Fake Frowns - Lyrics - Something About Airplanes - Death Cab For Cutie

Title: Fake Frowns
Album: Something About Airplanes
Artist: Death Cab For Cutie
Composer(s): Benjamin Gibbard, Christopher Walla

Lyric:
Bent at the knees, a last resort
Backfired and made things worse
Once on the bus, it was quite possible
You'd be the jail house queen

Jury and judge were screaming to hang
You spat the sweat from brow
He shrugged his shoulders, nothing would work
It had to end right now

I can't drive straight
Counting your fake frowns

Focusing in, details a must
Trying to make each one count
All on your fingers stopping at ten
Magistrate keyed in now

Jury and judge were screaming to hang
You spat the sweat from brow
He shrugged his shoulders, nothing would work
It had to end right now

I can't drive straight
Counting your fake frowns
I can't drive straight
Counting your fake frowns

We can't keep your interest now
In increasing pixels and sound
We can't keep your interest now
Increasing pixels and sound

Jury and judge were screaming to hang
You spat the sweat from brow
He shrugged his shoulders, nothing would work
It had to end right

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Be Easy - Lyrics - Fishscale - Ghostface Killah

Title: Be Easy
Album: Fishscale
Artist: Ghostface Killah
Composer(s): Iii, Leon F. Sylvers, Dennis Coles, Peter N. Phillips

Lyric:
Yeah, what's happpening New York City?
It's ya boy Ghost in the muthafuckin' house tonight
NahwhatImean? We about to get it popping, let's go!
Yo yo

Tell your crew to be easy, niggaz run around
With them fake frowns, sell 'em on eBay
Get word to the DJ, tell 'em Staten Island's
In the house, put the record on replay

Get your nose blowned off by the fifth, uh
You wanna be there, layin' all stiff, uh
Every time you go uptown, you get jipped, uh
That's karma, boy, running your lip, uh

You be fronting like you got a bunch of chicks, uh
You be at home, nigga, beating your dick, uh
I'm in the club with the chipped up wrist, uh
You at the bar, whoadie, drinkin' my piss, uh

The yellow shit, and the bottle ain't Crys', son
You turned your muthafuckin' head, nigga, we switched 'em
You just mad cause I'm hittin' your sister
You in the other room, huh, you couldn't sleep, uh

Pop a lotta shit without that liquor, yup
We mind seat up, so take our picture
I'm like the boogeyman, nigga, I'll get ya
Whether now or later, afterlife, or switcher

Yeah, oh shit, aiyo Tone hurry up and get 'em, nigga
You knowhatImean, it's about to pop off
Ya'll niggaz clear the fucking floor
Get the fuck out the way, come on

Tell your crew to be easy, niggaz run around
With them fake frowns, sell 'em on eBay
Get word to the DJ, tell 'em Staten Island's
In the house, put the record on replay

Yo, it's Tone in the building, the teams in the building
Niggaz wanna beef, what up, what up, what up
We packed to the ceiling we constantly chilling
We can 'cause we could, we shoot, we slice, we cut

Shimmy shimmy ya, shimmy yam, shimmy yeah, now
Yes, my birthday, landed in nay, now
Peace to Dirt Dog, I'm back like Deja Vu
Leave your girl around me, I will bag your boo

Ahh, you bitch niggaz better listen up
Anybody front, paramedics gonna pick 'em up
They try to save you, sware to God, I hit the nurse up
Like, "Nah, doc, he look better in a hearse truck"

I tried to ignore it, his people saw it
I ain't the type of dude you go to war with
My polo gun yo, will crack the floor shit
When the heat's on, you know I draw it
I had his number down, Toney just called it

Yo, aiyo, Pete Rock, good looking nigga!
Staten Island, yo Theodore! What's the deal
Slap me one of the ratchets, I'm about to go in, yo

Tell your crew to be easy, niggaz run around
With them fake frowns, sell 'em on eBay
Get word to the DJ, tell 'em Staten Island's
In the house, put the record on replay

Gotta get that cheese, gotta pimp that V
Gotta burn those leaves, and uh
Pretty Tone make the girls say please
Daddy work that D, put it in and be eas' and uh

So what, come on, now some of y'all people
Might know me from my wallabies
Pretty bitches got my number, y'all can dial me
I stick it up like an iced cake robbery

