Don'T Sell Me Short - Lyrics - The New America - Bad Religion

Title: Don'T Sell Me Short
Album: The New America
Artist: Bad Religion
Composer(s): Greg Graffin

Lyric:
(We don't need)
Any more mountains
Because the trail builders
Failed to give us passage there
So we can't reach the sky

(We don't need)
Any more failure
There is human tragedy
That's written everywhere
We are all too young to die

Like a mystery that's here to stay
Some people never go away
'Cause they've got somethin' to say

Don't sell me short
(Don't sell me short)
Aah you've been wrong too long
Don't brush me off
(Don't brush me off)
Aah just because I don't belong
Like it or not I'm all you've got
Dispose when I'm shot
Just don't sell me short
Aah I might not be who you thought

(We don't need)
Any more fables
Because the writers have passed
And left us lesson less
And we must find our own way

(We don't need)
Any more privilege
There is vivid desperation
That is powerless
That no surplus can repay

Like the fix of rapture in a trance
Oh, fates are sealed by circumstance
So you've got to take a chance

Don't sell me short
(Don't sell me short)
Aah you've been wrong too long
Don't brush me off
(Don't brush me off)
Aah just because I don't belong
Pass me on by, ignore my cry
Forget me when I die
Just don't sell me short
Ooh not while I'm still alive

Everybody's talkin' about Heaven on earth
I'm still trying to figure out
Just what I'm worth
I'm full of emotion
And stuff you can't contain
And you just want to
Flush me down the drain

But you can't make me go away

Don't sell me short
(Don't sell me short)
Aah You've been wrong too long
Don't brush me off
(Don't brush me off)
Aah just because I don't belong
Like it or not I'm all you've got
Dispose me when I'm shot
Just don't sell me short
Ooh I might not be who you thought

Aah you've been wrong too long
Don't brush me off
Aah just because I don't belong
Pass me on by
And forget me when I die
Don't sell me short
Ooh

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Don'T Fight The Feelin' - Lyrics - Life Is... Too Short - Too $Hort

Title: Don'T Fight The Feelin'
Album: Life Is... Too Short
Artist: Too $Hort
Composer(s): J Brown, A Forte, J Goins, Kevin Mccord, Todd Anthony Shaw

Lyric:
Say hoe, yeah you
Can I ask you a question
You like to fuck?
Oh, you don't want me to talk to you like that
Will you like to make love?

I saw you walking down the street and I had to stop
Turn up the radio and drop the top
I see you look so good, and your so fine
Young tender, would you be mine

I get you in my car, drive you to my house
'Cuz I'm a mack, I cold turn you out
I wont ask and I sure won't beg
Reach right over and rub your leg

I let my hand slide between your miniskirt
Slip a finger in your panties, straight go to work
What time is it, don't watch the clock
Lay back, baby doll and I'll rock the cock

Funky Fresh I am, and I always can, Freak Nasty
I'm the man, I take you out to the finest restaurant
Buy you any damn thing that you want

You want flowers, I'll buy your ass a rose
But later on you're coming off with them pantyhose
You want gold, girl what's next
It's me and you, doing the sex

So now you know I'm just a freak
Give it up baby, I can't wait two weeks
I want it all, don't say I won't
Get it girl, now I'm telling you don't

Nigga please, you provoke no feeling
You must've forgot the girls of whom you're dealing
We haven't the urge to get busy
Like those dizy lizys who used to dance for you, your through

I can't put it more blunt, your vocab is restricted
You're addicted to the words you inflicted
Time after time, line after line
Talking 'bout the bitches that are on your mind

Do they call you Short because of your height or your weight?
Diss me boy, I'll hang your balls from a cliff
Wrapped around a slinky, your a dinky
It's an easy task, to the corner 'cause the curb didn't want your ass

Your name is 'Yuck Mouth', you don't brush
Gotta cover your mouth like this
They call you 'Yuck Mouth'
You refuse to brush, no sweetheart you can keep that kiss

You're a freak with no tale
You have no ass, class, you can't pass, your simply trash
You're a typical nigga, the kind you don't take home
[Incomprehensible] tights and Barbie from the dangerous zone

Like a short dogg that carries fleas
You make my ass itch, twitch, don't you wish you could scratch it
And grab it like you want it
The name fits 'cause your all up on it

Get mad if you want, I won't front
When it's time to hump, won't be no punk
Roll your ass over and tap the butt
Too $hort, baby all in them guts

I'm not your ABC, from the alphabet
Every letter I'll write'll get your pussy wet
It's just a freaky note, from me to you
At the bottom I signed it Playboy II

I'm a player, bitch, I thought you knew
Like every other nigga in my crew
I bump hoes, now it's your turn
Tell me young tender when will you learn

I cold mack like pimps you know
Won't sell you dope or sell you blow
Just your average everyday straight bump up bitch
My gold rings come from spitz

Look, baby, you know what I want
You're acting like it's that time of the month
Are you bleeding, can't think about sex
Irritated by your Kotex

We don't need to kiss, we don't have to fuck
I'll pull out my dick, bitch, you can suck
Now here, don't say I won't
Get it, girl, now I'm telling you don't

Punk, I'm not a tease, I'm not a skeezer
And most definitely not a dick pleaser
You dreaming and scheming and fiending for my lust
You don't have enough, for you I feel disgust

Wait, small thing I hate
For goodness sakes, if I wanted someone small I would masturbate
I'm not talking 'bout your height, weight or what you dream
When I say too short, you know what I mean

You see, I need man, not a boy to approach me
Your lame game, really insults me
Your name is Too Short or shall I say 'Too Skinny'
If size were money honey, you wouldn't have a penny

Little boy, you're not a player, I'm your savior
To try to get at me shows your bodacious behavior
I have to sit on my feet to come down to your level
Your mother should have hung you, from her umbilical cord

If she would have known your mission
Okay little boy, here's a proposition
You wanna bit of danger, step you to my zone
You call yourself a dogg, thatz how I'll send you home

With your tail between your legs, screeching and whining
Jealous of you got some, nigga please you're lying
Cause I fight the feeling, that would have to be one
And mathematically, me plus you equals none

I am the rapper that they call 4 tay
I'm gon' tell you like my homie Short Dogg would say
Hoes in the world, trying to play it sweet
Knowing damn well that they wanna freak

Some do this for maybe a week
And then it's cool to get up under the sheets
Trying to work that thang but she said no
That's about as far as it's going to go

So I toss and turn to make it loose
Finally she feels the act right juice
Some of you hoes say, "Oh, that's nasty"
Back of your coat say sweet and sassy

24 deep, that's how you sleep
Undercover freak every day of the week
You see some of you freaks just need to quit it
Playing that role like you ain't with it

The rest of you freaks just won't admit it
Especially when you know just who can get it
Ain't nobody tripping 'cuz I know I'm right
You could be black or you could be white

For a black girl it really don't take too long
But a white girl's always tryin' to turn ya on
With a little squeze, but it's just a tease
Give her some time, she'll be on her knees

