Gin And Juice - Lyrics - Gourds

Title: Gin And Juice
Artist: Gourds
Composer(s): Mark Adams, Steve Arrington, Cordozar Broadus, Harry Casey, Richard Finch, Raymond Turner, Steve Washington, Daniel Webster, Andre Young

Lyric:
With so much drama in the L.B.C.
It's kinda hard bein' Snoop D-O-double-G
But I, somehow, some way
Keep comin' up with funky ass shit like every single day

May I kick a little something for the G's?
And, make a few ends as I breeze through
Two in the mornin' and the party's still jumpin'
'Cause my momma ain't home

I got bitches in the living room gettin' it on
And, they ain't leavin' 'til six in the mornin'
So what you wanna do? Shit, I got a pocket
Full of rubbers and my homeboys do too

So turn off the lights and close the doors
But, but what? We don't love them ho's, yeah
So we gonna smoke a ounce to this
G's up, hoes down, while you motherfuckers bounce to this

Rollin' down the street, smokin' endo
Sippin' on gin and juice, laid back
With my mind on my money
And my money on my mind

Rollin' down the street, smokin' endo
Sippin' on gin and juice, laid back
With my mind on my money
And my money on my mind

Now that I got me some Seagram's gin
Everybody got they cups, but they ain't chipped in
Now this type of shit happens all the time
You got to get yours but fool I gotta get mine

Everything is fine when you listenin' to the D-O-G
I got the cultivating music that be captivating he
Who listens, to the words that I speak
As I take me a drink to the middle of the street

And get to mackin' to this bitch named Sadie
She used to be the homeboys lady
(Oh, that bitch?)
Eighty degrees, when I tell that bitch please
Raise up off these N-U-T's, 'cause you gets none of these

At ease, as I mob with the Dogg Pound, feel the breeze
Bitch, I'm just

Rollin' down the street, smokin' endo
Sippin' on gin and juice, laid back
With my mind on my money
And my money on my mind

Rollin' down the street, smokin' endo
Sippin' on gin and juice, laid back
With my mind on my money
And my money on my mind

Later on that day, my homey
Dr. Dre came through with a gang of Tanqueray
And a fat ass J of some bubonic chronic
That made me choke, shit, this ain't no joke

I had to back up off of it and sit my cup down
Tanqueray and chronic, yeah, I'm fucked up now
But it ain't no stoppin', I'm still poppin'
Dre got some bitches from the city of Compton

To serve me, not with a cherry on top
'Cause when I bust my nut, I'm raisin' up off the cot
Don't get upset girl, that's just how it goes
I don't love you ho's, I'm out the do' and I'll be

Rollin' down the street, smokin' endo
Sippin' on gin and juice, laid back
With my mind on my money
And my money on my mind

Rollin' down the street, smokin' endo
Sippin' on gin and juice, laid back
With my mind on my money
And my money on my mind

Rollin' down the street, smokin' endo
Sippin' on gin and juice, bitch
With my mind on my money
And my money on my mind

Rollin' down the street, smokin' endo
Sippin' on gin and juice, bitch
With my mind on my money
And my money on my mind

Play the MP3 online for free!

bae70282c10e280c222d9198c477be3f

My Block - Lyrics - LFO - Lfo

Title: My Block
Album: LFO
Artist: Lfo
Composer(s): George Brown, Meekaaeel Mohamed, Claydes Smith, Robert Bell, Ronald Bell, Terrance Quaites, Dennis Thomas, James Taylor, Earl Toon, Leon Haywood

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

Lyric:
Ooh yeah
And it sounds so good, it sounds so nice

(Come down to my block)
Come around my way
That's where the players play
(On my block)
Do what you wanna do
Fill up your cup with gin and juice
(Come down to my block)

We'll give you what you need
Where are all the guest's
(On my block)
I think, it's plain to see
It's definitely the place to be
(Come down to my block)

This sun is beaming another Saturday
It's time to kick it and blow my cares away
Nobody trippin' just tryin' to have some fun
And if you need some, got drinks for everyone

This is your chance tonight
Everything's goin' to be alright
It's our big superstore
It's time to drink some more

(Come down to my block)
Come around my way
That's where the players play
(On my block)
Do what you wanna do
Fill up your cup with gin and juice
(Come down to my block)