And when I'm done, y'all can finger nail file me
Floss the ill robes since Criminology
Supreme Clientele, put the world on top of me
Yo babe, hurry up, with those collard greens
I represent S.I., ain't as wild as me

They lousy, I'm phat like a pound of cheeba weed brownies
Tone got the powder squeeze, don't surround me
Quick to pick a honey up, shit, the flow's Bounty
Ya'll can just crown me

Yeah, that's right
I like to thank y'all for coming out tonight
How y'all like that shit? YouknowhatImean?
You really run New York
This is that Theodore shit, muthafucker

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Area - Lyrics - Buhloone Mindstate - De La Soul

Title: Area
Album: Buhloone Mindstate
Artist: De La Soul
Composer(s): Kelvin Mercer, David Jolicoeur, Vincent Mason, Paul Huston

Lyric:
I can just remember the number
I just, the number


For me to patrol
Just another area
That shows I got soul
Just another area
For me to patrol
Just another area
That shows I got soul

I got soul, you see, I'm swimming in the De La
I'm in my hood man, my manhood worries ya
I'm known for sampling of soul food
Off the old school plates
When I met up with my niggas from the 718
One the Jungle Bro, the other Questers from Queens
Yet I had the matrix of the 516 in my jeans
So I sided with my funk to bring my second on call

For me and the Sheep, our mission's on the beach of 804
(You're runnin' on an empty tank)
But still get paid in full
(And get the girls)
Man, I'm packing gravitational pull
Bring the instamatic avalanche, my code intervenes
I'm out to scout the areas that remains to be seen
(What?)

Well, many, many digits had me seeking in my Wizard
Man, who's ringing up my area
(Oh)
Oh, I used to shoe it to the bridge but that's gone
Like the 718's out of Vietnam
Sniffin' skypagers had me drugged
(Man, I knew a psycho)
703's on my love bug
I made mates with the brothers up in 215
Crazy buddhas in my mind
My Chattanooga champs had me late for the camp
And my 202 keeps me marvellous
I guess Mars was my hideaway
But if the stars for a getaway

Since I'm capable I conjure up a walk in this way
I slip a syllable for Aspen and a Chester souffle
I be the 919 seeker, 'cuz ain't off logic
So when I'm with my crew I always have a place to sit
Due to this a brother tries to play
(Yeah, like one in 514)
Yo, some kid tried to flip on
They instigated a brawl
(So we set our knuckles on stun and made them all fall)

Then I just laughed
(Ha ha ha ha ha ha)
(We whooped that ass)
And put the feelings aside, I know who I am
I cast the grain by the pound
I make sounds with the horn
When I colour the corn, caught the fit
And sit the two when honey slung the tip

Well, I'm taking my finds to the 301's
While I'm playing my flute in the rear kibbut
My man from the 908's, he don't like it like that
So I pipes till the sunshine hikes
A kettle of the master plan makes a Malibu idol
(God forgive me)
Well, it's a hook
The third to the 0 to the 5 had to feel the vibe
When the 516 played convicts

The man Maseo is here to put the habit along
And what you have, I'm 'bout to speak about your area code
Is it 908?
(No)
Is it 212?
(Hell, no)
Speakin' on 404?
(No)
What about 516?
(I dunno)

And what is it?
(Not tellin' ya)
And what is it?
(Not tellin' ya)
And what is it?
(Not tellin' ya)
And what is it?
(Not tellin' ya)
(Huh? What?)

Just another area for me to patrol
I got status 'cuz I'm baddest with the paint
Giving upside down frowns to London wood 703
Her moms didn't like it, I had to let be
For the fact I lays bricks
'Cuz my semen ends with the letter T
My seed is hard to submerge
I play the tack in the wall if my rear's not watched
'Cuz some knuckle might just head for the urge

But I got Prince Paul in the Area
(Oh, it's like that now)
I got Hot Dog in the Area
(Heh heh heh)
I got the Violators in the area
(Aaah)
I's got the Violators in the area
(Aaah)
It don't matter where you hide, I clear up the fall
Cop the fuck outta here, you fake-ass fraud
Clear my area

I'm going home now, I have been up all night
I been up all night, it's still Friday to me
Come on now, hey, Ellory, I'm going home
Bob to the Bob, D-dang, D-dang diggy-diggy

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Lifestyles Of The Rich And Infamous - Lyrics - O.G. Original Gangster - Ice T

