through

But ain't nuttin' too hard for You
So please come when I call to You
'Cuz all that I have is all in You
And that's why

I can, I can call on You
I know that You'll hear me
I can, I can call on You
I know that You'll answer

I can, I can call on You
I know that You'll hear me
I can, I can call on You
(I can call on You)
I know that You'll answer

She didn't know what to say
She got the phone call and it was late
It was a hit and run just on the free way
And her son got hurt and was in bad shape

Tears ran down her face
As her mind began to race
Didn't know what to do, what move to make
So she called up to You and began to pray

"Jesus", she began to say, "I need You in a major way
My son might die today, I'm so confused
Please provide a way, please now just give me strength
Please just help me face everything that's about to come my way
In You I trust and put my faith, that's why"
(That's why)

I can, I can call on You
I know that You hear me
I can, I can call on You
I know that You answer
(I know that You'll answer)

I can, I can call on You
(I can call on You)
I know that You hear me
I can, I can call on You
I know that You answer
(I know that You answer)

So what I wanna say tonight
Anything you face in life
When your mind is filled with strife
You can always find strength in Christ

Even times when the money is tight
Even times when nothin' is right
Don't worry 'bout nothin' in life
Call Him and that's my advice
And that's why, that's why, that's why
(That's why)

I need You

(I can call on You)
I can, I can call on You
I know that You hear me
I can, I can call on You
I know that You answer

I know that you answer
I can, I can call on You
I can call on You
I know that You answer

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77044fd47dd5cdab2b928d44733b12a6

Squat! - Lyrics - De La Soul

Title: Squat!
Artist: De La Soul
Composer(s): Michael Diamond, Kelvin Mercer, David Jolicoeur, Vincent Mason, Adam Horovitz

Lyric:
Turn that shit off man, what's wrong with you man?
You know we got a party man, get the other record
(Here we go)
(Let it go)
Just one more time, from 'Stix N Stonz'

It's the M I K E, ohh, to the D
I'm comin' exquisite and V.I.P.
Tryin' to spread some love like roots on a tree
Stayin' true to this vision in the Y2G

Two G's got 'em scratchin' it like the fleas
And Ad Rock got it locked like a crooked cop
Now, it's Ad Rock, y'all remember me
The guy ya bit ya style from off the TV

I score Mmmma-Zah-Ayy's all day
My essays are felt worldwide
We like four planets on the mic
Aligned arrays retired all in the days
Game, too blam for these lames
(Baby, baby)

When I was nine, I played with slime
Got rhymes ga-lot, got rhymes ga-limes
I got a million like rhymes leavin' ya stung
I got my own crew called the nasal tongue

Yo take a few of these b-boys and call me in the mornin'
(Okay)
Keep it on the crusty eye, bagel with some butterflies
Spit gritty like we in MCA's voice box
Y'all bull and my ox don't fit the mix

(Disc jock)
It be some classic material kid
(Disc jock)
Got the calm cats blowin' their lid
(Disc jock)
You get plush off the rack

And buy plenty or more we got em by the stack
(Disc jock)
Got us walkin' all over the world
For all the fly fellas and all the fly girls
(Disc jock)
You can't get enough when we servin' this

Come on Squat, come on Squat
Come on Squat, come on Squat
Come on Squat, come on Squat
Come on Squat, come on Squat

Now we'd like to introduce to you, Ad Rock

Ad Rock in the house you don't stop
It's the B E A S T I E B O Y S with the most finesse
Don't mean to be crude, don't mean to be crass
But listen Guiliani you can kiss my ass
(What?)
You heard my word, now Dove you play the preacher
Get on the mic if you love all the creatures

Well yeah, I got these fishes swimmin' 'round my baracuda
Back in '82 I used to ride a street scooter
Called 'em cuter than pigtails, sales you keep 'em level
And smack you with a shovel and break your lifestyle
(Oww)

Firm on the mic since my days of a child
Got a 'License Too Ill' to flash to police
The only beast I huddles with the Beastie Boys
Bringin' 'Noise' like P.E. to your TV

Aiyyo, this beat's barefoot and knock-kneed
Stripped to the rhyme
And every line made from scratch
Attached like stripes to shell-toes
Thin spools that hold the herb
Mike what's the word?
(Word)

It's like the ooh-la-la, ooh-ooh-la-la
Rhymin' over old breaks like the Mardis Gras
Party people cross and bump they go, ooh, and they, ahh
And Mike D and Ad Rock down with the De La

