Don'T Get Outta Pocket - Lyrics - Westside Connection

Title: Don'T Get Outta Pocket
Artist: Westside Connection
Composer(s): Treyvon Green, Dedrick Rolison, William Calhoun, Kelly Garmon, O'Shea Jackson

Lyric:
Westside
We live in la la, we smokin' la la
Fuck wit dada, boo, go bye bye
Nigga, ha ha
We live in la la, we smokin' la la
Fuck wit dada, boo, go bye bye
Nigga, ha ha

Get outta pocket, we might just whoop yo' ass
Pull out a rocket, we might just take yo' cash
An' when I cock it, we might step out an' blast
But we ain't gon' let that bullshit pass

I used to be a young phenom like Lebron
Now I'm doin' shit beyond Genghis Khan
Peon, you can't pass on Deon
The best rapper in the world ain't a European

Look, respect my gangsta, nigga, obey
An' I been rich since my first pro day, ask O' Shea
West ridin' is my forte
An' will the hustle ever stop? Nigga, no way

No, niggaz can't fuck wit Dub SC
Gang related an' leavin' 'em leakin' like STDs
C-Walkin' out of the SC, lettin' the tech breathe
Until I rest in peace, Dub gon' rep these streets

K Mac is the one, nigga, fuck Neo
No love, hit 'em up with the dub wherever we go
My game's so cold, the hoes call me Sub Zero
Oh, you know that nigga pimpin', Ken? That's my hero

Get outta pocket, we might just whoop yo' ass
Pull out a rocket, we might just take yo' cash
An' when I cock it, we might step out an' blast
But we ain't gon' let that bullshit pass

Get outta pocket, we might just whoop yo' ass
Pull out a rocket, we might just take yo' cash
An' when I cock it, we might step out an' blast
But we ain't gon' let that bullshit pass

It's catastrophic when I drop it
Atomic, demonic an' off that chronic
It's ironic how I flip them phonics
So fucked up, the product of 'Reaganomics'

I heard the price of yola went up
My gun buddy had a drop, so the pistola went up
The heater hot, nigga, burn ya skin up
The fo' fifth hold a dime an' I shoot all ten up

I'm about guns, fuck roses, I reeze over parole
Some man captured some folks the locstas never foes
Bacon soda aromas niggaz swingin' chrome motors
Dickey bombin', photo shootin' out of stolen automotives

I got diamonds on fingers an' watch on arms
Stay out a nigga way an' you won't be harmed
If I catch a bitch, I'll see for sure she'll be charmed
When I'm rollin' through the hood, a nigga heavily armed

Get outta pocket, we might just whoop yo' ass
Pull out a rocket, we might just take yo' cash
An' when I cock it, we might step out an' blast
But we ain't gon' let that bullshit pass

Get outta pocket, we might just whoop yo' ass
Pull out a rocket, we might just take yo' cash
An' when I cock it, we might step out an' blast
But we ain't gon' let that bullshit pass

Shit, my life is like a rap show
I'm out the back door, so beware of the strap, bro
'Cause that's how my blast go
Ice Cube is a asshole just like Castro

Nigga, I spit flames, leave permanent scars
Connect gang bang an' we G's about ours
An' ain't shit changed, still stripes an' stars
An' I'm done already, ain't got but 4 bars

Holdin' it down, down, down, stoned down, bustin' rounds
I'm Dub, ghetto rich nigga since bow down
Squad down, sendin' flicks to my niggaz locked down
Doin' dolas in streets wit the ragtop down

Yo, write a book 'bout a nigga like me
I got loot like an athlete, just signed wit Nike
You lose ya life if ya ever get sheisty
Could Mac ever run out of snaps? Not likely

Get outta pocket, we might just whoop yo' ass
Pull out a rocket, we might just take yo' cash
An' when I cock it, we might step out an' blast
But we ain't gon' let that bullshit pass

Get outta pocket, we might just whoop yo' ass
Pull out a rocket, we might just take yo' cash
An' when I cock it, we might step out an' blast
But we ain't gon' let that bullshit pass

I pledge allegiance to the rag of the United Westside Connect Gang
An' to the W for which it stands
One neighborhood, under God
Invincible with luxuries an' riches for all

With luxuries an' riches for all
With luxuries an' riches for all
Just don't get outta pocket
Westside

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c505fd0ed156c5b74a36778613314b91

Out There - Lyrics - Project Pat

Title: Out There
Artist: Project Pat
Composer(s): Paul Beauregard, Earl Patrick Houston, Jordan Houston

Lyric:
Hey pass me a beer man
Here you go
Man that nigga been standing on the same goddamn spot
Slagin' that shit about the last 4-5 days man
Wit the same clothes on, ain't even been home yet

I don't even think so I wonder if he smoking or selling
That shit he had to be smoking or snortin' something
To up for them 4-5 days

Naw, I heard he shot somebody man
For real?
That's the reason why he probably can't go home
Yeah, you know like what you call been missing to man
I think that's the nigga, he suppose to be frontin' his money to

That's why the police been drivin' around so hard
Yeah, burning the spot up man, yeah
Yeah, we might need to gone call 528-CASH
That nigga ass and turn him on in

We need to man to make that little change man
Get some mo beers or something
Yeah, we gone do that

Need to hurry up and gone, turn that nigga ass in man make
This neighborhood probably a little bit safer man
A little bit more
Atleast for us or somthing dang

Blunt to my lips, gun on my hip
Rocks in my sock, pocket full of chips
Watchin' for the pigs, splitin' hataz wigs
Stackin' me some grip, playa can ya dig?

Blunt to my lips, gun on my hip
Rocks in my sock, pocket full of chips
Watchin' for the pigs, splitin' hataz wigs
Stackin' me some grip, playa can ya dig?

Project Pat a nigga that's down for his crown man
If your ass step I'ma be downtown man
4th floor bound man that's if I get caught man
Push me to the edge so it really ain't my fault man

See I gotta die man, don't you even try man
Enemies gone bleed once, I let these bullets fly man
Momma gonna cry man, I like to get high man
Niggas passing plates snortin' line after line man

I got's to get mine man, robbing was the crime man
That a nigga did but I done serve my time man
Put that all behind man, get out on the grind man
Slang some of this dope in the steets or my ride man

See I ain't a fool man, fuck listen to you man
Why you in my grill? And you knowin' we ain't cool man
Project ain't a duck man, see I know waz up man
Get up off my dick like a motherfucking slut man

Blunt to my lips, gun on my hip
Rocks in my sock, pocket full of chips
Watchin' for the pigs, splitin' hataz wigs
Stackin' me some grip, playa can ya dig?

Blunt to my lips, gun on my hip
Rocks in my sock, pocket full of chips
Watchin' for the pigs, splitin' hataz wigs
Stackin' me some grip, playa can ya dig?

