Z - What They Gonna Do Part Ii - Lyrics - The Blueprint 2: The Gift And The Curse - Jay

Title: Z - What They Gonna Do Part Ii
Album: The Blueprint 2: The Gift And The Curse
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Darrell Branch, Shawn Carter

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Lyric:
Oh yeah, uh oh
Y'all know who it is
(He's back)

If you with me throw the diamond up one time
Ladies, if you with me grind to the base line
Niggas don't be scared to grab her from behind
And make her show out her wild side, sneak out the back side

What they gone do with me
Got money got broads got a crew with me
Willis bananas clips, I got a slew with me
Get down and lay down and get a shoe with me

Now how the fuck they gone deal with me
I ain't goin' nowhere they got to deal with me
Got the whole BK ready to kill with me
You scared muthafucker, keep it real with me
Keep it real with me

Now what the fuck they gone say to me
Got the clap, ya mean, all day with me
Cut, ya mean, don't play with me
Cut, ya mean, stay with me

Don't lose me, y'all
Please don't confuse me with Dog, I'm different
I brought it back for a livin'
33's O's was on the bitch, back like pippen

3 she could keep for herself and distribute
36 O's in the key you do the addition
Before Mitchell and Ness did it
I was movin' birds like an Orioles fitted
I'm Cal Ripken Jr. let's get it

If you with me throw the diamond up one time
Ladies, if you with it grind to the baseline
Homey, don't be scared to grab it from behind
And make her show out her wild side, poke out her wild side

If you with me throw the diamond up one time
Ladies, if you with it grind to the baseline
Homey, don't be scared to grab it from behind
And make her show out her wild side, poke out her wild side

Mommie what they gone say to you
Got your hair did with your favorite shoes
Tell him don't play with you, get him away from you
You need a balla like I, call him like I, see him like naw

Move over, y'all amateurs
No, you not ballin', that's pro am shit
Oh, stop callin' that's ho man shit
Stop fallin' asleep that's old man shit

I stands up in it like a champ up in it
Be up been in it so long , get my calls transferred in it
No more minute man in it, get my sound scared
Be the S with the marketing plans in it

If you with me throw the diamond up one time
Ladies, if you with it grind to the baseline
Homey, don't be scared to grab it from behind
And make her show out her wild side, poke out her wild side

If you with us throw the diamond up one time
Ladies, if you with it grind to the baseline
Homey, don't be scared to grab it from behind
And make her show out her wild side, poke out her wild side

What they gone do
Yo got starch in your flow
I flow too many ways
He's got an arch in my flow

All sorts of flow, Rembrandt and Rilkie I am up with the flow
Even if your filthy got an apartment to flow
Take it lightly, I can darken in the flow
They way I put it together, tear 'em apart with the flow

I'm too smart with the flow
You just started the flow
Stop it youngin'
You 106 and Parki'n the flow

I'm a pro, as you see, I am off the charts with the flow
Actually I'm number one on the charts with the flow
In some places they say that I am God with the flow
Like my office but they are bias to rebark with the flow, oh no

I am the new spirit I am y'all with the flow
Trouble man dare I say I am more with the flow
I come apart but I evolve with the flow
Crossover, slam dunk, rucker park with the flow, Young

If you with me throw the diamond up one time
Ladies, if you with it grind to the baseline
Homey, don't be scared to grab it from behind
And make her show out her wild side, poke out her wild side

If you with us throw the diamond up one time
Ladies, if you with it grind to the baseline
Homey, don't be scared to grab it from behind
And make her show out her wild side, poke out her wild side

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0a94a9273450807131e9e968d93b9848

Z - What They Gonna Do - Lyrics - The Blueprint 2: The Gift & The Curse - Jay

Title: Z - What They Gonna Do
Album: The Blueprint 2: The Gift & The Curse
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Sean Paul Henriques, Shawn Carter, Timothy Mosley

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

Lyric:
Yo, yo, yo
Yo, yo, yo
Yo, yo, yo
Show out her wild side
Stick out her backside

If you with me, throw the diamond up one time
Ladies, if you with me, just grind to the bass line
Homey, don't be scared to grab her from behind
And make her show out her wild side
Push out the backside

Now what the fuck they gon' do with me
Got money, got broads, got a crew with me
Real as banana clips, I got a Sue with me
Get down or lay down nigga to shoot with me

Now how the fuck they gon' deal with me
I ain't goin' nowhere, they gotta deal with me
Got the whole BK ready to kill with me
You scared motherfucker, keep it real with me, keep it real with me

Now what the fuck they gon say to me
Got to clap, yi mean all day with me, clap, yi mean
Don't play with me, clap, yi mean
Stay with me, don't lose me y'all

And please don't confuse me with Dog, I'm different
I bought it back for a living
33 O's on a bitch back like Pippen
Three she can keep for herself and distribute

36 O's and a ki, you do the addition
Before Mitchell and Ness did it
I was moving birds like a Oriole fitted
I'm Cal Ripken Jr. let's get it

If you with me, throw the diamond up one time
Ladies, if you with me, just grind to the bass line
Homey, don't be scared to grab her from behind
And make her show out her wild side
Push out the backside

If you with me, throw the diamond up one time
Ladies, if you with me, just grind to the bass line
Homey, don't be scared to grab her from behind
And make her show out her wild side
Push out the backside

Hon' what they gon' say to you
Got your hair did and your favorite shoes
Tell 'em don't play with you, get 'em away from you
You need a baller like I, call 'em like I, see 'em like naa

Move over y'all amateurs
No, you not balling that's Pro-Am shit
Oh, stop calling that's hoe-man shit
Stop falling asleep that's old man shit

I stands up in it like a champ up in it
Be up in it so long, get my calls transferred in it
No more minute man in it
Get my Sound scan, BDS and Market and Glance in it

If you with me, throw the diamond up one time
Ladies, if you with me, just grind to the bass line
Homey, don't be scared to grab her from behind
And make her show out her wild side
Push out the backside

If you with me, throw the diamond up one time
Ladies, if you with me, just grind to the bass line
Homey, don't be scared to grab her from behind
And make her show out her wild side
Push out the backside

What they gon do', you got starch in your flow
I flow too many ways, got a arch in my flow
All sorts of flow, Rembrandt, Rilkey
I am art with the flow
Even if I'm filthy, you gotta pardon the flow

Niggas taking it lightly, had to darken the flow
Way I put it together, tear 'em apart with the flow
I'm too smart with the flow, you just started the flow
Stop it youngin', you 106th and Park with the flow

I am pro, as you see I'm off the charts with the flow
Actually I'm number one on the charts with the flow
In some places they say this, I am God with the flow
Like my office, but they're biased, too involved with the flow

Oh no, I am the youth spirit, I am y'all with the flow
Troubled man, dare I say, I am Mar with the flow
I come up hard but I evolve with the flow
Crossover, slam dunk, Rucker Park with the flow

If you with me, throw the diamond up one time
Ladies, if you with me, just grind to the bass line
Homey, don't be scared to grab her from behind
And make her show out her wild side
Push out the backside

If you with me, throw the diamond up one time
Ladies, if you with me, just grind to the bass line
Homey, don't be scared to grab her from behind
And make her show out her wild side
Push out the backside

Yo, yo, yo
Yo, yo, yo
Yo, yo, yo
...