(Disc jock)
Get the people dancin for real
(Disc jock')
Theater holdin' mass appeal
(Jock)

(Disc jock)
You can't get enough still
So here's another dose for you to feel
Put ya body in it

Come on Squat, come on Squat
Come on Squat, come on Squat
Come on Squat, come on Squat
Come on Squat, come on Squat

I'm feelin' good, damn good but also confused
This stuff from hip-hop that's bein' misused
It's desirin', acquirin', tryin' to be like Iverson
If it means backstabbin' and also conspirin'

Now, the people in the front, you do the bump, bump
The people in the back, they're not the whack, whack
The people in the middle, come on and wiggle, wiggle
And the people on the side, we can all take a ride

In my VW I done swung an ep' or two
The rear in my hatchback y'all know I scratched that
Here to haystack, keep it rosy in the Rolls
Skiddin' out to place my vote at the polls for Ad Rock

Well, I'm the the toe tapper, yes the hand clapper
From the middle school like the educated rapper
I'm known as an occupational MC
You think I lose sleep if you sleep on me?

It's the rock solid, pilot, here to fly
(Rock)
Reachin' elevations too far for the eye
(Eye)
Miraculous beats over breaks in these packages
Seen and all the types
(All over the globe)

Who thinks our joints is aight, here's a swab for ya ear
(To clean out ya lobe)
And listen to a few views
From two crews spittin' for the art of it
We ain't takin' over but damn sure takin' part of it

Started it ever since we minced meat
You Sloppy Joe's went and took a bit of the corn dog
Stay there, I'ma play there
('Cuz they pay there)
In the big old Santa Claus bag got discs and now we out

Signin' off, signin' off, our work is done
So come on party people
Have, have, have fun
(Have, have)

(Let it go)
Just one more time, from 'Stix N Stonz'

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e3cc98b01ca0829289c3335f84aacadc

Pump Your Fist - Lyrics - Cappadonna

Title: Pump Your Fist
Artist: Cappadonna
Composer(s): Robert F. Diggs, Darryl Robert Hill, T. Washington

Lyric:
Uhh, yeah, what, uhh, yeah
Darts of armored warfare, Deep the rhyme Caprice
Deep in levels, alibi havin' rebel could play
This competition for pounds in the state of permission
Conversation 'bout this kid Killa Bamz

You want defense, man to man
Location Shaolin New York
It ain't nuthin' to talk or walk
Get dark son, economic times to fault
Style is mangohead stagnated from soft

What the fuck you thought, we was given support?
Live from Beatdown, Shaolin success, bypass the rest
Move sixty deep, Dutch with the charm
One hundred, twenty arms, designed to unleash bombs
Holdin' dart guns in palms

One hundred divine cyphers, Killa Bamz
I pack the dart gun hate to see
Another death in the fam, uhh, yeah, what

Pump up your fist
Pump up your fist
Pump up your fist
If you love this shit

Pump up your fist
Pump up your fist
Pump up your fist
If you love this shit

Y'all confused and amusing, transfusion I'm bruising
Meth-Tical illusions, salutin' my blade
Tongue blade of fury, nurse the wound leary weary
Teary fear me, clearly, the pearl drop

Time stop, holdin' shop, shockwave be brave
Ghetto came style is maim out to lunch
Out to crunch munch rhyme foods, my life reflect the jewel
My life control the cruise, ten deadly touches too

Grip the Dutches move, swing rough to cut ya
Is the one to seek philosophy in crutches
You disbelieve, in the T
Truth equal king Islam truth heard alive, Tekitha
Bust the cypher on the Gods, bust the cypher on the Gods

Pump up your fist
Pump up your fist
Pump up your fist
If you love this shit

Pump up your fist
Pump up your fist
Pump up your fist
If you love this shit

Vanglorious darts, brown skinned with the pen
Pioneer shift from the beginning to the end
Whatever I do, y'all imitate try to come close
But can't come straight, I branch out

Terrorize scenes, split tracks, split hats
Bare facts, guns, crazy funds, a thousand sons
That'll rain on your gang, you're too plain
My dope is uncut, high level high like a plane

Bigger bite bigger mic underground
Beneath these streets, W T C, leaky leak
Time meet, Chi meet, ain't nuttin' sweet
Pakistan, Iran clan is like Christ