Where I'm from man, ain't no sunshine
Only shine on a doggs ass if his ass don't get on the grind
Doin' time help a nigga out to clear up my head
Use to have a shank and a knife that was by my bed

It was said I would end up dead working in the streets
But the streets is the only thang I see payin' me quarter key fuck
Servin' deals rockin' to the shake slangin' guns slangin' TV's
Man, I'm tryin' to make all I can my nigga puncho at a hoes house

Get her drunk, take her to the back, put dick in her mouth
Leave the front door unlocked, my nig turn the radio
Pull the car up into the yard, cleaning out the hoe
You should know that a burglary really ain't for me

I just got out the tentary tryin' to get my feet
Get the cheese off the merchandise, went a bought a deal
Nigga , please you say you don't steal I'ma keep it real

Blunt to my lips, gun on my hip
Rocks in my sock, pocket full of chips
Watchin' for the pigs, splitin' hataz wigs
Stackin' me some grip, playa can ya dig?

Blunt to my lips, gun on my hip
Rocks in my sock, pocket full of chips
Watchin' for the pigs, splitin' hataz wigs
Stackin' me some grip, playa can ya dig?

Hataz like to get a playa twisted in that bullshita
And game splita I'm also a wig splita your ass getta
Shoot up by the 9 mila, your cap I drilla
When fucking with real nigga the chrome trigga

Shall regulate a punk quicker a bullet hit ya
I'm zoned of that brown liquor you need
To get ya nose outta niggas biz quit spreadin' rumors
Like a motherfucking punk bitch, my trunk is the bed
For a kidnapped victim, hollow point hit them pull out my gun
Your hands, you get them up in the air

Ah, because you came to me in error, don't wanna scare ya
See you have manifest in terror I know these bullets
Will pop your shit off like a meleon, let's bust it up man
Fuck man who you tellin' it's armagedeon the North Memphis crack
We sellin' you, pass me the potent weed is what they yellin'

Blunt to my lips, gun on my hip
Rocks in my sock, pocket full of chips
Watchin' for the pigs, splitin' hataz wigs
Stackin' me some grip, playa can ya dig?

Blunt to my lips, gun on my hip
Rocks in my sock, pocket full of chips
Watchin' for the pigs, splitin' hataz wigs
Stackin' me some grip, playa can ya dig?

Blunt to my lips, gun on my hip
Rocks in my sock, pocket full of chips
Watchin' for the pigs, splitin' hataz wigs
Stackin' me some grip, playa can ya dig?
...

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20190428d160927fbfaaba757ebe5f8a

Stomp (Remix) - Lyrics - Young Buck

Title: Stomp (Remix)
Artist: Young Buck
Composer(s): Jordan Houston, Paul Beauregard, Jayceon Terrll Taylor, Christopher Bridges, David Brown

Lyric:
Uh, oh, young buck
Dirty south, yo

I hear him talkin' but he 'bout to get that ass stomp
Watch how I get the club crunk, I'ma make 'em stomp
We ain't playin' wanna front, get that ass stomp
Do it like them dirty south boys do and stomp

Now, where you from? Who the boss? I'ma break him off
Where you from? Who the boss? Lemme break him off
Now, where you from? Who the boss? I'ma break him off
Where you from? Who the boss? Lemme break him off

I'm Cadillac n through the hood sittin' on 24's
T.V's playin' rim's spinnin', blowin' plenty 'dro
Don't have to mention when you pimpin' you get plenty hoes
It's all on you if you gon' trick or you gon' get yo' dough

I know I got these haters, mad I can love that
When you got love for the streets, they give ya love back
Look in my eyes, you can tell I ain't never scared
Poppin' them thangs, I'm rockin' my chain anywhere

If you gon' represent your hood, what you waitin' on?
Security better back up when they play this song
And we 'bout 50 strong, please don't make us do you wrong
My click of guerrilla's they got they G-Unit's on

All of that mean muggin' really don't mean nothin'
C'mon n' take it outside, let me see somethin'
W-w-what now? Don't get B-B-Buck'd down
Stop all this hatin' or this club gon' get s-s-shut down

Now, where you from? Who the boss? I'ma break him off
Where you from? Who the boss? Lemme break him off

I hear him talkin' but he 'bout to get that ass stomp
Watch how I get the club crunk I'ma make 'em stomp
We ain't playin' wanna front, get that ass stomp
Do it like them dirty south boys, do and stomp

Now, where you from? Who the boss? I'ma break him off
Where you from? Who the boss? Lemme break him off
Now, where you from? Who the boss? I'ma break him off
Where you from? Who the boss? Lemme break him off

G-G-G-Unit, comin' straight outta Compton
Lace up my G-6's and I'm A-Town stompin'
Got ten-thousand cash in my pocket, let the pump in
'Cause Luda and Young Buck always gettin' me into somethin'

Low rider out front, I'm tryin' to get into somethin'
Step on banks, shoot one more time then I'ma start bustin'
Rows gold in my grill, I got a dirty mouth
And a bitch with a fat ass from the dirty, dirty south

I wasn't tryin' to get the cover of the Double XL
Just tryin' to fuck Mya 'cause Dre said, "Sex sells"
Don't be mad at the rocks in my fuckin' chain
Don't be mad 'cause your bitch chose Buck and Game

You see the logo tatted on my neck
The same one I'm autographin' on the chest
Put your bottles in the air for Yayo, he on House Arrest
And on behalf of 50 Cent, this is G-Unit West
Now stomp, G-G-G-Unit, now stomp, G-G-G-Unit

I hear him talkin' but he 'bout to get that ass stomp
Watch how I get the club crunk, I'ma make 'em stomp
We ain't playin' wanna front, get that ass stomp
Do it like them dirty south boys do and stomp

Now, where you from? Who the boss? I'ma break him off
Where you from? Who the boss? Lemme break him off
Now, where you from? Who the boss? I'ma break him off
Where you from? Who the boss? Lemme break him off

Mothafucka, I'm a monster in this game similar to the Lochness
My rhymes is nappy rooted, some verses gotta process
The truth in this booth, ain't no doubt when I'm rappin'
If I say it I've either done it or it's 'bout to happen

When I pull up in the Louis truck on 26's people dumb out
If life's a crap game, I'm rollin' 7's on the come out
These rapper's think I'm ignent, love sayin' my name
'Cause maintainin' my fish tank an' they house cost the same

Ask me I'll say I made it an' it sure wasn't luck
'Cause hustler's relate to me and some are younger than Buck
You see I'm married to my music but we got a prenupt
So, if that bitch don't act right, I'm still gettin' my cut

My deals never get screwed my contracts practice abstinence
I'm masterin' this program hazin' these undergraduates
So, pimpin' be easy, quit catchin' feelings
'Cause you worth a couple hundred grand and I'm worth millions
Nobodys thinkin' about you plus your beef ain't legit
So, please stay off the T I P of my dick

I hear him talkin' but he 'bout to get that ass stomp
Watch how I get the club crunk, I'ma make 'em stomp
We ain't playin' wanna front, get that ass stomp
Do it like them dirty south boys do and stomp

Now, where you from? Who the boss? I'ma break him off
Where you from? Who the boss? Lemme break him off
Now, where you from? Who the boss? I'ma break him off
Where you from? Who the boss? Lemme break him off

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714ebf71d164924da2421cd93e40f1f8

In My Hood - Lyrics - Massacre - 50 Cent

Title: In My Hood
Album: Massacre
Artist: 50 Cent
Composer(s): Luis Resto, Curtis Jackson, Marshall Mathers, Phillip Pitts, Teraike Crawford