We'll give you what you need
Where are all the guest's
(On my block)
I think, it's plain to see
It's definitely the place to be
(Come down to my block)

Come take a ride with me in a big black truck
And all of you player haters, won't you get off my nuts?
I know a place, you can go and meet everybody, I know
It's got all things a player likes

Like sunshine and straight thighs
We can play everyday, it's summertime baby
(Summertime baby)
I wanna play, I wanna stay
In case you didn't know

(Come down to my block)
Come around my way
That's where the players play
(On my block)
Do what you wanna do
Fill up your cup with gin and juice
(Come down to my block)

We'll give you what you need
Where are all the guest's
(On my block)
I think, it's plain to see
It's definitely the place to be
(Come down to my block)

So bring some Coney Isle
We're gonna have a real good time
Hey, and you can't have none of mine

All you ladies bring your friends
Gotta pool, let's throw them in
Oh yeah, it's goin' down tonight

This is your chance tonight
Everything's goin' to be alright
It's our big superstore
It's time to drink some more

(Come down to my block)
Come around my way
That's where the players play
(On my block)
Do what you wanna do
Fill up your cup with gin and juice
(Come down to my block)

We'll give you what you need
Where are all the guest's
(On my block)
I think, it's plain to see
It's definitely the place to be
(Come down to my block)

(Come down to my block)
Come around my way
That's where the players play
(On my block)
Do what you wanna do
Fill up your cup with gin and juice
(Come down to my block)

We'll give you what you need
Where are all the guest's
(On my block)
I think, it's plain to see
It's definitely the place to be
(Come down to my block)

(Come down to my block)
Come around my way
That's where the players play
(On my block)
Do what you wanna do
Fill up your cup with gin and juice
(Come down to my block)

We'll give you what you need
Where are all the guest's
(On my block)
I think, it's plain to see
It's definitely the place to be
(Come down to my block)

Play the MP3 online for free!

53eec6f88e066024a3b2ea0164a0d44a

Porno Star - Lyrics - Joe Budden - Joe Budden

Title: Porno Star
Album: Joe Budden
Artist: Joe Budden
Composer(s): Joseph Kuleszynski, Joseph Budden

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

Lyric:
Whatchu think that all of the rumors for?

Mami dude you love dick, caress and rub dick
Love street niggaz, love a thug dick
But you don't look like you gettin' enough dick
But do you fuck in public and suck dick

Are you down with a dick, clown niggaz dicks
When they put it in do you, drown niggaz dicks
Profound a nigga dick, and when you go down
I hope you don't kiss all around a nigga dick

You gettin' lame dick, all the same dick
Clowns who can't fuck, new to the game dick
Scared of a freak with a hall of fame dick
So keep fuckin' your ex-man who can't quit

You need stronger dick, fuck seven inches
Get a longer dick, put it on the dick
A champion dick, a heavyweight dick
Have you 2 way a nigga every day dick

My Cris' and mo' bitches that ride it well
My strip show bitches hope you ride it well
We can fuck in the house or in the car
But tell me can you ride dick like a porno star

My gin and juice bitches that take it well
My in school bitches 'cause you takin' it well
We can fuck in the house or in the car
But tell me can you take dick like a porno star

A nigga need pussy, soft and sweet pussy
If your shit's tight, then I'll probably eat pussy
I'm a picky dude, don't need beat pussy
Strictly freak pussy, just to leak pussy

I need fine pussy, need dime pussy
Need rare pussy that hard to find pussy
Got a one shot, I need all the time pussy
Up echelon, top of the line pussy

Need tight pussy, get right pussy
No sleep, break day, all night pussy
Fuck whack pussy, I'm lookin' for that pussy
Bitch you cheated on me but I'm right back pussy

Pop lock pussy, stop drop pussy
Let me lay up when the block hot pussy
Never before pussy, straight raw pussy
Fucked ten times but I want more pussy

My Cris' and Mo' bitches that ride it well
My strip show bitches hope you ride it well
We can fuck in the house or in the car
But tell me can you ride dick like a porno star

My gin and juice bitches that take it well
My in school bitches 'cause you takin' it well
We can fuck in the house or in the car
But tell me can you take dick like a porno star