Then I'll pick her up, so I can work the butt
Baby, I just wanna try to bust a nut
But don't get me wrong 'cause you started it all
Coming to my house in a camisole

But when it's time for me to shove
Then you front on all that love
First you said that I deserve it
Now you fight, don't want to serve it

Gave it some time, so make up your mind
Don't fight the feeling, it's time to unwind
You was talking 'bout you gunna give my some
But I'm Rappin' 4 Tay, it don't make me numb

Yeah man, the little hoes got ill
So now it's time to get way to real
I know they never have some real dick
They need to quit talking that childish shit

You wanna rank hoe, go get your bank hoe
My little dick'll have you screaming though
Because when it comes to sex, you don't know what's up
You're still playing that finger fuck

See I'm a grown man, I bust some young cock out
I like big butts, not big mouths
I know some little girls'll break you down in bed
Pull your drawers down, give you some head

But little girl, you wanna have some fun
You better go to magic mountain 'cuz your way too young
So at this point, I can't really say shit
Ain't dropping no lines, I'll just call you a bitch, beyotch

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Trill Niggas Don’t Die - Lyrics - Stop N Go - Ugk

Title: Trill Niggas Don’t Die
Album: Stop N Go
Artist: Ugk
Composer(s): Paul Jackson, J Mcvey, Bernard James Freeman, Joseph Howard Jr., John Okuribido, Dino Fekaris, Chad L Butler, Nick Zesses

Lyric:
I pack that nine every time and I ain't trying dying
Pussy nigga
I pack that nine every time and I ain't trying dying

I just wanna celebrate 'cause trill niggaz don't die
I just wanna celebrate 'cause trill niggaz don't die
I just wanna celebrate 'cause trill niggaz don't die
I just wanna celebrate 'cause trill niggaz don't die

Pussy nigga, thinking you gon' kill me
I got some'ing for your ass, nigga you gon' feel me
I'ma blow you out the wate, with the 2-23
Putting dick up in your daughter, rap is over I serve some cheese

Nigga talking 'bout robbing Chad
Run up on me with that first will leave you stinking in the grass
If you're Cathlic go to mass, if you're Baptist go to church
See a hoe up in a nigga, gon' pull up a skirt

That'll be some incredible shit
Niggaz scheming on my bezel, on some devilish shit
I been to hell and back, on another level you bitch
Go on try it I'm going live, they gon' need a shovel for you bitch

I just wanna celebrate 'cause trill niggaz don't die
I just wanna celebrate 'cause trill niggaz don't die
I just wanna celebrate 'cause trill niggaz don't die
I just wanna celebrate 'cause trill niggaz don't die

I been stabbed I been shot, went from no fans to being hot
But somehow always fall short, for trying to keep fiddles in my pot
In a doggy dog world, y'all fellas be chasing girls
When I place myself in history, too hot for a ladder to catch me

But I can't help but to notice, I'm one of the coldest
And I know y'all haters love when I'm locked up, but I won't lose focus
Yeah I wrote this counting down, how many days I got
So lately my gun ain't been hid, it's been displayed a lot

My attitude is fucked up, I don't give a fuck 'cause I just don't give one
Thinking 'bout living a life where everything
You do right is wrong, mo'fucker I live one
I know niggaz wanna kill me but I'm still riding pride
'Cause the Lord riding with me and that's the main reason why

I just wanna celebrate 'cause trill niggaz don't die
I just wanna celebrate 'cause trill niggaz don't die
I just wanna celebrate 'cause trill niggaz don't die
I just wanna celebrate 'cause trill niggaz don't die

Some niggaz win and some niggaz lose
Some niggaz getting bruised, some always crying the blues
Some niggaz already lost and ain't gon' lose no mo'
Big shoes, hoe choose, ain't paying dues no mo'

Everything y'all trying to do, I built a school hoe
Now it's fly to talk country, I made the rules hoe
I was sagging in my khaki's 'fore Dickie's was cool
Gangsta Nike's on my feet, our music banging in the streets

The young B.G.'s, really love to fuck
Fuck radio and BET, I'm out here bumping in the trunk
For the girls popping pussy and the boys with the blow
Cadillac'ers and flat-backers, I'm out here ripping for it hoe

I just wanna celebrate 'cause trill niggaz don't die
I just wanna celebrate 'cause trill niggaz don't die
I just wanna celebrate 'cause trill niggaz don't die
I just wanna celebrate 'cause trill niggaz don't die

Can't any man, boy or woman take away my soul
It's a gift given from God and I'm keeping a tight hold
The world is ugly and cold, trying to make me the same
But I'ma keep it one hundred, when it come to the game

Tame attitude, they get the wolves to grouping up
They laying boys down, they future they scooping up
We keep it click tight, so when niggaz start lurking
In the dark heaters start, anybody start jerking

Put my work in on the reg', the powder in the keg
A dragging society, don't borrow don't beg
For tomorrow so gon' 'head with your pity, I'ma be cool
Kindergarteners was looking up to me in pre-school

Down with Pimp C fool and P A T the town
Representing it to the fullest, till I'm gone I hold it down
Bun Beater, would never sell you no lie
So if you ask for the truth, I'ma reply to trill niggaz don't die

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Mind On Our Money - Lyrics - BTNHResurrection - Bone Thugs N Harmony

Title: Mind On Our Money
Album: BTNHResurrection
Artist: Bone Thugs N Harmony
Composer(s): Steven Howse, Charles Scruggs, Tim Middleton, Stanley Howse, Anthony Henderson, Byron Mc Cane

Lyric:
People ask me how do you maintain
You got to keep your mind on money
(T H U G)
Don't let the snakes ever short you for ya change
Nigga, let 'em know how much you want it

People ask me how do you maintain
You got to keep your mind on money
(T H U G)
Don't let the snakes ever short you for ya change
Nigga, let 'em know how much you want it

Nigga 1993, hooked up with Eazy E
1994, rushin' through the door with the bone flow
Nigga was creepin' on a come up, doin' it for the love of money
1995 we really let 'em know, Cleveland is the city where we come from

Brought styles muthafuckas never heard before
But we never got our props
Till we dropped that said song, see you at the crossroad
But the man know, Eazy runnin' with the lost souls, rest in peace

That was 1996, we back in the mix
I guess they thought that we'd gon' quit but we got love for this shit
But everything started changin', business rearrangin'
Then the time when bone and ruthless wasn't vibin'

Tried to keep my mind together through that industry shit
Somehow I'm feelin' like what I deserve I didn't get
But I'ma stick it out, believe I'ma keep my head up
And show my loyalty for Eazy E, even though I'm fed up

1997 hey, everybody grab ya weapon, it's the art of war
It don't stop, it won't stop until we drop, body rott
Not to mention when we venture through the family scriptures
1999 nigga, still strugglin'

Tryna get some money with this mastermind I'm jugglin'
Sharpen up ya thug mentality
And by the year 2000 I'll be thuggin' but so I'm [unverified]
I gotta get some money, blast if I get hungry
So if you read that i done flipped, then you know the story, about me