Lyric:
Niggas screw they face up at me
On some real shit son they don't want beef
I cock that, aim that shit out the window
I spray, there ain't a shell left in my heat

Ya niggas better lay down, young in stay down
Get hit wit AK rounds, ya ass ain't gonna make it
You niggas'll get laid out, wit blood and ya brains out
Have ya on the concrete shiverin' and shakin'

I'm from South side motherfucker
Where gats explode
If you feel like ya on fire, boy
Drop and roll

Niggas'll eatcha ass up 'cuz they heart turn cold
Now you could be a victim or you can lock and load
Party jumpin', shorty bouncin' that ass
I wanna fuck

Gimme a second, I'ma holla, I'ma see what's up
I got my razor and my handgun
My pistol in trunk
Carve ya ass up nicely if ya play me like a punk

In my hood
Niggas got love for me
But I don't go nowhere without my strap
In my hood
A little dro, a lil' Hennessey
A nigga juz don't know how to act

In my hood
Niggas is grimy
I stay on point, I hold to my gat
In my hood
Niggas might buck at me
So I keep somethin' around to buck back
In my hood

I don't trust a motherfuckin' soul when the D's come they fold
On my first case they told
Where I'm from it ain't safe to have more than a eighth
Niggas'll come to ya place, put a gun in ya face

Tell ya open the safe, as ya heart start to race
'Cuz a robbery can turn into a homi-case
Cooperate or doc'll have to operate
Because I pop you run a light than pop at jake

Trust me son
Niggas'll go on for they cake
These thirsty niggas are lurkin'
You have to catch 'em and merk 'em

I'm observant in my hood, these niggas be dummin'
Shots go off at the dice game, all you see is them runnin'
That make it harder and harder to pump on the block
I'm a hustler, how the fuck am supposed to eat when it's hot?

In my hood
Niggas got love for me
But I don't go nowhere without my strap
In my hood
A little dro, a lil' Hennessey
A nigga juz don't know how to act

In my hood
Niggas is grimy
I stay on point, I hold to my gat
In my hood
Niggas might buck at me
So I keep somethin' around to buck back
In my hood

The house party off the hook until them shots go off
Well that's what you get for stuntin' on my block, show off
Uh, you shit outta luck if niggas catch you slippin'
Crack money slow, so you know niggas is trippin'

Shorty down there on that Queens track, takin' a whippin'
Shit, bitch get outta pocket, she needs some discipline
Peep the feins shootin' diesel in his arm in the alley
Look at the chrome spinners, spinnin' on that black Denali

The grimy niggas where I'm from don't wanna see you chipped up
You shine they gone jux you about to shoot ya whip up
It ain't good to do good in my hood
Blaaow, you know not to do good now

In my hood
Niggas got love for me
But I don't go nowhere without my strap
In my hood
A little dro, a lil' Hennessey
A nigga juz don't know how to act

In my hood
Niggas is grimy
I stay on point, I hold to my gat
In my hood
Niggas might buck at me
So I keep somethin' around to buck back
In my hood

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31c00722d228abeec42fa7568cd903af

Get Smart - Lyrics - Ghetto Fabolous - Fabolous

Title: Get Smart
Album: Ghetto Fabolous
Artist: Fabolous
Composer(s): John David Jackson, A Thelusma

Lyric:
You gotta go, oh I can't fuck with you
You gotta go, oh I can't fuck with you

I like 'em brown, yellow, Puerto Rican or Asian
Who have the weekend occasion, sneak in the Days Inn
I'm never tweakin' of haze an frequently blazin'
Now if they ain't on ya face it ain't the cheeks that I stay in
Can't deny it, used to take weeks of persuasion
Now I just be lookin' down at these freaks in amazement
With a girl, the first thing I peep a notice
Is how full her lips is and deep her throat is

So you ain't gotta be perfect, I'll buy you whatever you want
But your heads gotta be worth it, still what I mean is
Your brains gotta send chills
Through my penis till I feel like a genius
Look at it from a playa's position
I got a scholarship, I get smart without payin' tuition
My classes be like two three hours
That's why I'm the smartest young guy since Doogie Howser

Still what I mean is
I really just wanna get smart until I feel like a genius
And all that I ask is
That you help me get good grades in all of my classes
Still what I mean is
I really just wanna get smart until I feel like a genius
And all that I ask is
That you help me get good grades, Ma in all of my classes

These bitches they done got real bad
'Cause now I pull out, leavin 'em lookin' like models for a got milk ad
I'm a teachers pet and even if you good at math Ma
You'll have trouble countin' each baguette
All it takes would hood tutors and some good budda
And promise to buy them some of them Razor foot scooters
They don't care where the cops is
Outta the blue they stop biz, teacher started givin' me a pop quiz

I stay ten minutes in night clubs
Pocket full of green, Duke on it invented the night bulb
I might pass on a female and call up a substitute
Just for night class in the CL
Ya man don't know why his chicks knees be scarred
Can't tell her from givin' my dick C.P.R.
If ya lift up and say ya jaws hurtin', before squrtin'
It's for certain, you are the weakest link, Goodbye

Still what I mean is
I really just wanna get smart until I feel like a genius
And all that I ask is
That you help me get good grades in all of my classes
Still what I mean is
I really just wanna get smart until I feel like a genius
And all that I ask is
That you help me get good grades, Ma in all of my classes

You know my girls in North and South Caddy
They all for mouth waxin' and the whores in Texas, oral sexes
I head to Cali, take more blows to the head than Ali
And the Philly momies suck the kid outta Willie Bonnie
And the way females, so Southern Hospitality in ATL
Don't even know them hoes
In South Beach, they let me jimmy dip in they mouthpiece
Forget about Vegas, the head is outrageous

The broads in Seattle will make ya knees rattle
Fa shizzle da snizzle get smizzle down in VA
Them hoes in Detroit will suck the whole
My dick don't get to die down when I'm in Chi-Town
My bitches in B-More, blow till they knees sore
Good damn, there face I, ain't screwed down in St. Lou
New York, it ain't got no pipe instructions
They just suck outta you like liposuction

Still what I mean is
I really just wanna get smart until I feel like a genius
And all that I ask is
That you help me get good grades in all of my classes
Still what I mean is
I really just wanna get smart until I feel like a genius
And all that I ask is
That you help me get good grades, Ma in all of my classes

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2d47abba3d2149bc427d1869403f15bf

Sell Your Dope - Lyrics - Afroman

Title: Sell Your Dope
Artist: Afroman
Composer(s): Joseph Foreman

Lyric:
A few words of inspiration
This song is dedicated to hustlers standing on the curb
Smokin' herb, movin' weight from the inner city to the suburbs
Paranoid of jail, pocket full of ya'll, just waitin' on another sale
Sip your beer, wipe your tears
Encourage your peers, it's gonna be alright

Everything is gonna be alright, sell your dope
Make your money every night
Them brothers around the corner, they wanna start a fight
Sell your dope, keep on hustlin' till your money's right

You and your girl argue every night
Sell your dope especially when your pocket's tight
You can't find a job 'cuz your skin ain't white
Sell your dope brother, you know this world ain't right