Look I love sex, kind of rough sex
Whip cream, honey out, handcuff sex
Never without sex, all about sex
Hard backshots, pillow in her mouth sex

Deep stroke sex, deep throat sex
Run around here like you don't need no sex
All day sex, it's foreplay sex
Your back on the wall in the hallway sex

Make me wait sex, third date sex
Just finished arguin', havin' hate sex
Relaxed sex, missionary style
Nails in my back sex, now that's sex

No hands sex, advanced sex
Why you come to my crib wearin pants sex
Unlikely sex, try me sex
You gon' fuck around and be wifey sex

My Cris' and Mo' bitches that ride it well
My strip show bitches hope you ride it well
We can fuck in the house or in the car
But tell me can you ride dick like a porno star

My gin and juice bitches that take it well
My in school bitches 'cause you takin' it well
We can fuck in the house or in the car
But tell me can you take dick like a porno star

Play the MP3 online for free!

ef54667a69c7ade52ac0b56936c59543

Man - Fuckin' Wit Dank - Lyrics - Pooh

Title: Man - Fuckin' Wit Dank
Artist: Pooh
Composer(s): Anthony Banks, Lawrence Thomas

Lyric:
Hey yo, Pooh Man get your lyrics together
For this next song, man
Ant man, I gotta fire up this dank first
I ain't fuckin? with nothing till I hit the dank
Man, you stupid motherfucker

Hey kid man, bring me the lighter man, fuck that
Fuck what he talkin? about, I fresh to hit the dank
Shit, man fuck it, I ain't fuckin? with that shit

All my partners out there know what time it is
Fire up that dank, you know what I'm sayin??
Y'all be fucked, man
Man, that shit hella stanks, man

Man, y'all be stupid motherfuckers, man
Yah, it stanks but it's cool partna
Fuck that shit, hey, let?s do this Ant
Fuck, what you talkin? about, let?s do this
Alright fuck it, do it, hey, what am I doin??

Drop the top, hit the block
Beat slammin?, man, fuck the cops
The drops stayin?, sittin? on gold kicks
Pull to the side and get with a fresh bitch

A young tender, dressed in Guess
A fat booty and some big ass breasts
Her name is Tina, my name?s Pooh
Yeah, it's time to fuck, man, I thought you knew

Straight to the tail, dick hard as a rock
I'm fiendin? for her, I got have that cock
Mine dog dank, I?m high as fuck
Time to easyated and straight get sucked

Tina was a young ass freak
Start suckin? on my balls and my knees got weak
Nutted in the throat, she couldn't get with it
Took it out her mouth and slapped herself with it

It ain't the best I?ve ever had but baby, you?re good
I can't wait to tell the boys in the hood
It's time to take her home, her pussy stanks
But you can't smell it when you?re fuckin? wit dank

Fuckin? wit dank, fucking wit dank, fuckin? wit dank
(Yah baby, I tell ya)
Fuckin? wit dank, fucking wit dank, fuckin? wit dank
(With Ant Banks, yo)
Fuckin' wit dank, fucking wit dank, fuckin? wit dank
(Seven Deuce)
Hey Pooh, kick it

Hopped in the shell, hit the spot
I got the monkeys and I?m fiendin? for cock
Thought about a bitch I had around the way
Grabbed her on the phone, "Is it cool today?"

Bitch started mumblin?, finally said maybe
Let a ho meet a tone, "Alright then, baby"
Click, hung up on the freak
Thought about Pinkey, this ho from last week

Seems like I?m calling girls from all across the nation
All you girls can be on the administration
Fire up so? mo' dank, look some mo'
Man, I gotta find me a freaky ass ho

I'm tired of a bitch who won't suck dick
I need some head and I mean hella quick
Yeah, I got it 105th
This bitch named Monesha is a potent shit

But befo' I got, I need gas in my tank
Like a car need petrol, Pooh need dank

Fuckin? wit dank, fucking wit dank, fuckin? wit dank
(Yah baby, I tell ya)
Fuckin? wit dank, fucking wit dank, fuckin? wit dank
(With Ant Banks, yo)
Fuckin' wit dank, fucking wit dank, fuckin? wit dank
(Seven Deuce)
Pooh, come again, boy

Fool, snort hop, some snort crack
Fire up the indo and straight kick back
With a bitch or maybe the fellas
Oh what a feelin?, yeah man, I tell ya

George, Jon Jon, the whole damn crew
Fire up the dank for MC Pooh
To the partners from the park, Joe Ray and Budd
Indo's the shit, man, where's the bud?