People ask me how do you maintain
You got to keep your mind on money
(T H U G)
Don't let the snakes ever short you for ya change
Nigga, let 'em know how much you want it

Take a good look into my eyes and all over my face your bloody death
With a bloody bloody, mess, I'm servin' you none the less
[Unverified] that crazy muthafucka
From the world's most dangerous group

Mo thugs nation, [unverified] on your life
That's absolutely what I'm gon' do
Blast at them niggas who thought they knew me
Now I'm that muthafucka that be [unverified], the nigga that bust all y'all

My mission in life to be the coldest nigga that ever spit shit on the mic
I'm comin' in smooth, rockin' this Hip-Hop music just the way you like
Tellin' all biters to please stop tryin'
Let it go fry fool, when I make my move, all y'all gonna die

Split up and fry, open his eyes [unverified] pop
Shot one through his head
Oh my, oh my, now look what you made me do, this nigga dead
It ain't my fault, you niggas too soft, ain't got no skill

Now look through the [unverified] stop steel
Y'all some fake-thug livin' tryna get notice by hangin' with stars
No need to say no names, niggas know who the fuck you are
We all true sound, nigga united gatherin' souls, how we roll

And that's love for the paper, foldin', I saw these hoes
But I had my [unverified] nah, nigga that's my nuts [unverified]
Don't touch that
And then he won't hesitate to buck for the love

You can't dust on these bustas, so they die
They only got love for those who love me
In the meanwhile I main to keepin' my mind on my money
And no, this shit that we spit ain't funny
Especially when you hungry, nigga
With no hustle, nigga, to get them funds

People ask me how do you maintain
You got to keep your mind on money
(T H U G)
Don't let the snakes ever short you for ya change
Nigga, let 'em know how much you want it

In '91 I'm runnin' from the fuckin' cops, don't ya know it
That bitch was tryna' find a hidin' spot, he show it
Know niggas that'd had no pussy
Said that would never read or get to L.A.

And niggas went cannibal on 'em, either
Smokin' that reefer, niggas know how I'm livin'
'Cause I was havin' children when y'all was lookin' for women
But mine aside, so why you tellin' your same [unverified]

When niggas ain't have shit, tell me who's the one that ride
We gon' ride ride though, you can call me Mr. Murda-Mo
Get [unverified], burn the whole store down all by myself
[unverified] for fuckin' with the bone flow

Heaven and Earth, God and my loved one and ya gotta roll
And what you want my people to hear, that I'm a fuckin' sell-out?
But who's the one on solo shit and who want me the hell out?
I'll bail out with a [unverified], that pussy makes me change

Or expansion on the mansion or acres in the shooting range
Shootin' thangs, it don't make you a villain
(Shootin' thangs)
The villain is chillin' with his children
Bitch, I keeps it real

People ask me how do you maintain
You got to keep your mind on money
(T H U G)
Don't let the snakes ever short you for ya change
Nigga, let 'em know how much you want it

I keep my mind on my money, my money on my mind
A straight up soldier in the field out here pushin' my line
Nigga designed a gold crime as I'm racin' through this obstacle
007, Layzie Bone, knew it was possible

Got shot, got out the hospital, started on my mission
Listen, nigga pay attention
Oh, and did I mention, had a tape before I crept on a come up,
Faces of death

Blessin' 40 O-Z's, lay and leatherface and double Z's [unverified]
Niggas often wonder why my mind on my money
Nigga these bitches all up on me and half the industry phony
It's like this nigga, i don't even fuck around

If a nigga ain't got no money for lay, I'll come around
Ain't it funny how niggas turn funny-style
When they think they fall in trinkets, ain't even ran a mile
See my niggas doin' a damn thing, flesh

Trues humbly united gatherin' souls, just to let you know
Heaven's movie, yours truly, Mr. Gambini
it's the mentality and next to the baddest, Little Stevie
And when you ask me how i maintain

I watch my niggas rule, act a fool and ace the game
Mo thug one, witness the family scriptures
Mo thug two, family reunion comin' to get ya
Mo thug three, presentation of the mothership
Niggas on some other shit, by smoke and maintain

People ask me how do you maintain
You got to keep your mind on money
(T H U G)
Don't let the snakes ever short you for ya change
Nigga, let 'em know how much you want it

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Palmdale - Lyrics - The Good Times - Afroman

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Life Is 2009 - Lyrics - Underground Kingz - Ugk

Title: Life Is 2009
Album: Underground Kingz
Artist: Ugk
Composer(s): Chad Butler, Bernard Freeman, Randy Jefferson, Brad Jordan, Todd Shaw

Lyric:
Yeah, see I remember, how it all began
I used to slang dirty raps to my P.A. fans
And back then, I knew you couldn't stop this flow
No other MC around can go like I go

I brought the new style in and the bass it got crunker
I bought me a slab and now I'm a pop trunker
Do I wanna rap or swang on 4's?
Your brother's comin' down slammin' Cadillac do's

People tellin' me that it's just my time
They know it's UGK for life and I get down for mine
14 on the mic and you never seen me play
Big, big chain and comin' straight up outta P.A.

Quote out the Texas, the land of the trill
And fuck your diamonds man these boys done put a gun to your grill
It's Bun Beeda, you know that I be reppin', Mayne
See we done said it befo', but we gon' say it again

Life is, Too $hort don't you agree?
While I'm livin' my life, don't fuck with me
Life is, Too $hort, whippin' the slab
Comin' down blowin' sweets and hurtin' hoes on the ave

I've been crushin' these niggaz, me and Bun B
Been a legend since 1993
Gimme thirty thousand and I'll serve ya some heat
I'll write your rhymes, sang the hook and I'll make ya a beat

I used to dream about this shit, now my money is legit
Ain't no mo' ridin' up that ten with that shit tryin' to win
I let the young whippersnapper take all the risks
They'll serve a nigga dope and now it's all on a disk

Keep a bad yella bitch and a thick young brown
Top dropped down when I'm ridin' through the town
Y'all call 'em trues', we call 'em Vogues
They call 'em shorties, we call 'em hoes

Y'all niggaz behind still playin' wit'cha nose
I got two matchin' Bentleys just bought me a Rolls
My momma drive a BM and my girl got a Benz
Watchin' life through my rear view I see haters in my lens

Life is, Too $hort don't you agree?
While I'm livin' my life, don't fuck with me
Life is, Too $hort, whippin' the slab
Comin' down blowin' sweets and hurtin' hoes on the ave

Life is too short, that's what I always say
We wasn't homies last week so don't call me today
I ain't got nuttin' for you, can't loan you shit
Don't you hate when broke niggaz be on yo' dick?