Hey, whattup lil' inchworm
I hope this letter make you feel just a lil' bit better
Got your T-shirt picked your khakis creased
So you can be G'd up when you get released

Me and my homeboys put together some Jimmys
To buy some beer and a couple of strippers
You can use my car till you find another
Can't wait till you get home

But later on, that money you get from your GR check
Should be enough to put you back on deck
Now I know, you on parole but don't be scared
This time, we be prepared

Fuck the feds, don't say shit to your broad
Keep your dope stashed in your neighbors yard
When they kick in the door with they steel toed boot
Won't find nothin' but a lawsuit, baby, baby

Everything is gonna be alright, sell your dope
Make your money every night
Them brothers around the corner, they wanna start a fight
Sell your dope, keep on hustlin' till your money's right

You and your girl argue every night
Sell your dope especially when your pocket's tight
You can't find a job 'cuz your skin ain't white
Sell your dope brother, you know this world ain't right

Your baby momma, she might trip
'Cuz you hangin' with a Crip tryin' to clock your grip
She can't help a black man out
But when bills come around, she's got her hand out

The baby needs Pampers and Similac
Plus you need rims for your Cadillac
Ignore your girl when she starts trippin'
Keep them kilos flippin' Dayton's dipin'

We can expand by a little land
Hand the dope game down to the next man
Buy a little business clean the money
Look at the cops funny, hey hey hey

Frontin' in your Caddy or a beat up Taurus
Got the baby gangsters sellin' shit for us
We can dance underwater and not get wet
Sell crack on the internet but not yet

Everything is gonna be alright, sell your dope
Make your money every night
Them brothers around the corner, they wanna start a fight
Sell your dope, keep on hustlin' till your money's right

You and your girl argue every night
Sell your dope especially when your pocket's tight
You can't find a job 'cuz your skin ain't white
Sell your dope brother, you know this world ain't right

Them brothers around the corner they wanna start a fight
Sell your dope, keep on hustlin' till your money's right
You and your girl argue every night

Sell your dope especially when your pocket's tight
You can't find a job 'cuz your skin ain't white
Sell your dope brother, you know this world ain't right

1, 2, 3, 4 breakdown

Early in the morning when I get outta bed
I chop up some quarter pieces and get ready for my cluck heads
I sell it all day baby, you sell it all night long
Till the 15th comes around and everybody is all gone

I go out and buy some activator turn my fro into a jheri curl
Put the Daytona's on my lac and then I go scoop up my little girl
Baby, don't try to change me if I go to the pen
'Cuz when the white man lets me go
I'm gonna do the same old thing again

Everything is gonna be alright, sell your dope
Make your money every night
Them brothers around the corner, they wanna start a fight
Sell your dope, keep on hustlin' till your money's right

You and your girl argue every night
Sell your dope especially when your pocket's tight
You can't find a job 'cuz your skin ain't white
Sell your dope brother, you know this world ain't right

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2eed83ffea9d06bb750171abecd210a3

Wind Blow - Lyrics - Strength and Loyalty - Bone Thugs N Harmony

Title: Wind Blow
Album: Strength and Loyalty
Artist: Bone Thugs N Harmony
Composer(s): Steven Howse, Lindsey Buckingham, Orlando Clarence Watson, Stevie Nicks, Bradford Ray, Charles Scruggs, Anne Christine Mc Vie, Mick Fleetwood, Anthony Henderson, John Graham Mcvie

Lyric:
Bone Thugs-N-Harmony
Ayo, we ain't always been accepted like this
'Til a *** got that Grammy, open the door
(Listen to the wind blow)

Bone Thugs got a story that's similar to Mike Jones
You can ask my homies
I remember back in the days when they didn't want me
Now I blew up, they all on me

Their smile's phony
It's hard to determine who really is, which of these *** is fake
They try to eat outta ya plate and you can't get a break
Now how much can you take for heaven's sakes?
I can't wait they got me listenin' to the wind blow

Sittin' back, rollin' up my ***
Rollin' with my *** finger hangin' out the window
Let's roll, get yo' *** hand out my pocket
Now they wanna be a *** friend like we partners

*** we was lookin' for a deal and you dodged us
Never did call us, what was your problem?
Rollin' now, we ridin' by, listen to the wind blow

*** tell the real from the fake when it comes from the streets
Livin' peace like a beat, like a drum from the ghetto
Give us our peace, won't let it go, said we wouldn't make it now
We some of the greatest bumpin' through your trunks
And your radio, radio

And if you don't love me now, you will never love me again
I can still hear you sayin', you must never break the chain
And if you don't love me now, you will never love me again
I can still hear you sayin', you must never break the chain

Four true thugs from the double ***
A *** ready to rumble when the trouble knocks
Took one way tickets straight off the block
We gon' make the pay, y'all *** just watch

'All Eyez On Me' like my name was Pac
*** hip-hop cop, got a plastic ***
I'm takin' drastic shots 'till these *** stop
When the casket drop I be mashin' out
In a brand new drop top flyin' ***, listenin' to the wind blow

*** automatic weapon
When they step up *** hit with a ***
Everybody tryna get a *** with a blessin'
They better not mess with mine 'cause I'm tellin'

All you *** from the beginnin'
That ain't no pretendin', conversate you gon' get it
You betta listen, listen to the wind blow

If you get it take it to the fullest just for Ish
Just do it, do it, grab the game, do it to it, to it
Chasin' chains, but still hood, live it, I love it
Diamonds in the rough don't come by to my hood

And if you don't love me now, you will never love me again
I can still hear you sayin', you must never break the chain
And if you don't love me now, you will never love me again
I can still hear you sayin', you must never break the chain

Flow like the wind blow
Never see me 'cause I get ghost, so a *** never get close
I go fast or slow, no matter the tempo
*** the instrumental, *** the rhythm
I ride to the rhythm of ***
This lyrical venom I serve up gon' *** admittable murda

*** burn some, stick with Granddad and stack cash
*** you better learn some
We got the hood hot locked, even got the birds bumpin'
Everybody tryna get in, don't nobody wanna be left in the wind

*** better not try to miss the boat
The early bird get the worm, took the game by the throat
And squeezed till the *** broke
Believe, it's *** we wrote

It's *** that we serve on the curve to the booth
These *** gon' feel it 'cause we spit the truth
Ain't never no fakin', that Grammy to prove
Haters just hatin', we do what we do

Let 'em we talk 'till we blue in the face
Only because we blew up in they face
If Bone was hurtin', if that was the case
I'd probably go loco and catch me a case

*** just move and give me some space
When I let the wind blow in my face
*** don't quit 'till I finish the race
Number one in the place, betta make no mistake

And if you don't love me now, you will never love me again
I can still hear you sayin', you must never break the chain
And if you don't love me now, you will never love me again
I can still hear you sayin', you must never break the chain

And now we ridin' by
And now we ridin' by
Now we ridin' by
Now we ridin' by

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e3cd13e04186c2d0faf19cb9b70acf68

No More - Lyrics - Dj Drama

Title: No More
Artist: Dj Drama
Composer(s): Don Cannon, Clifford Harris, Matthew Pearson, Lloyd Polite

Lyric:
Yeah, Willie The Kid
Bright lights, street lights

Summertime in apartment 409
Had to clean up the kitchen with 409
It was cookin' up work, while my granny at work
My big cuz, he ain't understand me at first

He said the court room or the casket
I'm like dude, either way you need cash and a nice suit
The street lights where I found my strength
Be with four rich men and you bound to be the fifth
Let's go

I lost my daddy at a early age
Told my mama, don't cry for me
If I trade tomorrow in for yesterday
Oh, how much different my life would be

But that's in my dreams, back to reality
Tryna get outta these street lights
So I won't have to live this street life
No more, no more
No more, no more, no

Just gotta learn to deal with problems
If you're young and from slum with no father
Got killed when you was little, still got mama
She try to tell him go to school but why bother

When gettin' paid is the only way to solve 'em
Seems the stars get farther and farther
Out of my reach, out of these streets
Will they ever make it big?