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ab3d56b5600f4346ac4da3e90ed13ee9

Deal With The Ladies - Lyrics - John Denver

Title: Deal With The Ladies
Artist: John Denver
Composer(s): John Deutschendorf

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Lyric:
I like to deal with the ladies
I like to give ?em a real hard time
Like to make ?em sigh
Like to make ?em cry over me

I like to swing with the good times
I like to have me a real live ball
Doin? what I can like a dirty old man
(Tee hee)

Like to have ?em just hangin? around
Wondering where I?ve been
Like to see ?em with their big brown eyes
Just a drinkin? me in

I like to deal with the ladies
I like to hang ?em up on my line
Treat ?em kinda rough
But they never got enough of me
Rat a tat tat tat tat

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22bfd439f3cb0de40f982c644d9a3dcd

Senorita - Lyrics - Justified - Justin Timberlake

Title: Senorita
Album: Justified
Artist: Justin Timberlake
Composer(s): Chad Hugo, Justin Timberlake, Pharrell L Williams

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

Lyric:
Ladies and gentlemen
It's my pleasure to introduce to you
He's a friend of mine, yes, yes I am
And he goes by the name, Justin

All the way from Memphis, Tennessee
And he's got something special for y'all tonight
He's gonna sing a song for y'all about this girl
Come in right here?
Yeah, come on

On that sunny day
Didn't know I'd meet
Such a beautiful girl
Walking down the street

Seen those bright brown eyes
With tears coming down
She deserves a crown
But where is it now? Mama, listen

Senorita, I feel for you
You deal with things that you don't have to
He doesn't love ya, I can tell by his charm
But you could feel this real love
If you just lay in my

Running fast in my mind
Girl, won't you slow it down?
If we carry on this way
This thing might leave the ground

How would you like to fly?
That's how my queen should ride
But you still deserve the crown
Well, hasn't it been found?
Mama, listen

Senorita, I feel for you
You deal with things, that you don't have to
He doesn't love ya, I can tell by his charm
But you could feel this real love
If you just lay in my

Ah, ah, arms
Ah, ah, arms
Ah, ah, arms
Ah, ah, arms

When I look into your eyes
I see something that money can't buy
And I know if you give us a try
I'll work harder for you, girl
And no longer will you ever have to cry

Senorita, I feel for you
You deal with things that you don't have to
He doesn't love ya, I can tell by his charm
But you could feel this real love
If you just lay in my

Ah, ah, arms
Ah, ah, arms
Ah, ah, arms
Ah, ah, arms

When I look into your eyes
I see something that money can't buy
And I know if you give us a try
I'll work harder for you, girl, you won't have to cry

Now, listen, I wanna try some right now
See they don't do this anymore
I'ma sing something
And I want the guys to sing with me, they go

It feels like something's heating up, can I leave with you?
And then the ladies go
I don't no but I'm thinking 'bout really leaving with you

Guys sing
It feels like something's heating up, can I leave with you?
And ladies
I don't no but I'm thinking 'bout really leaving with you

Feels good, don't it? Come on
It feels like something's heating up, can I leave with you?
Yeah, ladies
I don't no but I'm thinking 'bout really leaving with you

Sing it one more time
It feels like something's heating up, can I leave with you?
Ladies
I don't no but I'm thinking 'bout really leaving with you

It feels like something's heating up, can I leave with you?
Ladies
I don't know but I'm thinking 'bout really leaving with you?

Gentlemen, good night
Ladies, good morning
And that's it

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c9acc3efbb16afedeb1bb4b374713f37

I Beat You To It (Turn The Party Out) - Lyrics - B2k

Title: I Beat You To It (Turn The Party Out)
Artist: B2k
Composer(s): Dreux Frederic, T Oliver, Omari Grandberry, J Houston, J Jones, D Thornton, K Kessee, Marques Houston

Lyric:
Yeah, yo
You kno' what I'm sayin'
A lot of people heard the last album
And really didn't understand
What B2K wuss all about
But I'm a tell y'all
We ain't had no songs
That wuss jus? gansta on our album
This right here
Is about to be gansta
You sure?
You kno' what I'm sayin' "Boog"?
Alright let's see
Check it out

Hot spots
I bang like little rock
Step up in the club
And watch the beat stop

Hey shorty, can you do that dance in my drop
Pop that and make that booty clap like flip flops
Like the Flintstones
We can make the bed rock

Yes this little boy got a house on the hill
Call me Montell, I got so many hot wheels
Now you know what I'm 'bout
Let's turn this party out, alright

Everybody put your hands up if you feel me
All the ladies come party with me
Fellas grab your girl
And let's turn this party out

Everybody put your hands up if you feel me
All the ladies come party with me
Fellas grab your girl
And let's turn this party out

So much sex appeal
Girl that thing can't be real
Baby tell me what's the deal
All I wanna know is can we chill

You far from average
Love your bad habits
The way that thing move
You making me want to grab it

Lets leave right now
Lets stop playing around
There's a lot I want to do for you
How that sound

Your's a cute
Scarf over your doobe
The way that gucci
Look good on your booty

What's really good
Can I floss you in my hood
Tell you things
That make you knock on wood

So make it happen
If you want to handle it
Tonight, I'm a good man
But tomorrow, I'm scandals

So grab your coat
Let's make a exit
And if your mom is home
Girl we hittin' da Lexus

Everybody put your hands up if you feel me
All the ladies come party with me
Fellas grab your girl
And let's turn this party out

Everybody put your hands up if you feel me
All the ladies come party with me
Fellas grab your girl
And let's turn this party out

Everybody put your hands up if you feel me
All the ladies come party with me
Fellas grab your girl
And let's turn this party out

Everybody put your hands up if you feel me
All the ladies come party with me
Fellas grab your girl
And let's turn this party out

We don't ride around in trunks
We ride around in Bentley bus
Don't other crews recognize
Y'all can't fade us

When platinum status droppin' heat
Man you already know
B2K and Chris stokes always equal big doe
We in a four point six with four Asian chicks

Man all this ice around my neck and wrist
I'm like show me baby girl
How you do dat Derre
Gotta dem all saying fizz can I play in your hair

Check it out
Let me drop dat knowledge on y'all real quick
A lot of people think B2K is you know what I'm sayin'
Is all about imaging

And dancing and stuff like dat
The people that are talking like dat probably don't have an image
So if you need one, come to T.U.G we got a lot of dem
We will give you one, not a problem

'Cause we focus man
Once again, we focus man
I know I said dat on the last track
But I wanted to get my point across
Round two
Razz-B where you at
Right here

Everybody put your hands up if you feel me
All the ladies come party with me
Fellas grab your girl
And let's turn this party out

Everybody put your hands up if you feel me
All the ladies come party with me
Fellas grab your girl
And let's turn this party out

Everybody put your hands up if you feel me
All the ladies come party with me
Fellas grab your girl
And let's turn this party out

Everybody put your hands up if you feel me
All the ladies come party with me
Fellas grab your girl
And let's turn this party out

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b48611a5340c646b1a038ee2726c1c6b

I Beat You To It - Lyrics - B2k

Title: I Beat You To It
Artist: B2k
Composer(s): Dreux Frederic, T Oliver, Omari Grandberry, J Houston, J Jones, D Thornton, K Kessee, Marques Houston