I can make a lot of money, I know I can
But the mo' I make, the mo' I spend
Lot of cash in my pockets just to show my friends
I can put it in the bank to buy fo' mo' rims

For my fo' do' Benz, with the royal blue paint
Sometimes you wanna quit, but you know you can't
You gotta keep hustlin' or you lose it all
If you choose to ball you pay your dues and fall

I said fuck bein' broke, if I gotta sell coke
I'ma rock the shit up and raise hell with my folks
I'll be posted on the block, at night I gotta get mine
I'll pimp hoes and I do white collar crimes

'Cause life is, Too $hort don't you agree?
While I'm livin' my life, don't fuck with me
Life is, Too $hort, whippin' the slab
Comin' down blowin' sweets and hurtin' hoes on the ave

Now life is to some people unbearable
They tellin' on they homeboys and that's terrible
Was it way too much time or nothin' big?
'Cause if you tell on us, we'll be splittin' your wig

Now my freedom is to me my main asset
So I'ma keep it 100 and give like I get
Chill at the Ponderosa and smoke that good
I'm tryin' to get rich while I rep for the hood

See everybody's got that same old dream
Of big cars, bad bitches and a mountain of cream
Drive a brand new Bentley, Benzo or a Beem
But ain't none of that worth tellin' on yo' team

It's on you homeboy, so what'chu gon' do
You need to take my advice and stop snitchin' fool
Or you can close yo' ears and run yo' mouth
But when they catch you homeboy you'll soon find out

Life is, Too $hort don't you agree?
While I'm livin' my life, don't fuck with me
Life is, Too $hort, whippin' the slab
Comin' down blowin' sweets and hurtin' hoes on the ave

Life is, Too $hort don't you agree?
While I'm livin' my life, don't fuck with me
Life is, Too $hort, whippin' the slab
Comin' down blowin' sweets and hurtin' hoes on the ave

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Life Is..Too Short - Lyrics - Life Is... Too Short - Too $Hort

Title: Life Is..Too Short
Album: Life Is... Too Short
Artist: Too $Hort
Composer(s): Roger Ball, Malcolm Duncan, Stephen Ferrone, Alan Gorrie, Owen Mcintyre, Todd Shaw, Hamish Stuart

Lyric:
I remember how it all began
I used to sing dirty raps to my East side fans
Back then I knew you couldn't stop this rap
No M.C. could rock like that

Then the new style came, the bass got deeper
You gave up the mike and bought you a beeper
Do you wanna rap or sell Coke?
Brothers like you ain't never been broke

People wanna say it's just my time
Brothers like me had to work for mine
Eight years on the mike and I'm not jokin'
Sir Too Short comin' straight from Oakland

California, home of the rock
Eight woofers in the trunk, beatin' down the block
Short Dog, I'm that rappin' man
I said it before and I 'll say it again

Life is too short, too short
Life is too short, too short

Life is to some people is unbearable
Committin' suicide and that's terrible
Was it much too much or nothing' big?
If you live my life, you'd be fightin' to live

Life is to me my main asset
I be doin' all right and keep it just like that
Chill out at the house and pump that bass
I'm tryin' to get rich as I rock the place

Everybody's got that same old dream
To have big money and fancy things
Drive a brand new Benz, keep your bank right here
Never hear me stutter once 'cause I talk real clear

It's on you, homeboy, watcha gonna do?
You can take my advice and start workin', fool
Or you can close your ears and run your mouth
And one day, homeboy, you soon find out

Life is too short, too short
Life is too short, too short

Life is too short, would you agree?
While I'm livin' my life, don't mess with me
It's been a long time, baby, since I first got down
But I still keep makin' these funky sounds

'Cause I don't stop rappin', that's my theme
I make a lot of money, do you know what I mean?
Like this, complicated you must stay up
You asked a simple question boy, don't say, "What?"

You only live once and you callin' it hell
Policeman tryin' to take you to jail
You could give a man time but you don't know
In a matter of time, I'll be runnin' the show

Now another young buck wants to be on top
Makin' big money, slangin' hop
The task force tryin' to peel your cap
Turn around, homeboy, you better watch your back

Life is too short
Life is

You can take back all the things you give
But you can't take back the days you live
Life is to some people who've been on earth
Livin' every single day for what it's worth

I live my life just how I please
Satisfy one person I know, that's me
Work hard for the things I achieve in life
And never rap fake when I'm on the mike

'Cause if a dream is all you got, homeboy
You gotta turn that dream into the real McCoy
No time to waste, just get on that case
You can't be down 'cause you need to taste

A good life livin' like a king on a throne
Gettin' everything you want and tryin' to have all your own
So life, don't be stupid though
'Cause when you waste it, you'll know

Life is, life is
All right, that's it

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19cfb61582c9d46e1a87661e69cb6a02

40 - Rules & Regulations - Lyrics - E

Title: 40 - Rules & Regulations
Artist: E
Composer(s): Ricardo Thomas, Earl Stevens

Lyric:
My killers don't take out dopefiends, my killers take out factors
My killers ain't even from out here dude
My killers some out-of-town freelancers
Professional henchmen with yellow hoppers up under they belt
Broccolis up under they belt
A gang of silent murder beefs up under they belt
Forty, there go that nigga
That sold you that half-a-cake last week on the set

You mean that soap for that synthetic dope
That ripped me, that shit that was wet kid?
Don't even look over there, act like we ain't trippin'
Within the next few days, potnah came up missin'
See a lot of these niggaz bitch up
And crack under pressure when it's time they facin'
Get to bumpin' they gums, rollin' over
Breakin' the rules and regulations

Wild nigga not stickin' to the script
And get the jacket put on yo' ass for life
What jacket? Batch, this jacket
That reliable source, that rat, the head of mice
That's why we can't be talkin'
And bein' all careless on these phones
I know technology now allows po'-po' to look inside walls
And see inside homes, I know all I was tryin' to do

Is buy my little daughter a brand new pair of Jordans
That's important, but you gotta remember
To stay one step ahead of the law enforcement
Be short with all of yo' shit
Keep yo' business to yourself and don't get sloppy
Talkin' pig-Latin keep you employed
Sizzoldiers with choppers and walkie-tizznalkies
Call on yo' ass, have wisdom, use your brain

Auction off yo' assets nigga, sell yo' trophies, sell yo' Mustang
You know what that bring? Ching, ching
Playa potnah motherfucker dude that's some mail
Convertible top, black on black interior exterior
He gon' be worth about twelve
Talkin' about you was savin' it for your little nephew to scatter
Nigga don't you know anything over 20 years old is a classic?