'Cause I lost my daddy at a early age
Told my mama, don't cry for me
If I trade tomorrow in for yesterday
Oh, how much different my life would be

But that's in my dreams, back to reality
Tryna get outta these street lights
So I won't have to live this street life
No more, no more
No more, no more, no

I ain't ashamed to say that I shed a tear
Thinkin' 'bout my dad, I wish I had him back
I'd give up everythin' just to have him here

After this storm and rain I have no fear
Gotta keep holdin' on, hold my head up strong
I know it won't be long
(I'm livin' for the moment)
Until we'll be together again, fo real
(If I could turn back the days)
(Sure you could turn this back)

Hey, I was born with the hustle, never been a sucker
Daddy wasn't in the crib, that made me tougher
Momma struggled with the bills, that made me stuff up
Powder in a sack which made me dumber

Now I'm standin' on the corner, bag full of marijuana, crack
Pistol in my pocket for anybody who disrespect
In the trap chillin' where robbers and killers kick it at

My arms up in the feds for ten, they say I'm goin' in
Ha, bet that I'm a stretch that, backish to this rappers
Show these niggas what I'm best at
Get a lil' check, flip it and invest that

Years later, oh now you see what my heads at
Like meals chasers, we be everywhere the bread at
You keep on hatin', you'll be layin' where the dead at
You rappers suckers, you can tell them that I said that
If nothin' else but the hustle, you gon' respect that

I lost my daddy at a early age
Told my mama, don't cry for me
If I trade tomorrow in for yesterday
Oh, how much different my life would be

But that's in my dreams, back to reality
Tryna get outta these street lights
So I won't have to live this street life
No more, no more
No more, no more, no

Guess this is my life and I wanna live it right
I don't wanna run the streets no more, no
Guess this is my life and I wanna live it right
I don't wanna run the streets no more, no

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9d562712e72f04c3208275a534809d10

Welcome To The Suburbs - Lyrics - Hidden Stash II: The Kream Of The Krop - Kottonmouth Kings

Title: Welcome To The Suburbs
Album: Hidden Stash II: The Kream Of The Krop
Artist: Kottonmouth Kings
Composer(s): Michael M Kumagai, Tim Mcnutt, Dustin Miller, Brad Xavier

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

Lyric:
Home, sweet home
Let me take a drink of my fuckin' bud light
Yo, Richter, light that joint
Yo, X, turn the porch light on

Welcome to the suburbs, where the grass is green
Home of the motherfuckin' Kottonmouth Kings
Where days become night and nights become dreams
Where everything gets lost in a dream

Welcome to the block with the spot that call my home
Where the locks are unlocked the land of cellular phones
Where the Kings was formed the true Kings is from
Sittin' right in Orange county livin' under the sun

Growin' up in the burbs where the herb's the word
The herb, herb, herb, you know the herb's the word
We high as some birds in your ear is my turd
Don't test Kottonmouth or you might get served

Now you're gonna get served that'll kick to the curb
Where the king klick stay licks premium herb
Every day, every day outta body, outta mind
Take a trip with us, deep behind the county line

We hella, hella high runnin' from it one time
Never hit the shwag only smokin' on the kind yo
Outta body, outta, outta mind
Need a beer from the keg but I'm too drunk too stand in line though

We in the Kings dome with a bowl to the kind
My body's feelin' numb, I'm going crazy
Outta body, outta, outta mind
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

I got my old girl Caddy, the color of a cookie
Lookin' butter pecan, 'cuz you know I can
Rollin' way too cute on my way to thrifty's
About to shoot a lil' hoop and get a scoop for fifty

I bump it doo-ah diddy diddy dum
Growin' up in the burbs, drinkin' beers, havin' fun
And I'm always on the run with a sack in my pocket
Kottonmouth Kings, yo, we the hot topic

You'll find me rollin' my truck just as high as fuck
You'll find me hittin' my bub on my to the pub
You'll find me in mid arc on the way to my moms
'Cause if I don't get high, I won't be stayin' too long

You'll see me puffin' jays on avenues and highways
I might be rippin' off my foldin' portable vape
And I never slip, I'm always either smoke or drinking kind
99 percent of the time I'm going out of my mind

We hella, hella high runnin' from it one time
Never hit the shwag only smokin' on the kind yo
Outta body, outta, outta mind
Need a beer from the keg but I'm too drunk too stand in line though

We in the kings dome with a bowl to the kind
My body's feelin' numb, I'm going crazy
Outta body, outta, outta mind
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

You're welcome to the suburbs where the grass is green
The home of the motherfuckin' Kottonmouth Kings
Where days become nights and nights become dreams
Where everything ain't what it seems

'Bout to get my buzz bloomin', 'cuz it's close to noon
Double grippin' on the brew, steady sippin' till I'm through
'Cuz I ain't one to pound but I can go all day
Loc and Ritcher never play, get it straight, get out our way

Remember back in the day we built a lake bed
Only rollin' to the beach when it's double overhead
I go down to the waves to watch some Kamikaze runs
And if I'm outta joints I'm going home, you're done

Hee haw, I think I heard a donkey, donkey
You a weird motherfucker D
Recently I seen a new look in your eyes
I been expanding my high, searching for what's wise

Well, I blister my thumb from flickin' many bics
I listen to my pops and call the neighbors fuckin' pricks
Special hits on the street, no one knowing the line
Now I'm going outta body and outta, outta mind

We hella, hella high runnin' from it one time
Never hit the shwag only smokin' on the kind yo
Outta body, outta, outta mind
Need a beer from the keg but I'm too drunk too stand in line though

We in the kings dome with a bowl to the kind
My body's feelin' numb, I'm going crazy
Outta body, outta, outta mind
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

We're runnin' outta money, we're runnin' outta time
Never hit the shwag only smokin' on the kind yo
Outta body, outta, outta mind
Need a beer from the keg but I'm too drunk too stand in line though

We hella, hella high runnin' from it one time
My body's feelin' numb, I'm going crazy
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

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a6a79dd752c7def36a24170a36ceae51

Watch What You Say To Me - Lyrics - T.I. vs. T.I.P - T.I.