Word to Poltergeist, smash every tape
Deep thoughter, out of order, off
Seven thirty, bugged like psycho from the Bronx
Wild like fat pen child to be the rap Lawrence Martin

Eyes like lills, mescaline pills
Three bills worth of darts, pump the heart
Bottom of the chart, slug art closin you in once again
It's the all time great, demonstrate, vocabulary execution

Executive approachin', Tang a demonstration
Pillage incorporated, first place
A Thai clean like a plant, eight time writer champ
Lamp on the beatbreak, camp on verses

Cheat on producers, men go working
Rhymes make a mill-in, born Park Hill'n
Internal lyrics, expose the profane
Vote for Cappadonna and your whole life'll change

Pump up your fist
Pump up your fist
Pump up your fist
If you love this shit

Pump up your fist
Pump up your fist
Pump up your fist
If you love this shit

Pump up your fist
Pump up your fist
Pump up your fist
If you love this shit

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619b1496435228aa1efae04cac970e82

Friction - Lyrics - Inspectah Deck

Title: Friction
Artist: Inspectah Deck
Composer(s): Jason Hunter, Robert Jr. Diggs

Lyric:
Is you ready? Back by popular demand
Murderous specialist tactics
Wu-Tang Clan, no rehearsal or practice
Niggaz ain't ready for this, niggaz ain't ready for this
Niggaz ain't ready for this

Chrome dips beamin' off July sun rays
Trees are fade, blendin' with the side burn shades
Cotton club status, clientel, SL, heavy jewel
Niggaz jail, young niggaz screw well

Swingin' like Smokey on the slow beat
Shiny walker hold me, closely as I mosey on the low key
If you don't know by now, you'll never know me
You know me, I swing it to the young ins and the OG's

Witnessed by notary public, certified rough shit
Does it feel good, how was it?
Gritty like the subway tracks
My protocol permanate like graffiti on the project walls

On the AWOL, alias Jamal Duval
Roam through the universe, plans of roamin' it all
In the meantime, in between time, we shine
Dangerous minds travel on this uphill climb

If you want some, get some, this is it, son, this one
Make 'em feel the friction
Guaranteed hit, son, miss none
Flip one, you better bring your big gun

Some niggaz I'd rather not spar minds with
They can't simulate my thoughts or fuck with
Creative testosterone, mic-phone calms
The menopausable hormone quakage
Trapped like estrogen, we makin', all of the above

Supremely I hold my shit, when I run, I hesitate to stomp the come
Bring water from the brain, nigga
They tried to send me back, but still I came
Tera form mind frame contains elements of iron which began steel

Healin' men life, Allah just brought me forth to bust mine
This time I spare no one, poison sword seed technique
Breathe the earth, take the head of those and feed 'em to the universe
Blessed with volts of electric, life threatnin' segments, it's hectic

If you want some, get some, this is it, son, this one
Make 'em feel the friction
Guaranteed hit, son, miss none
Flip one, you better bring your big gun

Poetry in motion, east to west coastin'
Overseas blowin' with lines tightly woven
Still goin' full speed, pullin' g's
Tryin' to eat 'til my mouth gets too full to feed

I excel, cast spells similar to Merlin
Mic surgeon, hang like Dr. J. Erving
Splurg inner city like uncensored version
Mergin' with the fast lane, stained with the urban

Word in the street, his work was dirt teeth
Synthetically weak, make the fans start beef
Any comeback attempts would only be in repeats
They soon fall off, be mentally lost beyond reach

My technique's heat leaves a permanent crease
Plant my 2 feet, shootin' with the quick release
Never cease fire from a street called Desire
The sire, disturbin' the peace with c-ciphers

Who dare comes amongst and tries to peep it
The secret of the deadly art, then leak it
Snakes, leeches surround the righteous
I link the diversion shot, then slip with the swiftness

The weaver raindrop, leavin' the eye confused
Understandin' blurred, cloudy electrical storms occur
From the Masta, classical head bang slang

The deaf tone rises like the blind and dumb
Lickin' shots at the microphone, Iron Lung
We the first to set off shit, last to run
Who want some, come and get some, motherfucker

If you want some, get some, this is it, son, this one
Make 'em feel the friction
Guaranteed hit, son, miss none
Flip one, you better bring your big guns

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b333dc9cc21bda9393fe2ba52b4fa104

You Get Worked - Lyrics - From Chaos - 311

Title: You Get Worked
Album: From Chaos
Artist: 311
Composer(s): Chad Sexton, Doug Martinez, Nick Hexum