Regulation number 1
Keep yo' business to yo' lonesome
Regulation number 2
Make sure the product you carry is wholesome
Regulation number 3
Make yo' cheese, never eat it
Regulation number 4
Never put yo' trust in a hoe
(The rules and regulations)

These are the things you need to know
(The rules and regulations)
These are the things you need to know
(The rules and regulations)

These are the things you need to know
(The rules and regulations)
These are the things you need to know
(The rules and regulations)

Uhh, you're 'posed to, you're 'posed to
Play that damn game like it's supposed to be plinayed
Always keep a bucket full of battery acid
To throw yo' dope in just in case they raid
That way they can't prosecute your residence
'Cuz you done been already got rid of all the evidence
Tryin' to get a buck, a buck?
A soup pot, a blender and a measurin' cup

In my section eight apartment complex
Messy mattress and dirty carpets
"Nephew, did you get my message?"
Yeah, I got yo' message
You told me to clean up behind myself
And scrape the residue up off the edges
"What else?" Always look over my headrest
And my rearview zone

'Cuz triflin' be skanless and the skanless might try
To follow me home
Never tell a motherfucker what time you gon' cop
Or come back through
Throw they ass off a bit, come back within the next day or two
I don't need no cowards, just warriors on my team
I don't sell coke, no more dude, I sell mescaline

Regulation number 5
When it's a drop nigga park yo' feet
Regulation number 6
Fuck 12 and a box [unverified] [unverified] street
Regulation number 7
Don't take yo' business to where you livin'
Regulation number 8
Keep yo' heat but fly straight
(The rules and regulations)

These are the things you need to know
(The rules and regulations)
These are the things you need to know
(The rules and regulations)

These are the things you need to know
(The rules and regulations)
These are the things you need to know
(The rules and regulations)

Blaow, pushin' numbers on the dial-tone
Took a swig of my 40 but I forgot I had the cap still on
Look to my left and ask, honey for a light
She looked at me and said, "Baby, you alright?"
I said I'm cool but ain't this shit supposed to relax us?
Fired up a Newport, but I accidentally lit it backwards
For some strange reason I had a feelin'
That, that hood-hoe bitch was sneaky

Come to find out this bitch done laced my weed
And slipped me a mickey, now I'm feelin' sweaty
Eyelids gettin' heavy, stomach feelin' queasy
All of a sudden, now I'm sleepy
Woke up naked, slowly regainin' my memory
Well, where did they find you? Around the corner from Applebee

Over there by Costco, right there off the freeway
Admiral Callahan Lane, yeah, right next door to Safeway
Stripped me clean, got me for some G's
Set me up, stole my car keys
Guess that's the consequences when you sellin' that D
Shit, next time I bet I take my drink to the bathroom with me

Regulation number 9
Check in those that get out of line
Regulation number 10
Don't sell yo' soul if you hit the pen
Regulation number 11
Keep yo' hooptie hot and revvin
Regulation number 12
Keep enough to pay your lawyer mail
(The rules and regulations)

These are the things you need to know
(The rules and regulations)
These are the things you need to know
(The rules and regulations)

These are the things you need to know
(The rules and regulations)
These are the things you need to know
(The rules and regulations)

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2e99a95f7acb7de204d2c47005821e65

Life Is Too $Hort - Lyrics - Too $Hort

Title: Life Is Too $Hort
Artist: Too $Hort
Composer(s): Roger Ball, Malcolm Duncan, Stephen Ferrone, Alan Gorrie, Owen Mcintyre, Todd Shaw, Hamish Stuart

Lyric:
I remember how it all began
I used to sing dirty raps to my East side fans
Back then I knew you couldn't stop this rap
No M.C. could rock like that

Then the new style came, the bass got deeper
You gave up the mike and bought you a beeper
Do you wanna rap or sell Coke?
Brothers like you ain't never been broke

People wanna say it's just my time
Brothers like me had to work for mine
Eight years on the mike and I'm not jokin'
Sir Too Short comin' straight from Oakland

California, home of the rock
Eight woofers in the trunk, beatin' down the block
Short Dog, I'm that rappin' man
I said it before and I 'll say it again

Life is too short, too short
Life is too short, too short

Life is to some people is unbearable
Committin' suicide and that's terrible
Was it much too much or nothing' big?
If you live my life, you'd be fightin' to live

Life is to me my main asset
I be doin' all right and keep it just like that
Chill out at the house and pump that bass
I'm tryin' to get rich as I rock the place

Everybody's got that same old dream
To have big money and fancy things
Drive a brand new Benz, keep your bank right here
Never hear me stutter once 'cause I talk real clear

It's on you, homeboy, watcha gonna do?
You can take my advice and start workin', fool
Or you can close your ears and run your mouth
And one day, homeboy, you soon find out

Life is too short, too short
Life is too short, too short

Life is too short, would you agree?
While I'm livin' my life, don't mess with me
It's been a long time, baby, since I first got down
But I still keep makin' these funky sounds

'Cause I don't stop rappin', that's my theme
I make a lot of money, do you know what I mean?
Like this, complicated you must stay up
You asked a simple question boy, don't say, "What?"

You only live once and you callin' it hell
Policeman tryin' to take you to jail
You could give a man time but you don't know
In a matter of time, I'll be runnin' the show

Now another young buck wants to be on top
Makin' big money, slangin' hop
The task force tryin' to peel your cap
Turn around, homeboy, you better watch your back

Life is too short
Life is

You can take back all the things you give
But you can't take back the days you live
Life is to some people who've been on earth
Livin' every single day for what it's worth

I live my life just how I please
Satisfy one person I know, that's me
Work hard for the things I achieve in life
And never rap fake when I'm on the mike

'Cause if a dream is all you got, homeboy
You gotta turn that dream into the real McCoy
No time to waste, just get on that case
You can't be down 'cause you need to taste

A good life livin' like a king on a throne
Gettin' everything you want and tryin' to have all your own
So life, don't be stupid though
'Cause when you waste it, you'll know

Life is, life is
All right, that's it

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a10ac08f59d2a151a42e1f15f58d9f6c

Keep Bouncin' (Street) - Lyrics - Blow The Whistle - Too $Hort

Title: Keep Bouncin' (Street)
Album: Blow The Whistle
Artist: Too $Hort
Composer(s): A. Adams, Calvin Broadas, K. Fareed, R. James, A Shaheed Jones-Muhammad, Todd Shaw, M. Taylor, Ricardo Thomas

Lyric:
Keep, keep, keep, keep, keep bouncin'
Keep, keep bouncin'
Keep, keep, keep, keep, keep bouncin'
Keep, keep, keep, keep, keep bouncin'

My nigga, Short Dawg in the house
My nigga, Will.I.Am in the house
Snoop Dogg's in the house
West coast, make 'em bounce

I'ma bounce wit'cha though, yo
We gon' bounce everywhere we go
Make a nigga wanna bounce
Make a nigga burn a ounce

Get loose, get 'round, now get set
Yeah, it's the anthem, nigga, it's the shit
You can get crunk, get hyphy, get fit
You can bounce like you're hoppin' over a muh'fuckin' fence

If you in the whip, ghost ride the bitch
Slip into the liquor sto', sippin' on a fifth
Yeah, nigga, bring in the bag
Gangbang on you motherfuckers claimin' the flag

West Coast, nigga, I'm a real go-getter
40 ounce sipper, the blackjack tripper
20 Cripper, 10 to 1, I flip her
Got the hook-up on the birds an' the motherfuckin' zippers

Go to the club with my thugs, sell drugs
An' I might get a girl but I ain't gon' tip her
Get malt liquor, spit, mo' slicker
Put y'all hands in the air, muh'fucker, it's a stick up