Seminary, dat and wang
Choke it or smoke it, man, it ain't no thang
98th and Walnut, where's the dank?
I'm gonna smoke this shit until my damn breath stanks

Hub, Glen, Shawn and Beave
I ain't talking, man, unless you got weed
Ron, Boo, my homeboy Frog
Old school partnas from juvenile hall

I got the gin and juice, and gas in my tank
But the day ain't shit without an ace of dank

Fuckin? wit dank, fucking wit dank, fuckin? wit dank
(Yah baby, I tell ya)
Fuckin? wit dank, fucking wit dank, fuckin? wit dank
(With Ant Banks, yo)
Fuckin' wit dank, fucking wit dank, fuckin? wit dank
(Seven Deuce)

Hey yo Pooh, pass the dank, the gin and the juice
So I can get loose and produce
Some gansta shit and Ant Banks'll get fucked up
And make your shit sound legit

So, get with this hit that you?re listening to
I made it, bitch, and it's gettin? you
Into the mood, you wanna suck my dick
You know it bitch and get wit it

Wet dem lips and you better be great
Serve my dick like a mothafuckin? waitress
And that's word to the motha
From a brotha with a big ass dick, bitch, anotha

It has been made by bad ass Anthony Banks
MC Pooh and the Deuce and big Bruce comin? through straight

Fuckin? wit dank, fucking wit dank, fuckin? wit dank
(Yah baby, I tell ya)
Fuckin? wit dank, fucking wit dank, fuckin? wit dank
(With Ant Banks, yo)
Fuckin' wit dank, fucking wit dank, fuckin? wit dank
(Seven Deuce)

Fuckin? wit dank, fucking wit dank, fuckin? wit dank
(Yah baby, I tell ya)
Fuckin? wit dank, fucking wit dank, fuckin? wit dank
(With Ant Banks, yo)
Fuckin' wit dank, fucking wit dank, fuckin? wit dank
(Seven Deuce)

Fuckin? wit dank, fucking wit dank, fuckin? wit dank
(Yah baby, I tell ya)
Fuckin? wit dank, fucking wit dank, fuckin? wit dank
(With Ant Banks, yo)
Fuckin' wit dank, fucking wit dank, fuckin? wit dank
(Seven Deuce)
...

Play the MP3 online for free!

ad04ab0e36ad3f9ab1844d84267fd100

40 - 7 Much - Lyrics - E

Title: 40 - 7 Much
Artist: E
Composer(s): Sam Bostic, Tenina Stevens, Jerry B Long, Michael Mosley, Earl Stevens, Rick James

Lyric:
Doin' too much, too much, 7 much, too much
Don't you know that I'm the one
You can't get nothin' over on me, baby

Doin' too much, too much, way too much, too much
You doin' too much, I'm the one

I see you over there peepin' a player out from hella far away
Tryin' to get with some of this here mackin'
Apparently you ain't tryin' hard enough 'cause if you was
You woulda been made your way over here to the V.I.P. with us

Where yo' man at? What's the matter with that clown
Leavin' a sharp-ass lil' broad like you up in here with all us players?
Hopefully you up in here with some of yo' friends, so some of my friends
Can get with some of yo' friends and turn it into somethin'

I'm fin' to walk over here to the bar and get the bartender
To mix me one of my customized drinks without the blender
Get everybody up in the club up in here off the numb-numb juice
Vodka, 7-Up, and Cran-apple juice

The ladies outnumber the fellas six-to-one
And me and my fellas up in here like good one pimp, we all won
The pretty one's in here are hot like a dog in heat
Touchin' they toes, backin' it up, and dancin' like a freak

Doin' too much, too much, 7 much, too much
Don't you know that I'm the one
You can't get nothin' over on me, baby

Doin' too much, too much, way too much, too much
You doin' too much, I'm the one

Man, I'm over here on super-purp'
Up in the club hollerin' at somebody else's work
Yeah, pimpin', I'm up on all the slang that you make up
But I believe you stay about your marbles and be about your bacon