Lyric:
This is happening, this here is life
Days spent pondering, truth is a knife
Respect due to those who have caught it
Dedicated to our friends who have sought it

This is happening, this here is life
Days spent pondering, truth is a knife
Respect due to those who have caught it
Dedicated to our friends who have sought it

Brainstorm, superseding the norm
When we come together, new planet is born
You revel in the chaos when people are torn
And then you come to find out your welcome is worn

We are advancing and retracting visionaries
Really here, it's not imaginary
The way you work your mind, you find it's an art
Where you feel it most, you feel in your heart

Everybody gets confused
Delusions are everywhere
Buy into fakeness, you'll feel used
Double talk fills the air

Looking all over for happiness
I've got the will to live
It's in front of you right now, don't you feel stressed?
Falls through my hands live a sieve

I'm on a new high with a pen and a pad
And for fun I attend a jam that's super bad
At the same time give it all that I have
Whether you're square or the coolest lad

Eatin' up my people, purgin' their words
Jammies take flight like Icarus birds
Drop on you and you get hurt
'Cause if you're under the rock, you get worked

Say, what gives, are you after me?
Breakin' me down, won't you let me be?
Won't be having none of your mind control
It ain't gonna work on me, no more

I said, what gives, are you after me?
Breakin' me down, won't you let me be?
Won't be having none of your mind control
It ain't gonna work on me, no more

Woo, ha, ha, you get worked

If you don't watch your back
People are scheming on you
Exploiting all the things you lack
They'll do what they have to do

Your good will is something they'll crack
How many times will they bust?
Your originality, they will hack
Don't know just who you can trust

I'm on a new high with a pen and a pad
And for fun, I attend a jam that's super bad
At the same time give it all that I have
Whether you're square or the coolest lad

Eatin' up my people, purgin' their words
Jammies take flight like Icarus birds
Drop on you and you get hurt
'Cause if you're under the rock, you get worked

Yeah, you get worked, yeah, you get worked
Yeah, you get worked, yeah, you get worked

Say, what gives, are you after me?
Breakin' me down, won't you let me be?
Won't be having none of your mind control
It ain't gonna work on me, no more
You get worked

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2da6b7ed24252ccc5e558ffcb11470bb

Nazareth Savage - Lyrics - Street's Disciple - Nas

Title: Nazareth Savage
Album: Street's Disciple
Artist: Nas
Composer(s): Salaam Remi, Barry White, Nasir Jones

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

Lyric:
I had bad chicks that blow cum bubbles like bubblegum
Plus they ass lick, summer house, be sippin' rum
Layin' lazy in the recliner, couple days in my ashtray
Smoke signals from the haze
I stick my finger through it, the ring of smoke broke
That symbolize weak guys, pop the strong link off
The infrastructure cave in, amazin'
I ain't have to read the Art of War to slay men

Serve niggaz, bird niggaz speakin' reckless
When they momma love the kid's records, I've made you gutless
You don't know struggle, throw couple shells at you
Hell grabs you, nail stabs a hand of the Nasirine
I carried the cross to help you afford that plasma screen
Gave you chumps a path to walk
Hold my hand, I'm a guide you like the O.G.
But don't talk, don't get it confused

'Cause none y'all can fit in my shoes
Y'all made of chemicals, artificial accents
God'll forgive you bastards
Only if ya'll repent to the Nazareth Savage

I squeeze nipples like pimples to get the puss, get it?
Form a crew, swallow forty cal' bullets after dinner's finished
Wash it down with a shot of tequila, pocket full'a scrilla
Can't come close to Francis Coppola, Samson, no Delilah
You're pint-sized, I'm mic's eyes
With the gladiator tattoos on it
You scared to look too long at
Sit on a don's lap tell you a story, shorty

Spicy like lories, chicken heads and orgies
Criminals that draw heat in their late forties
Drug habits, love grabbin' kids up like yours
Sendin' you a picture of them in they drawers with black eyes
Savage guys, you hire Magnum P.I.'s to bag up my guys
Said you was a thug with a good disguise
Try to protect your cabbage
You runnin' from the Nazareth Savage

Son's backward flows, they say mine is very scary
Smell fear like a canine that finds buried babies
And all of y'all wear that same aroma
How to blow on your eighth L.P, I'll show ya
You're whack, nigga, face it
In the history of the game, you have no placement
Liquor and weed just massacred their mind
Or the celebrity or they couldn't change with time