Naw, nigga, eat a dick up
You say you a pimp but you in love with a stripper
Just bounce to the beat an' don't pay me no attention
Just bounce to the beat, bounce, bounce to the beat

It, it makes me want to bounce to the beat
It makes me want to bounce to the beat
It makes me want to bounce, bounce, bounce to the beat
I'm all up in the club
E'rybody in this muh'fucker wanna mean mug

Make a nigga wanna bounce, bounce
Make a nigga burn an ounce, bounce
Doggy Dogg, turn it out, bounce
My nigga, Short Dawg in the house

Yeah, make a nigga wanna bounce, bounce
Make a nigga burn an ounce, bounce
Doggy Dogg turn it out, bounce
Nigga, Short Dawg in the house

I told the DJ, play her song
Watch her choose up, put a player on
Put her in the wifey zone
She could be my girlfriend all night long

Keep bouncin', the floor is sweatin'
I'm all on her booty, I know I'm gettin' it
We from the West Coast, we live fun lives
Freak these hoes 'til the sunrise

What time is it? Late night
Send her back home when it's daylight
Her nigga at the house with a cake like
Captain Save-a-Hoe but she ain't right

She like to play hard to get
She don't wanna dance, she wants some hard dick
Well, give her what she wants
Stick it in the hoe an' watch her go dumb

Make a bitch wanna bounce, bounce
Short Dawg, turn 'em out, bounce
Bitch, don't you wanna bounce? Bounce
My nigga, Snoop Dogg in the house

Make a bitch wanna bounce, bounce
Short Dawg, turn 'em out, bounce
Bitch, don't you wanna bounce? Bounce
My nigga, Will.I.Am in the house

I'm in the house an' I ain't movin' out
The girls keep more of my name in they mouth
I like breasts best when they poppin' out
So girl, bring 'em out, bring 'em out, I make 'em bounce

Keep, keep bouncin', yeah, just keep them bouncin'
Open up your mind an' accept what I'm announcin'
If we have a President's Day an' a Veteran's Day
Let's have a Titty Holiday

An' lick on nipple everyday through the weekend
I like tit like fish like sippin'
Watchin' boobies bounce is my favorite tradition
When I'm up in the club just sittin' an' wishin'

Them boobies was bouncin' on my head, my head
Them boobies was bouncin' on my head, my head
Bouncin', bouncin' on my head, my head
I want them boobies bouncin' on my head, my head

Okay, now let me change the subject
I usually don't be gettin' mannish up in public
But that's aight 'cause I'm chillin' with my folks
From the West Coast, Short Dawg's in the house

Snoop Dogg's in the house, in the house
The nigga, Too Short's in the house, in the house
Will.I.Am's in the house, in the house
West Coast make 'em bounce

It, it makes me want to bounce to the beat
It makes me want to bounce to the beat
It makes me want to bounce to the beat
It makes me want to

It, it makes me want to bounce to the beat
It makes me want to bounce
It makes me want to bounce
We gon' bounce everywhere we go
Keep, keep bouncin'

Bounce, bounce, bounce to the beat
Keep bouncin', bounce, bounce, bounce to the beat
Keep bouncin', bounce, bounce, bounce to the beat
Keep bouncin', keep, keep bouncin'

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2ffdb881a592eb5b22641f6f58876212

Warrior Part 2 - Lyrics - Lloyd Banks

Title: Warrior Part 2
Artist: Lloyd Banks
Composer(s): Nathaniel D. Hale, Marshall Mathers, Curtis James Jackson, Christopher Charle Lloyd, S. King, Luis Edgardo Resto

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

Lyric:
Remix
Lloyd Banks

It's like a throne that he don't even own
He won't sit down, given the crown he just throws it around
It's like a joke he's like a king but he don't rule a thing
He don't want the diamonds, want the gold or want the jewelry

He don't want the fame, don't want the lute he's in it for a sport
Runnin' suckaz where there's competition 'round the court
He appreciates your support but he ain't beggin' for it
And you can't love it, you can hate it but you can't ignore it

You can't be that ignorant but you can try to sell him short
But you can't fuck with his last joint or the one before it
And he was gonna raise hell like them country boys
And if I'm frontin' then you better come confront me for it

This is the story of a warrior I know you know it
True warriors go ahead and make some noise
It ain't healthy to be makin' niggaz paranoid
Hit your corner wit' more weapon, I don't need my boyz

I'm doin' 120 in the fast lane
Kick back, just relax, let me do my thang
Don't give a fuck about you suckas gotta maintain
Money, power and respect in this rap game

He's straight outta the neighborhood but niggaz hate
They see you go and eat your dinner off a bigger plate
Your stomachs ache while he's loungin' at the big estate
And he hops in a hundred thousand with a nigga's gate

House with just a bigger gate, houndin' him was a big mistake
He wont surrender, he'll rather give up a rib to break
'Cuz he remembers when they wouldn't lend a helpin' hand
So he was sittin' on green like a Celtic fan

Created a buzz so when you gotta mention his name
When you discussin' the illest playa that's in the game
And he's ridin' with Em, 50 cent, Doc and them
G Unit records ain't no motherfuckin' stoppin' them

This is the story of a warrior I know you know it
True warriors go ahead and make some noise
It ain't healthy to be makin' niggaz paranoid
Hit your corner wit' more weapon, I don't need my boyz

I'm doin' 120 in the fast lane
Kick back, just relax, let me do my thang
Don't give a fuck about you suckas gotta maintain
Money, power and respect in this rap game

He's no magician, man, the kid makes somethin' outta nuthin'
So now niggaz from this hood act like we owe 'em somethin'
They talk crazy till we send niggas through there to buck 'em
Ask 'em if there's a problem and they'll say, "Naw its nothin'"

He was gonna help 'em out, but since they fronted, fuck 'em
He dont care how they feel, they can hate him or love him
He hold it down on his own the kid is really thuggin'
He's rich now, he ain't change so niggaz think he buggin'

He bullet proof everything in case niggaz try and buff him
Keep two pistols on this hip I show you where he tuck 'em
Niggaz say they gon' get at him but they can't touch him
Try to catch 'em slippin', they creepin' and he start bustin'

This is the story of a warrior I know you know it
True warriors go ahead and make some noise
It ain't healthy to be makin' niggaz paranoid
Hit your corner wit' more weapon, I don't need my boyz

I'm doin' 120 in the fast lane
Kick back, just relax, let me do my thang
Don't give a fuck about you suckas gotta maintain
Money, power and respect in this rap game

I can give you niggaz' somethin' you can talk about
I can turn your smile upside down
You ain't no G-Unit fuckin' clown
I can take your girl until I turn her out

Don't hold it in, let it all out
I can give you fuckers somethin' to be mad about
Invite her in send her back out
With my DNA all in her mouth

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1928156af8b87c158da09685c2c35fc2