Title: Watch What You Say To Me
Album: T.I. vs. T.I.P
Artist: T.I.
Composer(s): Kevin Cates, S Carter, C Harris

Lyric:
Karaoke
Watch what you say to me
You better watch what you say to me
Watch what you say to me
You say, I spray, hey

Watch what you say to me
You see me, you know I'm two'd up
You don't wanna see me cut the full grip
Well, watch what you say to me
Let me find out you talkin' tough in your song
When you see me you know what's up, boy, it's on

Nigga, what you say to me
You see 'cause I ain't been a fuck, nigga, never
I'm just warnin' all you, sucka niggas
Better watch what you say to me
'Cuz I'm known to make a mountain outta molehill
You don't want to get your folk killed
Well, watch what you say to me

Got a tool in my pocket and the club just rock
Watchin' these niggas while your girlfriend jockin'
They better let it go because niggas already know
That I got that thang with me and it ain't just to let it go

I'm tryin' to mind my [Incomprehensible] till I hit it, niggas, say yo
They ain't nobody fuck 'em, I'm thinkin I'm finna bust 'em, wait
Look up and see the police is lookin' at me
I tell C, he tell Doug, they tell KT

We proceed to surround 'em and call the [Incomprehensible]
Pick the perfect spot to make sure that the girls see
Was watchin' off for doin' the drink, he say what? What you think
Then he call, from then on you can see nothin' but bottles

Remy Martin to the noggin, better bust it wide open
Ya bitch standin' here hollerin' while you lyin' on the floor, shit
Why you feelin' sorry for him? He asked for it
Listen, ya'll, here come the moral of the story

Watch what you say to me
You see me, you know I'm two'd up
You don't wanna see me cut the full grip
Well, watch what you say to me
Let me find out you talkin' tough in your song
When you see me you know what's up, boy, it's on

Nigga, what you say to me
You see 'cause I ain't been a fuck, nigga, never
I'm just warnin' all you, sucka niggas
Better watch what you say to me
'Cuz I'm known to make a mountain outta molehill
You don't want to get your folk killed
Well, watch what you say to me

Rap music is sudden ain't it, the way these pictures is painted
You swear these niggas is dangerous, the gangsta shit they be sayin'
Lock 'em up in the booth with a half a ounce of that Cannibus
Sittin' back and watch the Outlandish shit they betrayin' but

Soon as you see 'em they freeze up like in museums
Them statues you like, is that the dude who said he was gonna pop?
Niggas, get runnin' before you finish your sentence
And then they back to riffin' when they off in a safe distance

You, like you was just here, you disappeared like magicians in thin air
I'm like damn, nigga, at least keep it consistent
I hear you debatin' me lately, I've been doin' my best to stay hater free
Still watch what you say to me

Sooner or later I'll take you up on your offer
And put you all in your place like I'm replacing your father
You talkin' to the author, the architect of the blueprint
My DNA in your music, mothafucker, are you stupid?

Watch what you say to me
You see me, you know I'm two'd up
You don't wanna see me cut the full grip
Well, watch what you say to me
Let me find out you talkin' tough in your song
When you see me you know what's up, boy, it's on

Nigga, what you say to me
You see 'cause I ain't been a fuck, nigga, never
I'm just warnin' all you, sucka niggas
Better watch what you say to me
'Cuz I'm known to make a mountain outta molehill
You don't want to get your folk killed
Well, watch what you say to me

'Cuz I ain't never been a sucka, been gangsta my whole life
So a nigga disrespect me and it's on on sight
I hear what you say in your songs, some of it I don't like
Heat it up, I feel tried, I see you, we gon' fight

Be a man, say my name if you talkin' to me
You never said, well, I figured you ain't talkin' to me
Find out you is at the awards, well, I'll call you out in the street
I swear I'll beat your fuckin' ass like it ought to be beat

See all that whisperin' is lame, I ain't one for the game
If I say, fuck you then it's fuck you, nigga, simple and plain
I say, no problem, it's no problem, pimp then you do the same
Now you can just swallow your pride 'cuz you know I'm off the chain

Try to refrain from bein' violent but you come out your face
I got my lawyer paid already to catch me a case
When I feel you disrespected me I'ma get me a case
But all this shit can be avoided one way

Watch what you say to me
You see me, you know I'm two'd up
You don't wanna see me cut the full grip
Well, watch what you say to me
Let me find out you talkin' tough in your song
When you see me you know what's up, boy, it's on

Nigga, what you say to me
You see 'cause I ain't been a fuck, nigga, never
I'm just warnin' all you, sucka niggas
Better watch what you say to me
'Cuz I'm known to make a mountain outta molehill
You don't want to get your folk killed
Well, watch what you say to me

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24c5749510e0a13ee4411f40c17aa206

Get Em High - Lyrics - College Dropout - Kanye West

Title: Get Em High
Album: College Dropout
Artist: Kanye West
Composer(s): Lonnie Rashid Lynn, Kanye West, Talib Kweli

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

Lyric:
I'm tryin' to catch the beat
I'm tryin' to catch the beat
I'm tryin' to catch the beat
I'm tryin' to catch the beat

Now, throw ya motherfuckin' hands
Get em high
All the girls pass the weed to ya motherfuckin' man
Get em high
Now, I ain't never tell you to put down ya hands
Keep em high
And if ya losin' yo high then smoke again
Keep em high

Now, my flow is in the pocket like Wallace
I got the bounce like hydraulics
I can't call it, I got the swerve like alcoholics
My freshman year I was goin' through hella problems
'Til I built up the nerve to drop my ass up outta college

My teacher said I'se a loser, I told her, "Why don't you kill me?
I give a fuck if you fail me, I'm gonna follow
My heart and if you follow the charts to the plaques or the stacks"
You ain't gotta guess who's back, you see?

I'm so shy that you thought it was bashful
But this bastard's flow will bash a skull
And I will cut your girl like Pastor Tro
And I don't usually smoke but pass the dro

And I won't give you that money that you askin' fo'
Why you think me and dame cool? We assholes
That's why we here your music in fast fo'
'Cuz we don't wanna here that weak shit no mo'

Now, throw ya motherfuckin' hands
Get em high
All the girls pass the weed to ya motherfuckin' man
Get em high
Now, I ain't never tell you to put down ya hands
Keep em high
And if ya losin' yo high then smoke again
Keep em high

Now who the hell is this?
E-mailin' me at 11:26, tellin' me
That she 36-26, plus double-d
You know how girls on Black Planet be
When they get bubblee

At NYU but she hailed from Kansas
Right now she just lampin', chillin' on campus
Sent me a picture with her feelin' on Candice
Who said her favorite rapper was the late great Francis

W-H-I-T, it's gettin' late mami
Your screen saver say tweet so you got to call me
And bring a friend for my friend his name Kweli
You mean Talib, lyric sticks to your rib
I mean that's my favorite CD that I play at my crib

I mean you don't really know him, why is you lyin'?
Yo Kwe, she don't believe me, please pickup the line
She gon' think that I'm lyin', just spit a couple of lines
Then maybe I'll be able to give her dick all the time and get her high

I can't believe this nigga use my name for pickin' up dimes
But never mind I need some tracks you tryin' to pull tracks out
And my rhymes as fittin' to blow you, tryin' to blow backs out
Well okay you twisted my arm, I'll assist with the charm, aiyo
Ain't you meet that chick at that conference with yo moms?