Youse a player about yours and I'm sensin' and smellin'
That youse one of them sharp-ass lil' sisters, huh?
Might even want you to be my baby, maybe ma
Speakin' upon my baby ma, here she comes

And she hoodrat, hoodrat, hoochie momma
Same ol', same ol', dry-ass drama
Comin' up in my face about the, child support
Talkin' about, takin' me to court

Takin' me to court, can't work me
Most of these hoes be mo' full of shit
Than a Christmas turkey

Doin' too much, too much, 7 much, too much
Don't you know that I'm the one
You can't get nothin' over on me, baby

Doin' too much, too much, way too much, too much
You doin' too much, I'm the one

Well alright ho', boss mo', player hater hater my noggin'
D-Boy, people swear up and down I'm a rocker
But I'm a soil block turf hog built for battle
15's in the trunk, like a snake they rattle

Leave skid marks all on the gravel
Drivin' like a bat outta hell to the hotel
Bounce roll rock skate side to side
Baby got the gin and the Astroglade

I hopin' that the jimmy don't bust
While I thrust much cush gush knock boots with lust
Swish swush, loose nuts, drop juice drip stuff
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 much

Doin' too much, too much, 7 much, too much
Don't you know that I'm the one
You can't get nothin' over on me, baby

Doin' too much, too much, way too much, too much
You doin' too much, I'm the one

Baby, baby, baby, baby, you doin' too much
And all the fellas say
And all the ladies say
And all the fellas say
And all the ladies say
And all the fellas say
And all the ladies say

Play the MP3 online for free!

ccfd018eb7a39222379e93847ad12ed9

Ride If You Like - Lyrics - Thug On Da Line - Krayzie Bone

Title: Ride If You Like
Album: Thug On Da Line
Artist: Krayzie Bone
Composer(s): E Britt, A Henderson, K Ward, L T Hutton

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

Lyric:
107 Point, uhh, Thugline Radio
Callin you on the air
What'cha wanna hear baby

Hi, I wanna hear the new Thugline Krayzie Bone joint
You know, the one with

Ah yeah, yeah, yeah, that's right Krayzie Bone
107 Point, uhh, all day in your, uhh, in your pee hole baby

Umm, can I get some tickets

Thugline, Thugline
It's Thugline, Thugline

If y'all niggaz think y'all can keep up (ride if ya like)
Then come into my world we just ( thugs for life)
Think we just hangin let's ride (ride if ya like)
Have a hell of a time on the Line
Thugline (thugs for life)

If y'all niggaz think y'all can keep up (ride if ya like)
Then come into my world we just ( thugs for life)
Think we just hangin let's ride (ride if ya like)
Have a hell of a time on the Line
Thugline (thugs for life)

Y'all niggaz can't keep up (can't keep up)
Bust bigger like a D-cup
And after we get rid of this dope we gon' have to re up
All you could say is we what? (what) thugs for life
No if, ands, or fuckin buts, so ride if you like
I stand and cut (stand and cut) and sparkin the weed up quick to heat up
Them ladies love the way the thunder (thunder)
Poke 'em waitin that cock beat up
Mic freaker, dope seeker, and i'm bangin thru your speakers
Stop ringin my beeper bitch I said i'll see you when I see you
Best believe a nigga servin more wood than
Ain't nobody been in and out of more draws than me neither
Now pass the reefer to propel cheif, but nigga heaven's not either
And that dip is only for all believers
Now if you still with us you kept up
If not, guess what?
They're comin to crept up
And y'all chose the wrong niggaz to step up
It's F'd up, but can't and ain't changin either
Thugline ain't for the bullshit, and Mo Thug neither

If y'all niggaz think y'all can keep up (ride if ya like)
Then come into my world we just ( thugs for life)
Think we just hangin let's ride (ride if ya like)
Have a hell of a time on the Line
Thugline (thugs for life)

If y'all niggaz think y'all can keep up (ride if ya like)
Then come into my world we just ( thugs for life)
Think we just hangin let's ride (ride if ya like)
Have a hell of a time on the Line
Thugline (thugs for life)