Lyric:
Yeah, yo
You kno' what I'm sayin'
A lot of people heard the last album
And really didn't understand
What B2K wuss all about
But I'm a tell y'all
We ain't had no songs
That wuss jus? gansta on our album
This right here
Is about to be gansta
You sure?
You kno' what I'm sayin' "Boog"?
Alright let's see
Check it out

Hot spots
I bang like little rock
Step up in the club
And watch the beat stop

Hey shorty, can you do that dance in my drop
Pop that and make that booty clap like flip flops
Like the Flintstones
We can make the bed rock

Yes this little boy got a house on the hill
Call me Montell, I got so many hot wheels
Now you know what I'm 'bout
Let's turn this party out, alright

Everybody put your hands up if you feel me
All the ladies come party with me
Fellas grab your girl
And let's turn this party out

Everybody put your hands up if you feel me
All the ladies come party with me
Fellas grab your girl
And let's turn this party out

So much sex appeal
Girl that thing can't be real
Baby tell me what's the deal
All I wanna know is can we chill

You far from average
Love your bad habits
The way that thing move
You making me want to grab it

Lets leave right now
Lets stop playing around
There's a lot I want to do for you
How that sound

Your's a cute
Scarf over your doobe
The way that gucci
Look good on your booty

What's really good
Can I floss you in my hood
Tell you things
That make you knock on wood

So make it happen
If you want to handle it
Tonight, I'm a good man
But tomorrow, I'm scandals

So grab your coat
Let's make a exit
And if your mom is home
Girl we hittin' da Lexus

Everybody put your hands up if you feel me
All the ladies come party with me
Fellas grab your girl
And let's turn this party out

Everybody put your hands up if you feel me
All the ladies come party with me
Fellas grab your girl
And let's turn this party out

Everybody put your hands up if you feel me
All the ladies come party with me
Fellas grab your girl
And let's turn this party out

Everybody put your hands up if you feel me
All the ladies come party with me
Fellas grab your girl
And let's turn this party out

We don't ride around in trunks
We ride around in Bentley bus
Don't other crews recognize
Y'all can't fade us

When platinum status droppin' heat
Man you already know
B2K and Chris stokes always equal big doe
We in a four point six with four Asian chicks

Man all this ice around my neck and wrist
I'm like show me baby girl
How you do dat Derre
Gotta dem all saying fizz can I play in your hair

Check it out
Let me drop dat knowledge on y'all real quick
A lot of people think B2K is you know what I'm sayin'
Is all about imaging

And dancing and stuff like dat
The people that are talking like dat probably don't have an image
So if you need one, come to T.U.G we got a lot of dem
We will give you one, not a problem

'Cause we focus man
Once again, we focus man
I know I said dat on the last track
But I wanted to get my point across
Round two
Razz-B where you at
Right here

Everybody put your hands up if you feel me
All the ladies come party with me
Fellas grab your girl
And let's turn this party out

Everybody put your hands up if you feel me
All the ladies come party with me
Fellas grab your girl
And let's turn this party out

Everybody put your hands up if you feel me
All the ladies come party with me
Fellas grab your girl
And let's turn this party out

Everybody put your hands up if you feel me
All the ladies come party with me
Fellas grab your girl
And let's turn this party out

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d5e30ed097b17525acfce1d1677b1db7

Where Da At? - Lyrics - B.G.

Title: Where Da At?
Artist: B.G.
Composer(s): Jevor Campbell, Christopher Dorsey, James Jr. Maddox, Michael Antoine Crooms

Lyric:
What's your heart beatin' for, ha?
(You scared)
What's your heart beatin' for, ha?

Yeah
(Uhh, deez niggaz scarred)
What's up ladies and gentlemen?
(Deez bitch niggaz scared)
Boys and girls
(It's lil B. Gizzle, Homebwoi)
Collipark music
(Collipark, Chopper City)

And I'm so sick and tired of bein', sick and tired of bein'
Sick and tired of bein', sick and muh'fuckin' tired
All these pussy-ass niggaz
(I see they heart beatin')
I see it
(I know what's happenin' with 'em)
(We gon' do it like this-sheah)
C'mon

What's your heart beatin' for, ha?
(You scared)
What's your heart beatin' for, ha?

Where da at? In the club, where da at? Showin' love
Where da at? In the drop ridin' twenty-deuce dubs
Where da at? In the street, where da at? With the beat
Where da at? With da bitch still talkin' 'bout me

Where da at? In the back, where da at? In the 'llac
Where da at? In the hood still gettin' they ass jacked
Where da at? Gettin' 2-way, where da at? In the who-ay
Where da at? Talkin' bad but it's still all goo-ey

Man, I'm rollin' with the gangsters, kick it with the G's
Hustle with the hustlers I'm the heart of the streetz
Grind with the ballers, ball with the grinders
Keep it real with my clique so my whole team shiners

Ride with the riders, swim with the sharks
If I get caught I got nuttin' to say to the law
I'm built to last, ever since them niggaz killed my dad
Crackin' a pen and pad is all I had

It's get it how you live with me
Busters don't know how to deal with me, it's all real with me
All the street niggaz scared of me
All the hot girls love me they say, "Boy put that drill in me"

I come through, limo tint on the truck
I got a whole block spooked when I ride slow, puttin' it up
Got straight, Seagram's gin in my cup
I ain't gon' do ya nuttin scary-ass nigga, what'cha heart beatin' for?

What's your heart beatin' for?
(You scared)
What's your heart beatin' for, ha?

Where da at? In the club, where da at? Showin' love
Where da at? In the drop ridin' twenty-deuce dubs
Where da at? In the street, where da at? With the beat
Where da at? With da bitch still talkin' 'bout me

Where da at? In the back, where da at? In the 'llac
Where da at? In the hood still gettin' they ass jacked
Where da at? Gettin' 2-way, where da at? In the who-ay
Where da at? Talkin' bad but it's still all goo-ey

I'm in the club, post up, way in the back
Got a bottle of gin and I snuck in with the mac
Got my fresh bows on, breeze on my feet
Hoes love when I'm thuggin' in my fresh white tee

I'm 'bout whatever, Gizzle is a G
We could do it however, it don't matter to me
We can do it right here, we can take it outside
I'm young, but believe, I been 'bout mine

I just ride when it's time to ride
I grind when it's time to grind, slangin' hot when it's time to bust
Slangin' dick when it's time to fuck
I'm a Chopper City nigga, don't try your luck

You want beef? I ain't scared, nigga I'm everywhere
You don't be where you say you be, you're never there
You actin' like you 'bout it, bitch nigga you scared
I see your heart beatin', so busta break bread

What's your heart beatin' for?
(You scared)
What's your heart beatin' for, ha?