And she's the bomb, boy, she got the bougey behavior
Always got somethin' to say like a okayplaya hater
Anyway, I don't usually fuck with the interneter

Chicks with birth control stuck to they arm like Nicolette
You really fuckin' that much, you tryin' to get off cigarettes
If she think it's fly, she ain't met a real nigga yet
I apologize if I come off a little inconsiderate
I got the bubble cushion, a sister could get a hit of it

Get em high like noon or the moon
Or room filled with smoke, a high filled with dope
Y'all assumed I was doomed out of tune
But I still feel the notes the real nigga quotes

Real rappers is hard to find like a remote control, rap is not a
Used soup it still got life, that's why I abuse you who are not thugs
Rock clubs like Tiger Woods
In the hood to have my own reality show
Called Soul Survivor, I stole all liver, niggaz in you
You'se a bitch, I got ones that are thicker than you

How could I ever let your words affect me?
They say Hip-Hop is dead, I'm here to resurrect me
Mosh is too sexy to even make songs like these
That's why the raw don't know your name, like Alicia Keys

To many featured emcees and producers is popular
Twelve thousand spins, nobody got to coppin' her
Album, how come, you the hot garbager
The years clear your image and snooped up

Label got you souped up, tellin' you, you sick
Man you a dick with a loose nut
Video hard to watch like Medusa
Even your club record need a booster

Chimped up, with a pimp cup, illiterate nigga
Read the infa, red across your head I'm bread king like Simba
Bolder than Denver I ain't a mad rapper
Just a emcee with a temper

You dancin' for money like honey, I did this my way
So when the industry crash, I survived like Kanye
Spittin' through wires and fires, emcees retirin'
Got yo hands up, get them motherfuckers higher then

Now, throw ya motherfuckin' hands
Get em high
All the girls pass the weed to ya motherfuckin' man
Get em high
Now, I ain't never tell you to put down ya hands
Keep em high
And if ya losin' yo high then smoke again
Keep em high

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d7c76299f879fe553580900278dfb2fa

Hate On Me - Lyrics - Smoke Boogie: Space Oddessey - Kurupt

Title: Hate On Me
Album: Smoke Boogie: Space Oddessey
Artist: Kurupt
Composer(s): Damani Washington, Ricardo Brown, Joseph Brooks

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

Lyric:
Yo, if rappin' was a bitch you'd have no pussy
Maybe tongue kissin', but still no pussy
Lookin' at me dumb I'll slap you so dizzy
Suppa so busy cockin' the four fizzy
Mad 'cause, I'm too fly and I pumped your ho

Crushed your flow you got jealous club me for
I sensed the hate, I used my optical
You was too close around when I pocket doe
First came the wishin', then came the bitchin'
Wanna know the secrets comin' from the kitchen

I was fine dinin', you was eatin' chicken
I'll bust a bad ho, nigger take your pickin'
Like a slut callin' bitches on my cell phone
But my bitches, try to take my fly bitches
I ain't just trippin', I can't trust niggas who ain't us?

Bringin' niggas who can't bust
I'm A+ wid it, I'm anxious to crush ya
Half tustla mixed with you just a busta
Bitch ass niggas get me rich fast quicka
Now don't tricka this supa ass kicka

Why do you hate on me?
'Cause I don't be trippin' off you
My image is stuck on G
Try to fuck with me this year
Get the 'beep' outta here
I'm so up on my shit
These bitches ain't gettin' my grip
So I still remain a G
But why do you hate on me?

How you gone hate on me? And I'm that nigga
That ride beats smoother than Ron Isley
Talkin' bout fuck Damani but steady eyein' me
Steady tryin' to see how good sex with me could be
Why won't you let me fuck?

And I'm the best thing goin', and you the best thing hoin'
Plus we got you on tape givin' head in slow motion
Undercover ho's be real soft spoken, why would you slash my tire?
And I got stock in Goodyear, bitch I'm all good year
Tryin' to fuck up my clutch so I'm forced to change gears

Dark skin, go tee with no beard
I change ho's like I change clothes
Young devil in the city o' angels
Keep it ghetto like cups with staples
Live from L.A. gettin' head from Rachel, now

Why do you hate on me?
'Cause I don't be trippin' off you
My image is stuck on G
Try to fuck with me this year
Get the 'beep' outta here
I'm so up on my shit
These bitches ain't gettin' my grip
So I still remain a G
But why do you hate on me?

Why do bitches blow dicks? I don't know that
But I can tell you dis, you simple trick
Now you get it all you want
We roll joints we don't fuck with blunts, fuck a blunt now
Some niggas is worse than ho's

Holdin' somethin' on your chest let it go
I'll make a bitch blow balls like a ball and sing that song, but naked
Most o' y'all niggas be break and hatin' records
The most hatin' done in 8.5 seconds
Why you hatin' Snoopy, you hate Nate and hate me

Why you hatin' stupid and hatin' on Warren G
Why you hatin' Rasco, why you hate Damani
'Cause he wanna fuck Armani and don't wear Armani
Hatin' Gondee and hatin' Tredee, Tredee is like fuck' em
If they hatin the G, fuck y'all

Why do you hate on me?
'Cause I don't be trippin' off you
My image is stuck on G
Try to fuck with me this year
Get the 'beep' outta here
I'm so up on my shit
These bitches ain't gettin' my grip
So I still remain a G
But why do you hate on me?

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674484aad87ddf8314df6bad1034a0b5

Roc The Mic - Lyrics - Beanie Sigel

Title: Roc The Mic
Artist: Beanie Sigel
Composer(s): Tohri Murphy Lee Harper, Leslie Pridgen, Jason Epperson, Cornell Haynes, Dwight Grant, J Smith

Lyric:
Ho, ho
Bounce
Holla
Bounce, bounce, bounce

It's B. Sig in the place with Young Free
And I got what it takes to rock the mic right
Still watch what you say out your mouth
'Cause 50 shots still will burn the club out

I miss the hood when I'm travelin', get neck when I'm travelin'
Chicks peck wood when I'm travelin'
Fuck a Lex 'cause the click fit good in the Caravan
Slide through your hood like an avalanche

Take a flick if you get a chance get that close
Fuck an advance, 'cause I get that dough
Beef with me, enemies come sleep with me for breakfast
Guaranteed to eat this toast

I'm reckless, fire starter, heat your folks
A starvin' artist that a eat y'all tracks, so don't bring 'em around
I be around 'Ricans Vida loca
They all got the toasters, don't need no gats
I got six stashed leave 'em around

So I don't get left around haters around when I leave
In the winter, rock short sleeves reason the pound
With the heat blastin', keep actin' the heat blastin'
Tech no Marine shinin', Marine fashion back 'em down
Niggas gonna keep hatin' and my click gon' keep grindin'
Keep movin', lockin' the town

It's Freeway in the place with B. Sig
And I got what it takes to rock the mic right, yeah
Still watch what you say to me prick
'Cause I got what it takes to dump the AK clip

It's B. Sig in the place with Young Free
And I got what it takes to rock the mic right, yeah
Still watch what you say out your mouth
'Cause 50 shot still will turn the club out, ho

It's Mack, daddy, young, scrappy
No he ain't the OG gangsta
Yes I is, come on don't test I kid
I firebomb cribs like Left Eye did