So now they run they mouth
But when the sun go south, the guns come out
My cavalry woulda been threw ten in your skin
Casualty you don't wanna be, don't want it with me, straight savage

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51a45375cbdf769e1acfb4e2f9dabff4

Dangerous Mindz - Lyrics - Gravediggaz

Title: Dangerous Mindz
Artist: Gravediggaz
Composer(s): Anthony Ian Berkeley, Selwyn Bougard, Arnold Ethen Hamilton, Robert Diggs

Lyric:
I got stress on my brain that causes chest pains
Inside the best frames, ghetto blood clots is scored by slug shots
And drug spots, well, if you're too poor to move out
Or get a new house, it's like livin' in a war, walkin' through shootouts

And you doubt God exists, when hard fists
Be poundin' on your head like jackhammers
You're trapped in the black drama, you hear the laughter
Seconds after that you fade out, you're played out, you're laid out

Your heart nearly gave out, you're lucky that you made out
With just a few scars when the beating ends
The streets let ya breathe again
But evil men, will soon be on the receiving end

Of Universal Law, I'm callin' on the meek and the poor
To fight back and never forfeit the day you have to go to war
With forces that are armed upon the seven continental borders
A mental fortress is essentials to absorb this

My sword hits the human orb until it orbits
In the art of war kids see Grym Reap be morbid
Since pieces of the lost civilization in the past
Had my photographs etched inside of pyramids

To laugh at this revelation, without 365 days of concentration
And twenty-four hour meditation, would be foolishly pagan
I'm ancient as 'Amen', see I stay Grym
Throwin' fools in in a pit full of pit bulls to be shaken

Or strapped to the crossroads of Hell and inner sin
Which trap the sinners in to sell such a Sing-Sing
I bring Grym tidings, tidal your wave all not exciting
Stop riding the dick, start writin' your own shit

'Cause I stick figures, they think they fat and can't rap wind blast
I make 'em Slim Fast, lookin' like stick figures
I'm all that, I bag chips at concerts and shows
Get more panties than hoes that boost Victoria Secret clothes

Foes is tagged like ex-foes toes at the coroner's
Kids with cold feet rise and fall like the barometer
Grym will mentally chop your career
See, shit is locked down here, like penitentiary blocks in tears

Escape outta your ducts, every time you hear my name
You better duck fate or catch a fuckin' face full of duct tape
You get smacked like a trick that sniffed off her money
Then smoked like Rzarector with the blunts dipped in honey

Rotate your head like a gyro, my hair grows in knotty spirals
Feet resembles Christ's description from the Bible
Water-walker, immune to all physical torture
Pull out fast in a Porsche upon a double-crosser

My penis rise up in the morning like a Phoenix
And blast iron cells into a low blooded 'nemic
The imperial material's venereal
MC's get murdered in serial, you can't fuck with the material

Unorthodox paradox, my shit is seen wide-screen Magnavox
Grabs thought like Doctor Octopus
'Cause war like the grandson of Kush
I'm hangin' devil's heads on a evergreen bush

Sugar-frosted sorceresses, bitches get exhausted
Pussy lips be drippin', like leaky faucets
Undercover C-Cyphers sprayed up like windshield wipers
While I'm guzzlin' Piper's, changin' my son's shitty-ass diapers

Dime piece trapped in sync like many time piece
You get stampeded by the wildabeast
A rap dast' plus tracks black like Chow Yun Fat
Oppositional forces get their eardrums flat

Common denominator, I swing the mic saber like Vader
He was fooled by the interpreatation made from a traitor
MC's get their wigs blown, trounced off my fistbone
Choked from my death, every time they break a wishbone

Eventually, I knew the whole world would mention me
Potentially, I have the key to make G's
MC's breeze on my tracks, I rock the root with the trees
Killa bees spread rapid like diseases

See it's, like the second comin' of Jesus, of Nazareth
Be fabulous, raise the dead crowd up like Lazarus
Hazardous vocabulary attacks be beautiful
Acoustical notes we provoke, it comes out musically dope

Niggaz realize they just can't cope
They're here, bustin' out the head resembles fire and smoke Loc
I blast watts in circuits like General Monk-Monk was Turkish
My science is divided deep into your central nervous

Pervert area codes peep this murder
I'm boxed-in, suckin' hologram tits, inhalin' oxygen
Parallel world of crab niggas and sea shells mix
I pierce my dick and sword right through you pelvics