Where da at? In the club, where da at? Showin' love
Where da at? In the drop ridin' twenty-deuce dubs
Where da at? In the street, where da at? With the beat
Where da at? With da bitch still talkin' 'bout me

Where da at? In the back, where da at? In the 'llac
Where da at? In the hood still gettin' they ass jacked
Where da at? Gettin' 2-way, where da at? In the who-ay
Where da at? Talkin' bad but it's still all goo-ey

Niggaz caught in the zone, they better watch it when I'm cockin' my chrome
'Cause at clubs, yeah I slip one in your dome, you better leave me alone
I ain't no bitch, I don't talk shit on the phone
I got somethin' that just might follow you home, now ain't I dead-ass wrong

How could you react, if your brains are blown
I guess that fat bitch is singin' her song, that bitch is singin' her song
You busted wide, little boys ain't grown
Your mouth is heavy but your back ain't strong, and once again it's on

You must be smokin' on that Cheech and Chong
Think you can handle with somethin' this wrong
With somethin' this wrong
Just write it in blood, or carve it in stone
Otherwise you don't want no problems with homes
Don't want no problems with homes

You can't get rid of me, not even penitentiary
A friend of me, you need to be, I'm hotter than humidity
Without a mask, jack a nigga for his cash
Hot led make a motherfucker heart beat fast

What's your heart beatin' for?
(You scared)
What's your heart beatin' for, ha?

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626dc9f8e37a465be0e54f19b3a360b5

Fire (Remix) - Lyrics - More Street Dreams Pt. 2 : The Mixtape - Fabolous

Title: Fire (Remix)
Album: More Street Dreams Pt. 2 : The Mixtape
Artist: Fabolous
Composer(s): Joseph Anthony Budden, Melvin Glover, Nathaniel Glover, Al Jr Mclaran, Eddie Morris, Frank Ski, Justin Gregory Smith, Trevor Smith, Robert Keith Wiggins, Guy Todd Williams

Lyric:
Let me just make this statement
Loud and clear, Jersey's here
Hey, Ja, Joey
Triangle offense do it like

Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah

Maybe it's the dipped deuces, the twin Jesuses
With diamonds in them, that's clear they break gooses
Maybe 'cause I'm in they roofless or the Hypno I put in they juices
I'm the "Joe Millionaire" of rap and one of these chicks
Is gonna get picked and gonna get dicked
I'm all that and then some, y'all cats have been bums
That's pocket change, you call that an income?

Tell the way I walk that I'm doin' my thing
A lot a niggaz talk but ain't doin' a thing
Whatever come in the fall, I do in the spring
See, I told y'all I'm doin' my thing
And I'm winnin' by a landslide, damn right
Don't you see the way they point at this man's ride?
Now, look at here, I took it there
I'ma make this statement loud and clear, Brooklyn's here

That fire
Problems in the club, reach for that snub
Look dog, it's on fire
That's when you turn it up, you wanna burn it up
Come deal with them riders
Small one on my hip, when you hear the clip
You got to see fire
When it all hits the wire, we gonna light it on fire

We gonna light it on fire
We gonna light it on fire
We gonna light it on fire
We gonna light it on fire

Here with the white and the Canary cross
Bracelets to match, diamonds clear of floss
Convertible hard top in a Carrera Porsche
I'm young but I'm damn near a boss
And of course your boy ride with a thing in the stash box
Quick to hit the button, even quicker to blast shots
Nobody gonna eat, 'less we see chips
This not even funny, not the way we freak chicks

My waiters make ladies see sick
I'm "So So Def" like a J.D. remix
I got enough whips to keep switchin' up flavors
Drafted outta high school, straight into the majors
These haters, fake smiles, but they hardly like me
They hate to see me in a party icy
Clean white T, sippin' on Bacardi lightly
Suede low cut Force One caramel nightly

That fire
Problems in the club, reach for that snub
Look dog, it's on fire
That's when you turn it up, you wanna burn it up
Come deal with them riders
Small one on my hip, when you hear the clip
You got to see fire
When it all hits the wire, we gonna light it on fire

We gonna light it on fire

I got a ear for your amp it up with Jersey's answer
The chancellor standin' up for ten minutes
Man, it's tough plan, plan that's what the camma does
And Jam's son it's the new King, done with the cameras
You pop lip like you got shit
That's a minor congestion, you not sick
Now you wanna call names like Tupac did
Home boy here's a few glock clips

Still Junior like Lou Gossett, Joey, right back on
Overcharge New York to cut the lights back on
Before Bloomberg to come get me all
I send the goons that make the bad things happen in city hall
All, K's spray cats, we don't play that
She allowed to sway, why don't you say that?
Can't stop, won't stop, shots heard, one shot, gun shot
Make your lungs stop, breathe easy

That fire
Problems in the club, reach for that snub
Look dog, it's on fire
That's when you turn it up, you wanna burn it up
Come deal with them riders
Small one on my hip, when you hear the clip
You got to see fire
When it all hits the wire, we gonna light it on fire

We gonna light it on fire
We gonna light it on fire
We gonna light it on fire
We gonna light it on fire

Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah

Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah

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ce779beabda32a5036ce5413437a8302

Jeeps, Lex Coups, Bimaz &Amp; Benz - Lyrics - Lost Boyz

Title: Jeeps, Lex Coups, Bimaz &Amp; Benz
Artist: Lost Boyz
Composer(s): Osten Harvey, Terrance Kelly, Tim Patterson

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

Lyric:
Yeah, LB fam finally up in this piece
Got my mans that put me on, you know what I'm sayin'
Want a shout out to the Uptown, you know man
Word up

MCA, this is how we do everyday
Me and Freaky Tah hah
Pretty Lou, my man, Spigg Nice
We be gettin' down representin'
So this is how we go, let me let you know, how
It be, in da, G H E, double T O, rhyme name ho
They be runnin' down the line
Hey, if you hear a mistake rewind

Whose the best? Whose the worst in this here rap game?
For those who claim to be the best, I tear them out the frame
I'm representin' puttin' Queens on the map
Double springs, wit some baggy jeans when I rap
Come up with a style to make con-versital
Don't treat me like no lame, I've been in this game for awhile
I've seen alot ta come, I've seen alot a go
I've seen alot ta break, I've seen alot to blow, a yo

It's a trip to see a nigga slip
Get a grip nigga, nigga get a grip, get a
You don't even know the half of my crew
To be talking, but you're talking and you act like you knew
Yo set it, you fuckin' crossed the line and hit the border
LB fam start attacking some attacking outta order
Put on your leather gloves, and hats and get your picture mats
And get the gats just in case you take it to the stacks

Shout out to the Jeeps
It's the Lex Coups, Bimas and the Benz
To all my ladies and my men
To all my peoples in the pen, keep your head up
And to the hoods
East Coast, West Coast and World Wide
Ain't nuttin' wrong with puffin' on lai
And if you're with me let me hear you say "Right", right, right

Now a dayz, niggaz frontin' like they ill
Now bustin' caps and got a muthafuckin' things to do to show his skill
Recognize, nigga what you frontin' for
I know your style, you neva hit a blunt before
Oh, your just another in the race
Fakin' gats, takin' up space
To me your nuttin' but a needle in the hay stack
Listen kid, I've been doing this since from ways back

In the day, Ace Duce Tre
At the best, up to Zimbabwe hey
Whose the best? I want the best to come test me
So I can release some stress from my chest G
Is you down to go pound for pound
Toe to toe, blow for blow, round for round
I'm wonderin' 'coz I bring the thunder and the rain
'Causin' confusion to your brain

Shout out to the Jeeps
It's the Lex Coups, Bimas and the Benz
To all my ladies and my men
To all my peoples in the pen, keep your head up
And to the hoods
East Coast, West Coast and World Wide
Ain't nuttin' wrong with puffin' on lai
And if you're with me let me hear you say "Right", right, right