Here We Go (J.D. Remix) - Lyrics - Can't Stay Away - Too $Hort

Title: Here We Go (J.D. Remix)
Album: Can't Stay Away
Artist: Too $Hort
Composer(s): Diamond D Todd Shaw, Donald Byrd, Shawn Carter, Harry Wayne Casey, Richard Raymond Finch, Joseph Kirkland

Lyric:
We talk shit 'cause we are the shit
Never looked back since we started it
When y'all want heat, we provide it, ride it
'Til the wheels fall of, shaking 'em all off

Six figure niggas with it, over did it, spit it
In ways that'll cause a rush
Keeping your face in a state of disgust
Hating but still trying to be like us

Twist the lime on the corona, grab my crime diploma
Then head to the block, to pull up five in the mona
Shit, I need to chrome up, become a home owner
Look, life's a bitch but I'm on her

I almost cracked this, no more hustling backwards
Up the ave I zip, nigga trying to have shit
I'm your average, ghetto nigga turned maverick
You'd never, said to a nigga, "Whatever for the cash, I'm with"

I don't have step, I leave it in you're averix
Then shoot it it the air, whatever I have left
Outlaw, simply, I out draw y'all
Whether clubs or the street, I out ball y'all

Niggas ain't ready, I doubt all y'all
Fly ass niggas, I reroute all y'all
If it ain't for the paper, I don't show my face up
Make a bet, I turn the ace up, Short and Jay, what?

I never stop making money, don't give 'em no slack
Drinking dirty motherfuckers 'til a hoe come back
With my scratch, bitch, I was born to mack
To uphold the pimping, I was sworn to that

I hear a lot of shit talking when I listen to rap
Only a few MC's get to hang that plaque
On the wall rappers ball but they don't live phat
Nigga, I doubt if you go gold or platinum

What we do has only been mastered by a few
I take a half a million tapes, sell 'em straight to you
All that shit niggas talking, just cant be real
I don't need a record deal, I need eighteen wheels

I roll right up in the hood, I got tapes for sale
Bitches running in their house, they can't wait to tell
Somebody, she got a new Too Short tape
And he's spitting pimp game with his homeboy, Jay

We talk shit 'cause we are the shit
Never looked back since we started it
When y'all want heat, we provide it, ride it
'Til the wheels fall of, shaking 'em all off

Six figure niggas with it, over did it, spit it
In ways that'll cause a rush
Keeping your face in a state of disgust
Hating but still trying to be like us

Now, here they come again, the gold diggas trying to get paid
Wanna trick the rich old niggas, trying to get laid
She'll suck his dick as soon as she meet him
Don't have to sell a body for me I don't need her

To turn tricks for me, how much you cost, bitch?
I'm all about large bank deposits
On and off the mic, I always set trends
Either you see me with hoes or I'm rolling with pimps

Brook land to Oakland, I keep smokin'
Jay-Z and short dog at these hoes again
The kinda niggas that'll take a square bitch around the corner
Put this pimp game on her

I don't fuck with broke hoes and I don't trick
But I'll still rub my big ass dick on her clit
Get her hooked, wanna be mine, I need some money
If she ain't kicking in all the time she don't want me

Hoes, flows, money, cars
Y'all wannabe stars, can't fuck with none of these bars
This is real nigga rap, we can spit it through the mic
And you can feel niggas scratch, and sell a mil if that

So real, when we drop this shit, it's in trouble
When I guess the pair, you gotta ship it double
I'm the independent phenom, y'all miniature dons
Wannabe jigga, pops styles and Hennessey richa'

When I die, leave my canopy richa'
I put it down hard ever since I entered the pit'cha
Can fuck with me for records to the recreational cent'a
I got it wrapped, y'all, from the Grammy's to the back park

Short dog, y'all, what you thought, y'all? Oakland, B K, New york y'all
Be the voice for the streets we supply for years
And go platinum on our most quiet years

We talk shit 'cause we are the shit
Never looked back since we started it
When y'all want heat, we provide it, ride it
'Til the wheels fall of, shaking 'em all off

Six figure niggas with it, over did it, spit it
In ways that'll cause a rush
Keeping your face in a state of disgust
Hating but still trying to be like us

We talk shit 'cause we are the shit
Never looked back since we started it
When y'all want heat, we provide it, ride it
'Til the wheels fall of, shaking 'em all off

Six figure niggas with it, over did it, spit it
In ways that'll cause a rush
Keeping your face in a state of disgust
Hating but still trying to be like us

We talk shit 'cause we are the shit
Never looked back since we started it
When y'all want heat, we provide it, ride it
'Til the wheels fall of, shaking 'em all off

Six figure niggas with it, over did it, spit it
In ways that'll cause a rush
Keeping your face in a state of disgust
Hating but still trying to be like us

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aed3dbe04dfbcccf6ca22c8eada92990

Here We Go (Lil' Jon Remix) - Lyrics - Can't Stay Away - Too $Hort

Title: Here We Go (Lil' Jon Remix)
Album: Can't Stay Away
Artist: Too $Hort
Composer(s): Diamond D Todd Shaw, Donald Byrd, Shawn Carter, Harry Wayne Casey, Richard Raymond Finch, Joseph Kirkland

Lyric:
We talk shit 'cause we are the shit
Never looked back since we started it
When y'all want heat, we provide it, ride it
'Til the wheels fall of, shaking 'em all off

Six figure niggas with it, over did it, spit it
In ways that'll cause a rush
Keeping your face in a state of disgust
Hating but still trying to be like us

Twist the lime on the corona, grab my crime diploma
Then head to the block, to pull up five in the mona
Shit, I need to chrome up, become a home owner
Look, life's a bitch but I'm on her

I almost cracked this, no more hustling backwards
Up the ave I zip, nigga trying to have shit
I'm your average, ghetto nigga turned maverick
You'd never, said to a nigga, "Whatever for the cash, I'm with"

I don't have step, I leave it in you're averix
Then shoot it it the air, whatever I have left
Outlaw, simply, I out draw y'all
Whether clubs or the street, I out ball y'all

Niggas ain't ready, I doubt all y'all
Fly ass niggas, I reroute all y'all
If it ain't for the paper, I don't show my face up
Make a bet, I turn the ace up, Short and Jay, what?