I'm hell stricken bomb, wrapped in trees of palm
Physical existence is descendants of Allah
I travel at high rates, weaker men are primates
That either migrate or get burnt to the stake

I feed off lyrical light beams of amphetamine
My terminology is panatomic like lobotomy
Crazy el loco, gas niggaz like Sunoco
Flush 'em like Presto, Blast in your chest bone

I raise from the shore, like Sodom and Gomorrah
With traction, flashin' a 4-wheel drive Ford Explorer
While mucus lies within the center of the Rubik's
The roots of the wine induced the enzymes inside your nucleus

Turmoil boilin' appointed, niggaz rubbin' off my style like a ointment
Lost in the Sahara, From trial and error
Confused with 3 meals for Sister Sara

Bearer, digestin' minerals in abundance
Because the dead is not known to return from the dungeons

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24c21eaa85b8d0f51838efd0b53c6a6e

Something Fresh - Lyrics - Spooks

Title: Something Fresh
Artist: Spooks
Composer(s): N Giscombe, Joseph M Davis, Booker T Jackson, Chenejerai Kumanyika, Rick Dahrouge, R Carter, Irina Perez, Jerel Spruill

Lyric:
Yo yo, niggaz ain't fuckin' with this originalist
Spooks ain't bangin' like this but more real is this
Uninventiveness amaze me, say to thee lyrically
Buy from Book-T but my inferial rap sixth sense

Speaking to cats I'm bringin' 'em back like
Bruce Willis in "Mad" matter a fact I'm laughin' at cats
Who pike dad's like Kennedy dyin'
In planes flying in flames, forever blowin' up cats like Blackpump
Scorching your back and taunting your eardrum with tongues

Ming-Xia check if your mic is on
A one-two, yes, my mic is on
Hypno check if your mic is on
A one-two, yes, my mic is on
Some of these boys can't rhyme

You want proof!
The freshest group since 93 was the Spooks and, eh, Spooks
No bullshittin' last chance to start quittin' before we start trippin'
On leisure start start rippin' [unverified] I'm callin' shit
That you don't wanna witness no stopination

I know you're [unverified] try to fuckin'
With this beautiful bliss ma'mmy spook click opuses
Eat you for breakfeast and plus I'll blow you a death kiss
Why would you set this objected
You can't achieve cease and assist my click
Came to make you believe

I know y'all lookin' for something fresh
Something that y'all haven't heard yet
Something original and subliminal
Let me hit it, yo, let me hear ya say ho

I know y'all lookin' for something fresh
Something that y'all haven't heard yet
Something original and subliminal
Let me hit it, yo, let me hear ya say ho

You may need a translation for the knowledge that goes
Over the peoples heads in the population
Spookdom agency spies
Unveiling the lies of false prophets
Of rhyme paralyze the superficial

Spoonfed James which we reprimand
The media commands
Propaganda enough times and you begin
To believe recycled wack
MC's and feel you up R&B button
Punching producers with juvenile beats
Demean creativity but we got the remedy

I know y'all lookin' for something fresh
Something that y'all haven't heard yet
Something original and subliminal
Let me hit it, yo, let me hear ya say ho

The unorthodox rhyme execution that Spooks use may leave you
The consumer mildly confused but actually you need to relax
And stop anticipating the same rap patterns and drumtracks
Adapted and practiced by a lot of our favourite acts too much

Integrity is getting lost in the art hip hop is not about money and
Bitches so I'm a start expanding your horizons surprise we got
Collages specializing in vibin with squads liver than yours
Periodically see we like having a friendly but our lyrical sparring partners
Always take it to far

Aye, yo Book check if your mic is on
A one-two, yes, my mic is on
Wat-Water check if your mic is on
Yo son, you know my mic is on

My momma used to say write them rhymes young man
My momma used to say don't give money to the hoes
My momma used to say make sure it's something fresh
I got what y'all lookin' for as I got the neuro AKA wa-wa-war

In [unverified] I'm like kids in a schoolbus
When I flip you'll be like
(You sank my battleship)
I get kickin' and jumpin first like
Chicken and Douglas sounded up with
How biscuits sounds of

I know y'all lookin' for something fresh
Something that y'all haven't heard yet
Something original and subliminal
Let me hit it, yo, let me hear ya say ho