Keep the shit live for the year 95
I got more niggaz in my tribe than there's beez in the bee hive
LB Fam everyday stay high
Mr. Cheeks, everyday high
Concentrate to get my shit straight
Make us wait, before it's too fuckin' late
The Lost Boyz, yeah that's who I be's wit
That's who I runs wit, who I smoke trees wit

Pack your bags, head outta town
I'll be back around so be gone before sundown
From Jamaica comes a nigga named Cheeks
With techniques of the streets over rough neck beats
This room is going bounce about the Cheeks can't remember
I'm the muthafucker choppin' crews like a chainsaw
Talk what you wanna, do what you gotta
Well let me tell you something man you can't do me nadda

Shout out to the Jeeps
It's the Lex Coups, Bimas and the Benz
To all my ladies and my men
To all my peoples in the pen, keep your head up
And to the hoods
East Coast, West Coast and World Wide
Ain't nuttin' wrong with puffin' on lai
And if you're with me let me hear you say "Right", right, right

Shout out to the Jeeps
It's the Lex Coups, Bimas and the Benz
To all my ladies and my men
To all my peoples in the pen, keep your head up
And to the hoods
East Coast, West Coast and World Wide
Ain't nuttin' wrong with puffin' on lai
And if you're with me let me hear you say "Right", right, right

Now if you listen to my album
You see we only deal wit the real deal street life

Shout out to the Jeeps
It's the Lex Coups, Bimas and the Benz
To all my ladies and my men
To all my peoples in the pen, keep your head up
And to the hoods
East Coast, West Coast and World Wide
Ain't nuttin' wrong with puffin' on lai
And if you're with me let me hear you say "Right", right, right

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6787cfdda4a5e5b6a852daf7529faff1

Dream Team Is In The House, The - Lyrics - L.A. Dream Team

Title: Dream Team Is In The House, The
Artist: L.A. Dream Team
Composer(s): Rufus Perison, Michael Perison

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

Lyric:
Ladies and gentlemen
The Dream Team is in the house
Ladies and gentlemen
The Dream Team is in the house
Ladies and gentlemen in the house
Ladies and gentlemen in the house

Yes, they're here
The dream is here
The dream is here
The dream is here
The dream is here

Ladies and gentlemen
Have you heard?
The Dream Team is back
So spread the word

Well, hit me on the one
And don't delay
'Cuz the Dream Team is here
And gonna make your day

We came here to kill
And this our deal
But the music don't kiss it
Then the fly looks real

We gotta give it what we got
Even get us up wide
And what you need you could jive alive
So without hesitation
You'll see what we're about
The Dream Team is in the house

Yes, they're here
The dream is here
The dream is here
The dream is here
The dream is here

Well, I'm over your radio once again
Pretty Par D, I'm your best friend
Let's take it to the stage
Feel better by the pound
My name is Par D
And I'm gonna throw down

In case you don't know who I be
I go by the name by a snake
But I judge faces to the fact
That I'm proud to be black
Do the best that I can with my fly girl band

So ladies and gentlemen
Boys and girls
Take this funk into your world
Remember make the situation with
Steady concentration

Then you know what we're talking about
But nevertheless, you got the best
The Dream Team is in the house

Yes, they're here
The dream is here
The dream is here
The dream is here
The dream is here

Can you say?
Yo baby, yo baby, yo
Yo baby, yo baby, yo
Yo baby, yo baby, yo
Yo baby, yo baby, yo
Yo baby, yo baby, yo

Join us here, each week my friend
We're sure to make you rock
With me Par D and snake, puppy
Our rhymes will never stop

Fly girls, fly girls and the whole damn crowd
With a simple scream and shout
We want you all to know that
The Dream Team is in the house

Ladies and gentlemen
The Dream Team is in the house
Ladies and gentlemen
The Dream Team is in the house

Everybody in the place before we go
Is for those of you who did and did not know
The Dream Team is here
We're about to make noise til the party ends

For all the fine ladies
Let me hear you shout
(The Dream Team is in the house)

Fresh young guys
Let me hear you shout
(The Dream Team is in the house)

Now guys and girls
Let me hear you shout
(The Dream Team is in the house)

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80f6c96bfa8ec0f6c2e7f601d58a3bef

Ghetto - Lyrics - R.L.

Title: Ghetto
Artist: R.L.
Composer(s): Ricardo Thomas, Robert Lavalle Huggar, Sherard Dixon

Lyric:
Right now, I gotta rep where I'm from
North side, yeah, ghetto
Minneapolis, ghetto, I'm from the, ghetto
You know how we do, yeah

For my people down south with gold in their mouth
For my people out east with a key in the couch
For my people out west that be bangin' it out
We ghetto, ghetto, ghetto, ghetto
(We)

For all my ladies that got airbrush on their nails
(Ooh)
A little fire, roll some of that shit on themselves
Smoke a little weed and say it's good for their health
We ghetto, ghetto, ghetto, ghetto

You know you ghetto when you front wit ya two-way
And gotta wash in cold water for the next two days
Shot, he was a lil' nigga eatin' the grub
My house so packed somebody gotta sleep in the tub

On the block niggas talkin' about they bust their gats
But soon as the cops come niggas flush their crack
Why you stuntin' in the hood with a Mercedes Coupe
Still livin' with your mother, you a baby duke

You know all Harlem World and Minneapolis
Sittin' in the Caddilac we strap to this
Act straight it's the kid from the Tex
Posta, came to get it down wit the kid from Next

Black and white, America is like a raccoon
In my building the elevator is the bathroom
Ya'll know what the dizzeal, me and RizL
Real, recognize rizzeal

I didn't always have the six
I didn't always have the crib
So I gotta rep where I'm from
Even tho I live where I live

Back when I was a kid
How the city used to give
My momma money for groceries
Brown cartons of cheese

And vouchers for everything, yeah
No matter how far I've come
I'll still represent where I'm from, I'm ghetto

For my people down south with gold in their mouth
For my people out east with a key in the couch
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)
For my people out west that be bangin' it out
We ghetto, ghetto, ghetto, ghetto

For all my ladies that got airbrush on their nails
A little fire, roll some of that shit on themselves
(So ghetto)
Smoke a little weed and say it's good for their health
We ghetto, ghetto, ghetto, ghetto

We run around with vice, Lords and G's
Russel Avenue a block after Queens
Roll in Cadilac, stoned D's
Grab Paulie and me and Nicky D's

It was me and J-Z
We in the park talkin' crazy
Now it's all good baby
Even after I got hooked up with KayGee, yeah

No matter how far I've come
(No matter)
I still represent where I'm from
('Cuz I'm)
I'm ghetto
(Ghetto, yeah)

For my people down south with gold in their mouth
For my people out east with a key in the couch
For my people out west that be bangin' it out
(I represent)
We ghetto, ghetto, ghetto, ghetto
(The ghetto)

For all my ladies that got airbrush on their nails
(Uh-huh)
A little fire, roll some of that shit on themselves
(So ghetto)
Smoke a little weed and say it's good for their health
(Yeah, yeah)
We ghetto, ghetto, ghetto, ghetto
(R-Hockey Stick yo)