I never stop making money, don't give 'em no slack
Drinking dirty motherfuckers 'til a hoe come back
With my scratch, bitch, I was born to mack
To uphold the pimping, I was sworn to that

I hear a lot of shit talking when I listen to rap
Only a few MC's get to hang that plaque
On the wall rappers ball but they don't live phat
Nigga, I doubt if you go gold or platinum

What we do has only been mastered by a few
I take a half a million tapes, sell 'em straight to you
All that shit niggas talking, just cant be real
I don't need a record deal, I need eighteen wheels

I roll right up in the hood, I got tapes for sale
Bitches running in their house, they can't wait to tell
Somebody, she got a new Too Short tape
And he's spitting pimp game with his homeboy, Jay

We talk shit 'cause we are the shit
Never looked back since we started it
When y'all want heat, we provide it, ride it
'Til the wheels fall of, shaking 'em all off

Six figure niggas with it, over did it, spit it
In ways that'll cause a rush
Keeping your face in a state of disgust
Hating but still trying to be like us

Now, here they come again, the gold diggas trying to get paid
Wanna trick the rich old niggas, trying to get laid
She'll suck his dick as soon as she meet him
Don't have to sell a body for me I don't need her

To turn tricks for me, how much you cost, bitch?
I'm all about large bank deposits
On and off the mic, I always set trends
Either you see me with hoes or I'm rolling with pimps

Brook land to Oakland, I keep smokin'
Jay-Z and short dog at these hoes again
The kinda niggas that'll take a square bitch around the corner
Put this pimp game on her

I don't fuck with broke hoes and I don't trick
But I'll still rub my big ass dick on her clit
Get her hooked, wanna be mine, I need some money
If she ain't kicking in all the time she don't want me

Hoes, flows, money, cars
Y'all wannabe stars, can't fuck with none of these bars
This is real nigga rap, we can spit it through the mic
And you can feel niggas scratch, and sell a mil if that

So real, when we drop this shit, it's in trouble
When I guess the pair, you gotta ship it double
I'm the independent phenom, y'all miniature dons
Wannabe jigga, pops styles and Hennessey richa'

When I die, leave my canopy richa'
I put it down hard ever since I entered the pit'cha
Can fuck with me for records to the recreational cent'a
I got it wrapped, y'all, from the Grammy's to the back park

Short dog, y'all, what you thought, y'all? Oakland, B K, New york y'all
Be the voice for the streets we supply for years
And go platinum on our most quiet years

We talk shit 'cause we are the shit
Never looked back since we started it
When y'all want heat, we provide it, ride it
'Til the wheels fall of, shaking 'em all off

Six figure niggas with it, over did it, spit it
In ways that'll cause a rush
Keeping your face in a state of disgust
Hating but still trying to be like us

We talk shit 'cause we are the shit
Never looked back since we started it
When y'all want heat, we provide it, ride it
'Til the wheels fall of, shaking 'em all off

Six figure niggas with it, over did it, spit it
In ways that'll cause a rush
Keeping your face in a state of disgust
Hating but still trying to be like us

We talk shit 'cause we are the shit
Never looked back since we started it
When y'all want heat, we provide it, ride it
'Til the wheels fall of, shaking 'em all off

Six figure niggas with it, over did it, spit it
In ways that'll cause a rush
Keeping your face in a state of disgust
Hating but still trying to be like us

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a9b508836439988893747eddab1ce1e4

N-Noreaga - Y'All Don'T Wanna - Lyrics - The Reunion - Capone

Title: N-Noreaga - Y'All Don'T Wanna
Album: The Reunion
Artist: Capone
Composer(s): Tamir Ruffin, Victor Santiago, Kenya Miller, Kiam Holley

Lyric:
Yeah
Why they don't get a nigga like me
To sing the national anthem or nuttin?
It's nothin

Nokio
(Flame, Nokio)
Nokio give us a beat baby, some gangsta shit, yo
CNN, the best group that ever lived

Best blowin' fuckin' group that ever lived in rap
Hundred percent real stories, we speak truth
Yo, tell 'em how your life is son
How your life is yo?

My life is nuttin' like a sitcom, you see I sip Dom
I rock Jordan's, and can't stand Pippen's
Bases loaded, coach want me to bunt
But I'ma go for the homer and cock the pump

I was the kid in the hood your moms ain't want you with
Now I'm rich, tell your moms one-two click
Since a young one, I love heaven and love hell
Escobar style, I'll build my own jail

The America's, 'merica's, favorite thug
To sell cocaine, America's, favorite drugs
Me and 'Pone like the military, we train niggaz
And the hoes don't fuck, they just brain niggaz

CNN, focus on us, we coconuts
We throw our gang signs up, [unverified] wit us
Set up a congregation, so I can orally speak
I orally, have sex 'cause my aura [unverified] is deep, it go

Y'all don't wanna fuck with us
CNN out for them pesos
Y'all don't wanna bust with us
Niggaz better move when we say so

What's this I hear? CNN ain't real?
What's this I hear? CNN is wack?
What's this I hear? CNN won't kill?
Now what's this I hear? CNN ain't back?

Yo, I give you every part of my life, to my paralyzed [unverified]
to the foul death of my moms, the slug and the length of my arm
I'm, "The Answer" like Allen I
Who runs sick like cancer on the Island, I

I'm the first that ever loc'ed on a Nok' track
CNN back, like number 5 Jordan's purple and black
We spazzed on purpose, fuck tryin' to sit in a cat'
I erase drama and talk, memories in my rap

It's kinda hard to rap on radio while I sit in the box
All I could think was money, send a few flicks to my pops
I give the street life my all, stripes and scars
Nights was hard, felt I had a right to rob

Now I spit righteous bars, fuck livin' like the stars
Give me a hood crib and a Chrysler Dodge
Cause I'm just like y'all, my kicks scuff like y'all
I still get harassed and searched up like y'all

Y'all don't wanna fuck with us
CNN out for them pesos
Y'all don't wanna bust with us
Niggaz better move when we say so

What's this I hear? CNN ain't real?
What's this I hear? CNN is wack?
What's this I hear? CNN won't kill?
Now what's this I hear? CNN ain't back?

Yo, imagine us cowards
You still live with mommy, still get allowance
I chase Henny, bubblin' ounces
I returned off a short stretch, stuck in the mountains

What's this I hear huh? This is my year
'Pone shit kosher, you think not? I give you my ear
Now listen closer I was born and I'ma die here
Listen soldier, I rap and keep one in the holster
Nigga you front, and I'ma pop one in your shoulder

Yo, raise the partition, cock guns with ammunition
Knock you out position and have your little hoe missin
Niggaz get locked up, I spread my love
Yo they leave god body but they come home blood

Balloon bags full of weed, yo I send you those
And it's all about my niggaz, won't mention hoes
Keep it tight on all four corners, warrant search
Po' po' and co's they all get merked, it go

Y'all don't wanna fuck with us
CNN out for them pesos
Y'all don't wanna bust with us
Niggaz better move when we say so

What's this I hear? CNN ain't real?
What's this I hear? CNN is wack?
What's this I hear? CNN won't kill?
Now what's this I hear? CNN ain't back?

Y'all don't wanna fuck with us
CNN out for them pesos
Y'all don't wanna bust with us
Niggaz better move when we say so

What's this I hear? CNN ain't real?
What's this I hear? CNN is wack?
What's this I hear? CNN won't kill?
Now what's this I hear? CNN ain't back?

Yeah, it's like this
Collaboration, CNN, gangsta shit
With my nigga, Nokio on the beats
On the boards, fuckin shit up y'all, yeah

He on the boards, fuckin' shit up y'all
Huh, a hit record, got a hit record, written all over the track
Aiyyo, it got a hit record all over the track
Yeah hit record, written all over the track

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