I know y'all lookin' for something fresh
Something that y'all haven't heard yet
Something original and subliminal
Let me hit it, yo, let me hear ya say ho

I know y'all lookin' for something fresh
Something that y'all haven't heard yet
Something original and subliminal
Let me hit it, yo, let me hear ya say ho

I know y'all lookin' for something fresh
Something that y'all haven't heard yet
Something original and subliminal
Let me hit it, yo, let me hear ya say ho

I know y'all lookin' for something fresh
Something that y'all haven't heard yet
Something original and subliminal
Let me hit it, yo, let me hear ya say ho

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015e6f8877598014c33cd2075d0c2185

Me - Lyrics - Exodus - Ja Rule

Title: Me
Album: Exodus
Artist: Ja Rule
Composer(s): I Lorenzo, M Mcgregor, J Atkins

Lyric:
I know you niggaz ain't fuckin' with me

How dare these niggaz try to fuckin' hate on me?
Come out and make records sound just like me
But nobody does this here quite like me
Now let me tell ya a little something 'bout me

Pops tags, things fresh to death like me
Who pulls more whips out the stash than me
Y'all bitches wanna ride, come on, it's on me
I guess it's my time, all eyes is on me

Man everybody wanna rhyme like Rule, sing like Rule
Talk some shit to get they name in the newspapers
Haters never pay they dues
Always got they feet in somebody shoes

Walk with me or ride this old Bentley with the rims you can sit in
Or the Enzo with them TV's that's hidden
I stay in menages with various women
Huh, I'm just kiddin', that's not how I'm livin'

The realest, the nigga in the realest state
I got real estates in different states, go figure
'Cause I ain't singin' "You'se a Gold Digger"
But bitch, you ain't fuckin' with no broke niggaz

That's why I ride, ain't you see I put you in the CLS
We on the phone your voice sound like sex, yes
There's no real way to stop me, that's why y'all copy
I know you niggaz ain't fuckin' with me

How dare these niggaz try to fuckin' hate on me?
Come out and make records sound just like me
But nobody does this here quite like me
Now let me tell ya a little something 'bout me

Pops tags, things fresh to death like me
Who pulls more whips out the stash than me
Y'all bitches wanna ride, come on, it's on me
I guess it's my time, all eyes is on me

Yeah, I know, one more gain, bitch, you better come on in
Relax a while, sip on Hypno and Henn
I like your style, you're so old school
In them Sassoon Vidals, fifty four eleven

Reebok classics remind me of '87 when
Niggaz was playing with blocks like little kids and
Even though we men we still big wheelin'
Still cop cribs, six beds, four baths, high ceilings

All of the art of drug-dealin' 'cause every mil
Is two for me, when it's all tax-free
Pray for God's children, all except for me
I'ma walk in the path the Lord has paved for me

One foot at a time, niggaz follow my footsteps
Put the world on my shoulders, leave one set of footprints
Man, y'all motherfuckers can't stop me, that's why y'all copy
I know ya'll niggaz ain't fuckin' with me

How dare these niggaz try to fuckin' hate on me?
Come out and make records sound just like me
But nobody does this here quite like me
Now let me tell ya a little something 'bout me

Pops tags, things fresh to death like me
Who pulls more whips out the stash than me
Y'all bitches wanna ride, come on, it's on me
I guess it's my time, all eyes is on me

I know what niggaz to do right, can't do no wrong
And everything's alright till everything goes wrong
No pot to piss in, no shoulder to cry on
You get to thinkin' why can't we let bygones be bygones?

Rule the icon, who killed the industry like I-pods
Had these niggaz runnin' like track stars
Except runnin' backwards when I sit back rollin' the backwoods
Loadin' my trey-deuce for them niggaz that act hood

Ridin' my six-deuce uptown, I'm so hood
Bitches love the coupes when them doors swing upwards
Money long, I'm puttin' from the green like T-Woods
Hard white is not to be confused with white good

White gold should never be perceived as platinum
And cubic-zirconium never gon' shine like diamonds
'Cause, no matter how hard they copy, they still not me
Y'all bitch, niggaz ain't fuckin' with me

How dare these niggaz try to fuckin' hate on me?
Come out and make records sound just like me
But nobody does this here quite like me
Now let me tell ya a little something 'bout me

Pops tags, things fresh to death like me
Who pulls more whips out the stash than me
Y'all bitches wanna ride, come on, it's on me
I guess it's my time, all eyes is on me, me, me

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