From the ghetto, hood, gutta, street
Don't sleep 'cuz I'm R and B
What you know about checks on the 1st and 15th?
New kicks on the 1st and 15th

1328 RussellAve where cats used to hustle bad
With them wife killas and them 1-0 bags
Ha you don't understand me man

What you know about bein' frozen
With the furnace broken
So you sleepin' with the oven open

I been greedy always wantin' a mil, still
Nigga hungry even after the deal
I went from bein' poor, to Billboard
From the corner store, to the record store
My and Postaboy
(Ghetto)
We ghetto

For my people down south with gold in they mouth
For my people out east with a key in the couch
(Oh, talkin' 'bout the ghetto)
For my people out west that be bangin' it out
We ghetto, ghetto, ghetto, ghetto

For all my ladies that got airbrush on they nails
A little fire roll some of that shit on themselves
Smoke a little weed and say it's good for they health
We ghetto, ghetto, ghetto, ghetto

If you've ever had vouchers before
Bill-collectors knockin' at your door
Ran outta gas on the side of the road
Then you ghetto

Land lord had to change the locks
Left your shit out front in a box
You tried to break in and he called the cops
Then you ghetto

We ghetto, ghetto, ghetto, ghetto
We ghetto, ghetto, ghetto, ghetto
We ghetto, ghetto, ghetto, ghetto
Ghetto, ghetto, ghetto, ghetto

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bb7668a172209cbf8b0a790939f5247c

4 Seasons - Lyrics - Method Man

Title: 4 Seasons
Artist: Method Man
Composer(s): Erick Sermon, Jeffrey Atkins, Clifford Smith, Reggie Noble, James Todd Smith

Lyric:
Bitch
Brick City, yo

Yo, yo Funk Doc straight lunatic since young
At 8 paint chips the rare moon
That pair mics, my maintenance
I battle you and then me and Meth exchange shifts

For money, to your house arrest anklet
I take it all, if not, here's a thousand
Bricks, be shooting fair ones with bail bonds men
I'm constant, on that paper chase

Blow zip codes from bricks to 8 1 8
Doc serve to you to liquor in the plate
Battle royal, in the ring smoking like ought to owe ya
Fire thrown to the roof of you apartment

Hit 95 then I hide with the Waltons, Down South, the forty-four feela
I'm a Dolo nigga, you a Polo nigga
I'm an Uptown shopper, you a Soho nigga
West side highway running, homo nigga

I'm the sultan of the ghetto, the homicidal aficionado
I empty niggas out like Cristal bottles, uh
When I battle, I'm breaking Bentleys down to gravel
I got the heat right here, we ain't got to travel

I'm bigger than producers, I figured out you losers
I knew my longevity confuse ya
Big paper game, come on run into these flames
Recognize the power of the royal King James

Phantom Menace, that's why niggas make faces
Like they drinking Guinness
When they realize I'm not finished
I've been paid, I've been platinum, been spittin', uh
Been eatin', been ballin' and you know I'm shittin'

Platinum links, chicky-eyed blonde hair
Honeys sippin' rainbow colored drinks
Black thugs with white minks, ready to jack the brink
Bend your little wifee over help her stretch out the kinks

That's why ya niggaz freeze when I step up in the building
The Godfather's here giving blessings to his children
Carrots shine, the world all mine
Can't believe these cats is poppin' shit about papers in their rhymes

Or bodies they collect, black Gotti shot a tech
Them gangsta visions will have you ass up in an ambulance
Cats ain't live, look up in my eyes
We can do this one more time, I'll let you decide

The Alizae swigger, I clock twelve figgas
Think Goulianni's rough I got some real shit for niggas
Never been defeated, niggas retreated
Made the choice to be seated until my mission's completed

Get loose, get loose, Method Man get loose
What the world gonna do when my dogs get loose?
(Blaze one, blaze one)
Blaze one, blaze one
Blaze, blaze, blaze one

Now four corners, 4 seasons
Four MC's with four reasons to bring this game to it's knees
And why you down there, suck my dick
My whole motto is fuck it

Hit the smoke shop and blow my budget
MC's abusing my bitch, using my shit
I'm hanging off the roof with one hand, losing my grip
Now y'all don't wanna see me do that, now do you?

Go straight cuckoo and terrorize rap, do you?
I do my best work stressed out and under pressure
Deep inside the mind is where you'll find my buried treasure
I'm still wild, still Tical, still gritty style, foul, crimi-niminal, individual

Sing a song a six street, pocket full of chits
Too many rappers be on John Gotti's dick
Now this is something that we don't rehearse
Put that rap shit second and hip-hop first

Easy, ain't Nann niggas spitting like me
Nor Murderers motherfuckin' INC
Niggas will pass me, look me in the face, ask me
Are y'all really holdin' weight or did somebody ask me?

Ja the myth, ready hand me the fifth let me explain
Your lil' man made me give him a lift
So you ridin' with gangstas
I'm up to a whole lot of other shit

Murderers is the clique, niggas can't deal with
Try it, you gonna get yours to the heart
(Hataz)
Lesson tonight by the four-four
Niggas want more than a little bit, hot shit
L.L. an Red

Ja Rule with Hot Nix I'm the best at that shit
So bitches explain this
We ride dick so well, head game from hell
I love making them yell, my name
Rule baby and ain't shit gon' change, uh, uh

Yo Meth, why don't you ask where all the ladies at?

Where all the ladies at?
All the ladies in the house with the real hair
The clean underwear and she don't need welfare, make some noise
Check this shit out

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e2e4a43847143db0488ff62882c55de7

Four Seasons - Lyrics - Tical 2000 Judgementday - Method Man

Title: Four Seasons
Album: Tical 2000 Judgementday
Artist: Method Man
Composer(s): Erick Sermon, Jeffrey Atkins, Clifford Smith, Reggie Noble, James Todd Smith

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

Lyric:
Bitch
Brick City, yo

Yo, yo Funk Doc straight lunatic since young
At 8 paint chips the rare moon
That pair mics, my maintenance
I battle you and then me and Meth exchange shifts

For money, to your house arrest anklet
I take it all, if not, here's a thousand
Bricks, be shooting fair ones with bail bonds men
I'm constant, on that paper chase

Blow zip codes from bricks to 8 1 8
Doc serve to you to liquor in the plate
Battle royal, in the ring smoking like ought to owe ya
Fire thrown to the roof of you apartment

Hit 95 then I hide with the Waltons, Down South, the forty-four feela
I'm a Dolo nigga, you a Polo nigga
I'm an Uptown shopper, you a Soho nigga
West side highway running, homo nigga

I'm the sultan of the ghetto, the homicidal aficionado
I empty niggas out like Cristal bottles, uh
When I battle, I'm breaking Bentleys down to gravel
I got the heat right here, we ain't got to travel

I'm bigger than producers, I figured out you losers
I knew my longevity confuse ya
Big paper game, come on run into these flames
Recognize the power of the royal King James

Phantom Menace, that's why niggas make faces
Like they drinking Guinness
When they realize I'm not finished
I've been paid, I've been platinum, been spittin', uh
Been eatin', been ballin' and you know I'm shittin'

Platinum links, chicky-eyed blonde hair
Honeys sippin' rainbow colored drinks
Black thugs with white minks, ready to jack the brink
Bend your little wifee over help her stretch out the kinks

That's why ya niggaz freeze when I step up in the building
The Godfather's here giving blessings to his children
Carrots shine, the world all mine
Can't believe these cats is poppin' shit about papers in their rhymes

Or bodies they collect, black Gotti shot a tech
Them gangsta visions will have you ass up in an ambulance
Cats ain't live, look up in my eyes
We can do this one more time, I'll let you decide

The Alizae swigger, I clock twelve figgas
Think Goulianni's rough I got some real shit for niggas
Never been defeated, niggas retreated
Made the choice to be seated until my mission's completed

Get loose, get loose, Method Man get loose
What the world gonna do when my dogs get loose?
(Blaze one, blaze one)
Blaze one, blaze one
Blaze, blaze, blaze one

Now four corners, 4 seasons
Four MC's with four reasons to bring this game to it's knees
And why you down there, suck my dick
My whole motto is fuck it

Hit the smoke shop and blow my budget
MC's abusing my bitch, using my shit
I'm hanging off the roof with one hand, losing my grip
Now y'all don't wanna see me do that, now do you?