Notorious like that Bed-Stuy kid, B.I.G. or small you can get it
Dead wrong, like tryin' to brawl a strong armored midget
I pull the nine out my pocket I'm lyin'
I pull the Mac out the closet, start firin'

For you cats outta pocket, stop tryin'
Take that, get back, clap iron
You know, stay low, keep firin', uh
I put the led in the gat, the metal go clap

I lay cats flat on they back, stop fuckin' with this radical cat
You fuck around and need a medical cat
The led will go clap, your head will go back, uh
It's B. Sig in the place to be
With two heater on the waist of me, man who's facin' me

It's Freeway in the place with B. Sig
And I got what it takes to rock the mic right, yeah
Still watch what you say to me prick
'Cause I got what it takes to dump the AK clip

Big nickels down your way don't trip
Get folded down your way, got soldiers down your way
Keep quiet down your way no lip
All of y'all need to run yo'self

Go get the burna nigga, bang yo'self
Or I come through with the hammer make you lose yo' health
Fast, roll with dashes, move like Cassius Clay
Move ya like caskets, there's a will there's a way

Obey my thirst, move ya through traffic
Without Sprite, without Nike's
I just do it bar break your basket
Yeah, you damn right, without ice

I pull up to your honey car and stuff her basket
International post player, circle the atlas
You don't wanna be ho playas, circle the hood
Bend over backwards, without searchin' for backwoods

It's Freeway in the place with B. Sig
And I got what it takes to rock the mic right, yeah
Still watch what you say to me prick
'Cause I got what it takes to dump the AK clip

It's Freeway in the place with B. Sig
And I got what it takes to rock the mic right, yeah
Still watch what you say to me prick
'Cause I got what it takes to dump the AK clip

All of y'all need to run yo'self
Go get the burna nigga bang yo'self
All of y'all need to run yo'self
Go get the burna nigga bang yo'self
Shit, shit, it's the, it's the Roc nigga, whoo, whoo, whoo
And another one, and another one

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Strictly 4 My N.I.G.G.A.Z. - Lyrics - Strictly For My N.I.G.G.A.Z. - 2pac

Title: Strictly 4 My N.I.G.G.A.Z.
Album: Strictly For My N.I.G.G.A.Z.
Artist: 2pac
Composer(s): William Earl Collins, George Jr Clinton, Tupac Shakur, Larry Darnell Goodman, Garry M Shider

Lyric:
Yo 'Law, is it cool if a nigga just get fucked up for this one?
Yeah, Mr.Fuck-a-Cop is back and I still don't give a fuck yaknahmsayin'
Puffin on this indo, in the studio with my partners out here
Pacific Heights in the house, know what I mean

I was framed, so don't make the same mistake, nigga
You gotta learn how to shake the snakes, nigga
'Cause the police love to break a nigga
Send 'em upstate cause they straight-up hate the niggaz

So what I do is get a crew of zoo niggaz
Straight fools into rules and do niggaz
And one-time had enough of me
I'm still raw so the law can't fuck with me

They wanna send me to the pen, punk picture that
I stay strapped motherfuckers better get your gat
It ain't easy bein' me I can't take it
Life as a celebrity ain't everything they make it

And ever since the movies, these hoes try to do me
If they can't screw me, they find a way to sue me
Now, can you picture me coolin' at a night club?
Nothin' but love, but motherfuckers wanna mean mug

Since I wear a lot of gold, they plot
Don't know what I got and get shot with the hot ones
And aww yeah, I wanna feel guilty
But you punk motherfuckers tried to milk me

You'll get smacked behind the hill with my phone on my pager
It's beepin' while I cut you with my razor
I'm not violent, I'm petrified and nervous

I got no mercy for these niggaz tryin' to serve us
But if you catch me outta pocket, then I'm got
You love to shoot a nigga but you scared to pop a cop, now drop it

Strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my niggaz
Strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my niggaz
Strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my niggaz
Strictly 4 my niggaz makin' G's

Reflected and disrespected, plus I'm rejected
You're just another rapper who swears he's makin' records
That's what they said whenever I would walk by
I never tripped though always kept my head up high

Eventually, I knew that I would find my way
After the darkest night, always comes a brighter day
And some would say that turned away is all you'll get
I just said, bet, and never let 'em see me sweat

'Cause in the end, I knew that I would have it all
While non-believers were prayin' for my downfall
And some would call and tell me that they wish me well
But in my heart, I'm knowin' that they wish me hell

Yo get a real job, rappin' doesn't pay the rent
I hate the studio 'cause that's where all my money went
Never surrender, it's all about the faith you've got
Don't ever stop, just push it 'til you hit the top

And if you drop, at least you know you gave your all
Be true to you and that way you can never fall
But beware these backstabbers ain't no joke
Just like a rope, they hang on you until you're broke

And when you're broke, they move onto the next dope
And there you are, can't even pay your car, nope
And when you reminisce, thinkin' how you got dissed

Remember how it felt, and then remember this
Be true to you, believe that there's no one bigger
'Cause they can all suck dick, it's strictly 4 my niggaz

Strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my niggaz
Strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my niggaz
Strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my niggaz
Strictly 4 my niggaz makin' G's

Listen, this is for the critics if you live up
Pick up my shit or I'll be back doin' stickups
I better see five stars next to my picture
If not Tupac will cop the glock and come knockin' to getcha

I told you once motherfucker I'm a nut
Play me like a butt and you'll be bleedin' when you're fucked
Niggaz know what's up but they be tryin' to hold me down
I'm comin' outta Oaktown, bitch fuck around

And it ain't where you from that makes you hardcore
Nigga, it's the way you throw them thangs in the war
And to the marks that be talkin all that shit
Screamin' out the next nigga's name like a bitch

And the niggaz that I ran into recently
The motherfuckers at the club that pulled the piece on me
You little bitches should've pulled the fuckin' trigga
Now you live in fear of a heartless-ass, nigga

Mr.Troublesome, niggaz tried to play me with the gat
But like Terminator nigga, I'll be back
Yeah, and I'll be back with a fuckin' army
You tried to harm me, ruh-ring the alarm G!

'Cause most motherfuckers love to act up
Without they backup, when they get jacked up they crack up
It's strictly for my niggaz at the show
So they know, not to play me like a ho-ho, strictly 4 my

Strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my niggaz
Strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my niggaz
Strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my niggaz
Strictly 4 my niggaz makin' G's

Strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my niggaz
Strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my niggaz
Strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my niggaz
Strictly 4 my niggaz makin' G's

Strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my niggaz
Strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my niggaz
Strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my niggaz
Strictly 4 my niggaz makin' G's

Strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my, strict-strict
Strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my, strict-strict
Strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my, strict-strict
Strictly 4 my niggaz makin' G's

Strictly, strictly, strict-strict, strictly, strictly, strict-strict
Strictly, strictly, strict-strict, strictly 4 my niggaz makin' G's

Strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my niggaz
Strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my niggaz
Strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my niggaz
Strictly 4 my niggaz makin' G's

Strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my niggaz
Strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my niggaz
Strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my, strictly 4 my niggaz
Strictly 4 my niggaz makin' G's

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