Title: Lifestyles Of The Rich And Infamous
Album: O.G. Original Gangster
Artist: Ice T
Composer(s): Tracy (Ice-T) Marrow

Lyric:
{Yo yo Ice whats poppin' G
I'm just coolin' out Shinning Mac, I was listening to your demo tapes
Yo man you sound kinda hyped man, yo' gonna blow up this ear boy
Yeah you know I wanna come out, I wanna go out on tour with you man
Yo hons man tourin' ain't what it's all cranked up to be man
It's a little different than you think man
Yo so what is it really like baby}

It's eight a.m. I roll out my silk sheets
Get fly crash the Limo back seats
Lookin' in the faces of some ladies that I never met
On the interview tip, no sweat

They ask me questions, I throw the words back
They say they write facts, I know that's bull crap
They're kickin' drama, but then drama's my middle name
That's the price ya pay for big fame

The cellular phone rings dont' wanna pick it up
But it's my J O B, I gotta kick it up
Another damn reporter on the line with a word quiz
I gotta show 'cause I'm livin' in the showbiz

Outta the Limo, to the plane in the pourin' rain
I hate flyin' but there's no time for slow trains
Another show to do, I gotta catch my crew
They left last night in the bus around two

The plane's a small one, no fun at all
Bouncin' round the air like a tennis ball
When it touches down I wanna kiss the ground
But it's time to wreck a new town

Get to the arena, meet up with the crew
They tell me all the speakers blew
The cordless don't work, sound man's a jerk
Somebody's gonna get hurt

I'm crazy mad but my fans want autographs
I turn my angry frowns into fake laughs
I can't be rude 'cause they wouldn't understand
I ain't human no more, I'm a Superman

You can try but you'll never understand this
You can try but you'll never understand this
Try an' try but you'll never understand this
The lifestyles of the rich and infamous

Alright you got five minutes in store dude
Then after that you got a photo session right on yo
Grab masses, spin, I don't know
There's a fucking bunch of people that want to see you

Four hours till show time, oh well
I might as well check in the hotel
Get a little rest before it's time to play
Ten brothers standin' in the hallway

All with demo tapes, they need the hook up
They heard that I was the one to look up
I can't ditch 'em 'cause they already saw me
I'll put my head down, maybe they'll ignore me

No chance "Ice what's goin' on?"
I listened to twenty-five songs
And after that the brothers still wouldn't leave
They started lookin' at my T.V

I was gonna break down if they didn't jet soon
Snuck across the hall and crashed in E's room
But then this freak came in thought I was E
Straddled her legs across me

Ripped off her blouse pushed her breast against my face
Started gyratin' her waist
Sounds fly like a hype sex thriller?
But see she looked like Godzilla

Pushed her off me, home girl hit the floor
This is what it's like on tour
I hit the hallway, it was crawlin' thick
"Could we take this picture real quick?"

Jumped into a pose that I used a million times before
Took pictures with the whole damn floor
I couldn't say no not to my fans
You see they wouldn't understand

You can try but you'll never understand this
Try an' try but you'll never understand this
You can try but you'll never understand this
The lifestyles of the rich and infamous

Alright will somebody gets these hoes off the bus
Get the god damn girls off the bus
No more backstage passes, whose [incomprehensible] is this
Get everybody out of the room, the hotels gonna throw us out
Where is Ice T, he's got the socks and more pigeons up here
Evilyn lost the fuckin' records

Now it's show time, time to flow time
Evil lost the records but we still gotta go time
The house is packed, everybody's on their feet
So I say, "Throw on Rakim's beat"

I'm catchin' problems from every angle
The mic cords are tangled
I try to flow smooth but my words are mangled
Damn near slipped and broke my ankle

If that ain't enough, the police are hawkin'
Listenin' real close to the words I'm talkin'
They wanna put a brother like me in the back seat
Just because I curse the beat

E hits the fader and the crowd is lit
I start bustin' off some new shit
The stage is so smokey that I almost fall off
I start inhalin' it, I'm tryin' not to cough

They wanna tap my phone wanna keep my crib bugged
Call all my homes, felonist, street thugs
You might say I think this lifestyle sucks?
I wouldn't trade it for a million bucks
Although it's all not glamor and gleam
It's still my dream

You can try but you'll never understand this
The lifestyles of the rich and infamous
Yo, this is dedicated to all my fans
To support Ice T and the Rhymes syndicate
Peace I love ya
The lifestyles of the rich and infamous

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