Go straight cuckoo and terrorize rap, do you?
I do my best work stressed out and under pressure
Deep inside the mind is where you'll find my buried treasure
I'm still wild, still Tical, still gritty style, foul, crimi-niminal, individual

Sing a song a six street, pocket full of chits
Too many rappers be on John Gotti's dick
Now this is something that we don't rehearse
Put that rap shit second and hip-hop first

Easy, ain't Nann niggas spitting like me
Nor Murderers motherfuckin' INC
Niggas will pass me, look me in the face, ask me
Are y'all really holdin' weight or did somebody ask me?

Ja the myth, ready hand me the fifth let me explain
Your lil' man made me give him a lift
So you ridin' with gangstas
I'm up to a whole lot of other shit

Murderers is the clique, niggas can't deal with
Try it, you gonna get yours to the heart
(Hataz)
Lesson tonight by the four-four
Niggas want more than a little bit, hot shit
L.L. an Red

Ja Rule with Hot Nix I'm the best at that shit
So bitches explain this
We ride dick so well, head game from hell
I love making them yell, my name
Rule baby and ain't shit gon' change, uh, uh

Yo Meth, why don't you ask where all the ladies at?

Where all the ladies at?
All the ladies in the house with the real hair
The clean underwear and she don't need welfare, make some noise
Check this shit out

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2b34b98bca9b6e76ac872a6b5da01289

Where U At Rock - Lyrics - Early Mornin' Stoned Pimp - Kid Rock

Title: Where U At Rock
Album: Early Mornin' Stoned Pimp
Artist: Kid Rock
Composer(s): R.J. Ritchie

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

Lyric:
Huh, I grew a hurdling cattle
I got more rhymes than heroin in Seattle
You wanna battle with the rock quite frontin?
I?ll spit on your ass and then tell you that you ain?t nothin?

Grab your honey and your beer and I?ll break south
Take your money then I?ll tell ya, "Get the Hell out"
I?ll put your head out, this is my night
How ya gonna step with rock when I got the mic

I shot the Sheriff and the Deputy too
Paid off the feds now it?s all about my crew
What you hoes wanna do
One at a time or all at once I?ll still roll through your whole crew

Like a south bound trucker
Hoss and motherfuckers take shorts motherfuckers take a loss
And when you step with your anger
I?m like the robot from lost in space

I give a warning but if you don?t take it
I?ll put my arm around your neck like we?re cool then I?ll break it
It?s all real cop a feel from my steel
Here?s the deal when I say clap your hands like a seal

Or better yet give respect where it?s earned
You'll eat me up I?m like a hot pepper and you might get burned
You took a turn for the worst
Walked up in my face rode away in a hurse

Now how you gonna front on that
Kid Rock?s in the house that?s where I?m at

Where u at Rock? Where u at?
Over here in the rear with your girl in the fourties of beer
Where u at Rock, where u at?
Over there with the bad attitude 'cause I just don?t care
Where u at Rock? Where u at?
Where u at Rock? Where u at?

1 2, and you don?t stop
3 4, and you don?t quit
1 2, and you don?t stop

From the depths of Hell to God?s right hand side
I?m what?s left of the get paid, self made pride
I?ll step in stride, I?m raw as cow hide
My first LP is still sellin? that ain?t no jive

Am I the chosen one
Some people ain?t getttin? where I?m comin? from
Or where I?m goin? to stand back
Kid Rock?s in the house that?s where I?m at

Where u at Rock? Where u at?
Over here in the rear with your girl in the fourties of beer
Where u at Rock, where u at?
Over there with the bad attitude 'cause I just don?t care
Where u at Rock? Where u at?
Where u at Rock? Where u at?

Rock the house yo
Come on

And I?ll be the long haired wizard with the lazy eye
Ask the ladies and they?ll tell ya that I?m crazy fly
I?m steppin? to the mic like a soldier bro
I hate to sound like a dick but I told ya so hoe

Old crow and a soul full of desperation
I?m rockin? up on the mic with no consideration
For you?re church or you?re family
I am ragged couldn?t stand me so she banned me

I?m like a Dandy Lion Jack
You can cut me down and then I?ll pop right back
And attack from the back like a great white
I?m not down with the scrappin? but I?m down for the gun fight

Behind my back talkin? shit
But when I front your ass you wanna act like a little bitch
Keep on and you get your ass macked
Kid Rock?s in the house that?s where I?m at

Where u at Rock? Where u at?
Over here in the rear with your girl in the fourties of beer
Where u at Rock? Where u at?
Over there with the bad attitude 'cause I just don?t care
Where u at Rock? Where u at?
Over here, over here, over here

Where u at Rock? Where u at?
Over there with the bad attitude 'cause I just don?t care
Where u at Rock? Where u at?
Where u at Rock? Where u at?
Where u at Rock? Where u at?
Over here, over here, over here

Where u at Rock? Where u at?
Over there with the bad attitude 'cause I just don?t care
Where u at Rock? Where u at?

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a4117256be02c610008e21afd4d26c85

Gravy - Lyrics - Underground Kingz - Ugk

Title: Gravy
Album: Underground Kingz
Artist: Ugk
Composer(s): Phalon Alexander, Chad Butler, Bernard Freeman, Avery Harris

Lyric:
Uh, if you know like I know you would get down on the flo'
I keep a magnum for they back and I keep a swisha full of dro
We can get down for my dime and we can fuck on the low
And if you didn't want a pimp then what'cha fuckin' with me fo'?

Every lady ain't a hoe and every hoe ain't my bitch
It take a real trill nigga to recognize this type of shit
Every girl around me legit, I don't fuck around with no punks
Ride with me she holdin' a pistol while I'm whippin' and poppin' the trunk

We gon' blow a lot of skunk and we gon' make a lot of bread
And we ain't never gon' have no problems
Long as she hear what the fuck I said
Pimpin' ain't dead it just moved to the west side
Still like to get my dick sucked under the street lights

I'm Tony Snow, I'm out here livin' by the code
In love with a lifestyle, not no bitch I'm in that mode
I'm lookin at you, you choosin' me my dick head never stop
I'm Pimp C bitch, I'm superstar, we headed to the top

I'm stayin' true, I'm out here whippin' my Mercedes
Fuckin' with the midnight ladies, the game is cold but it's gravy
I'm bangin' Screw, my young girl lookin' fine
We stayin' out here on the grind and keepin' money on our mind

Well, I'm certified official, authentic and the real McCoy
Guaranteed to blow the spot when I'm in it, gotta feel ya boy
100 percent, real Bun B I represent
Trill with that gangsterass persona so hard that it can dent

Still in the hood 'cause it needs me and the corner it feeds me
So I eat all I want, my reputation preceeds me
If you grimy or greasy then your best step be easy
'Cause that forty-feezy leave you leakin' fo' sheezy

Trigger fingers I squeeze see and the cannons is bust
Them bullets blow by you breezy like a midsummer gust
It'll put your dick in the dust, when I put one up in your dome
You be leakin' out plasma and puss and your mouth'll fill up with foam

So you gotta go hard or go home, either be a boy or a man
Gotta pay the cost to be the boss or you take a loss understand?
Gotta play the hand that you're dealt that's until it's yo' turn to deal
Otherwise you get it how you live, I could give a fuck how you feel

I'm stayin' true, I'm out here whippin' my Mercedes
Fuckin' with the midnight ladies, the game is cold but it's gravy
I'm bangin' Screw, my young girl lookin' fine
We stayin' out here on the grind and keepin' money on our mind

I'm Pimp C bitch, I'm from the South
This scary hoe don't wanna know what it's about
'Cause I stay country true down to the co', dick good like uncut blow
In your nose, in your jaws, feel it tighten up, don't stop, don't pause

Candy nigga drive candy cars, fuck the D.A., fuck the law
I fuck the snow but I love a pro like flat backers I'm a Cadillac'er
On parole well I'm a pistol packer, drugs sold, powder jacker
Get with me if she a money stacker, bitch around me man I'ma mack her

From the land of cheap work and steady licks
With pounds of dro' and Impala bricks
We grind to eat and eat to live
This shit for real, these ain't no tricks

With 36 hoes to the ki'
And ten kilos grams in the sack
And 15 sacks up in the trunk
Now that's one point five mill' worth of crack

It's Big Dick Cheney, Tony Snow
The King Committee is now in session
Today's agenda, get that dough
'Cause the clock is tickin', time is pressin'

No second guessin', make your mind up
Step your grind up and get that pay
Gotta sell your ass or a nigga blast
If you wanna roll with that UGK

I'm stayin' true, I'm out here whippin' my Mercedes
Fuckin' with the midnight ladies, the game is cold but it's gravy
I'm bangin' Screw, my young girl lookin' fine
We stayin' out here on the grind and keepin' money on our mind

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20db0fb2864ee821e277eec4e86ca74d

Ya'Meen - Lyrics - 4:21...the Day After - Method Man

Title: Ya'Meen
Album: 4:21...the Day After
Artist: Method Man
Composer(s): Kenneth Ifill, David Styles, Josh Joergensen, Joseph Anthony Cartagena, Clifford Smith, D Klein

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

Lyric:
Yo, I'm 'bout to hit you with this ya'meen
On top of the ya'meen, with a lil' bit of ya'meen mixed in
Ya'meen? Yeah, yeah, yo

How should I get it started, f*** it, just get it started?
These trash talking artists is nothing, n****z is garbage
When Meth strike his target, leave it dearly departed
His flow is clearly the hardest, y'all gon' feel me regardless

Might break a promise but never breaking the code
Some get popped and call for they mamma, when the drama unfolds
My block, hot as a sauna, n**** w*** u* a** j***
C**** deals on every corner, fiends wanna foam you with soap

And, if life's a b****, then I bet she bitter and cold
Every time she thinking I fold, seven figures get sold
Meth, all in your chest or inhale it all in your nose
Cops don't know about this Method but smell it all in his clothes

Yup, I'm still intact, how real is that, I'm back
With enough, fits a million, to figure vanilla wraps up
New York, New York, Rock Tube socks and Timberlands
'Cause hip hop ain't feeling them flip-flops, they feminine

I'm the one shot dealing, one shot killing it
(Ya'meen)
Yeah, it's the top billing, the block feeling like
(Ya'meen)
Yeah, f*** with me, yeah, f*** with me
(Ya'meen, ya'meen)
Yeah, if you not for squealing and for spilling the
(Ya'meen)

The streets is watching the apple rotten like
(Ya'meen)
Yeah, plus the B.B. hot and the towers dropping like
(Ya'meen)
Yeah, f*** with me, yeah, f*** with me
(Ya'meen, ya'meen)
Yeah, if you get it popping or get to popping 'em
(Ya'meen)

You know the haters diss you, let's deal with bigger issues
You know New York is dying after all the shit we been through
And we done lost B.I.G., we done lost Pun
Homey, you can't live, gotta go and get them g***

You know the hammers'll lose your cabbage, them dudes do damage
Send Zulu Nation through Reaganomics, we move them package
We pushing rain pain, gotta go and get that money
Y'all going, "Hey, hey", but don't that pen look lovely

You must not know who y'all n****z is f***ing with
I can take life n** just for the f*** of it
Crack's crazy, that n****'ll smack babies
Clap ladies for yackin' you gon' catch shady

Call it a mass shower, the way them hollow's drizzle
Mr. Potato Head, you know them things can't miss you
The Average Joe, with an average flow
Me and Meth bringing back New York, n****

I'm the one shot dealing, one shot killing it
(Ya'meen)
Yeah, it's the top billing, the block feeling like
(Ya'meen)
Yeah, f*** with me, yeah, f*** with me
(Ya'meen, ya'meen)
Yeah, if you not for squealing and for spilling the
(Ya'meen)

The streets is watching the apple rotten like
(Ya'meen)
Yeah, plus the B.B. hot and the towers dropping like
(Ya'meen)
Yeah, f*** with me, yeah, f*** with me
(Ya'meen, ya'meen)
Yeah, if you get it popping or get to popping 'em
(Ya'meen)

You don't like me, you can get what's right above the testicles
S.P., turn your top five into vegetables
You don't believe me, get 'em all in a room
And the next five, I plan to getting all of them soon

Y'all can meet me at the table that's round or get ya place in the ground
That's what you get when you facing me, clown
Who got the crown, I'm piss on it now while you wearing it
Nobody nicer than Ghost, I ain't hearing it

Been Nike Airing it, white tee out
Stick-up kid season when the dice be out
I'm a thug or star investing in living, n****z sippin' soup
Ghost rapper, knocking out your icey mouth

N****z in the East wanna unite, not me
If you ain't sayin' I'm the best, you ain't come to be right
Know what I mean? If you don't, then you not of being
Your four-four, knock little pieces off of your spleen, n****

I'm the one shot dealing, one shot killing it
(Ya'meen)
Yeah, it's the top billing, the block feeling like
(Ya'meen)
Yeah, f*** with me, yeah, f*** with me
(Ya'meen, ya'meen)
Yeah, if you not for squealing and for spilling the
(Ya'meen)

The streets is watching the apple rotten like
(Ya'meen)
Yeah, plus the B.B. hot and the towers dropping like
(Ya'meen)
Yeah, f*** with me, yeah, f*** with me
(Ya'meen, ya'meen)
Yeah, if you get it popping or get to popping 'em
(Ya'meen)

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8b33b3ffc04c457f71611f1481916e30