Where the thugs at?
Ain't nuttin but dimes in the back
And oh we wanna know just who's the mack with the biggest sack
Where your crew at? We can do that

Got the Juice and the Gin round up all your cutest friends
Got the Herbs and X and thicks that serve sex
We hope you G'd up
Cuz bitches weed up flossin them D-cups
We came to kick it so don't smoke the weed up
Check the riders for heat cuz you know
Them drunk ass niggaz they always seem to fuck up the flow
Let's go to the pool and sip Martini in our new bikiniz
The mood is right we tipsy and jacuzzi is steamy
These bitches see me and they mad cuz the thugs on my crew
These niggaz riders, they love dope, don't give a fuck about you
They got the stripper up in V.I.P., for ballers with cheese
All of this please is streasin me like y'all won't believe
They all up on me
I roll with playaz that pack heat and love crime
I represent the ladies bitch the crew is Thugline
Ya know?

If y'all niggaz think y'all can keep up (ride if ya like)
Then come into my world we just ( thugs for life)
Think we just hangin let's ride (ride if ya like)
Have a hell of a time on the Line
Thugline (thugs for life)

If y'all niggaz think y'all can keep up (ride if ya like)
Then come into my world we just ( thugs for life)
Think we just hangin let's ride (ride if ya like)
Have a hell of a time on the Line
Thugline (thugs for life)

Get up outta my car i'm feelin ziggity, ziggity, ziggity
Can I get a little bit of Hennesy
Add a little bit of Gin and we got that Sin, let the party begin
I'm with my friends and we rollin
Smokin, blowin, chokin, rollin up some more, and more 'til we POD' ed
Past cromatose fucked up and weeded
Need more reason for chillin, we having a good time
And plus the hood's tight, so should I put up my pistol? No
I brought my digs but you never know about these thug haters
Gotta stay ready to blaze 'em, fade 'em
But it ain't shit happening my niggas what's happening?
This one for the family and it gotta be T, H, U, G, Line
Let me hit it one more time
Look at my eyes shut all the way
We in the sky cuz the only way to fly is high
Come take a fly with'cha nigga hit this and close your eyes
Get a ride free your mind
But watch out for one time
Can never get blinded them bitches get up and they trailing behind me
I'ma be the nigga with the heat seeker bring it on

If y'all niggaz think y'all can keep up (ride if ya like)
Then come into my world we just ( thugs for life)
Think we just hangin let's ride (ride if ya like)
Have a hell of a time on the Line
Thugline (thugs for life)

Play the MP3 online for free!

a3f7b253efa6829c7dfb002c0b956f7e

Hoes - Lyrics - Blow The Whistle - Too $Hort

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

The Hardest.. - Lyrics - Smoke Boogie: Space Oddessey - Kurupt

Title: The Hardest..
Album: Smoke Boogie: Space Oddessey
Artist: Kurupt
Composer(s): Nathaniel Hale, Ricardo Brown, Sean Cruse, Alvin Joiner, Farid Nassar, Lorenzo Patterson

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

Lyric:
Yo, Fredwreck, turn this motherfucker up man
So it can fuck with my eardrums a lil' bit

Some try to repeat my flow
Others neva try 'cuz they know
I told ya that the game don't wait
I'm so tight that I can wait for the game

Just about as tight, as tight can be
That's why you never see 'em fuckin' with me
Get ya chance to bow out gracefully
You standin' face to face with defeat

If you feel me say Nate, Nate
He be the tightest muthafucka in here
Dogg Pound Gangsta Gang
We be the hardest muthafuckaz in here

Some things never change
We be the hardest muthafuckaz in here
Dogg Pound Gangsta Gang
We be the hardest muthafuckaz in here

Bring yo bitch ass in, close the door
Now you wanna run and fetch me a ho
Motha fucka tell yo mama tip-toe
When she pass my door

Kurupt, got this bitch about to toss this ho
And when we makin' the nigga shit
Always makin' the killin'
I be hearin' you bitches, there go the villain

Mad 'cuz your revenue stopped from drug dealin'
Mad at me 'cuz I'm makin' shit, them thug's feelin'
Hold my dick, nigga, spit that verse
The hardest muthafucka nigga love to curse

It get worse, once the vill' start to smoke
And this legendary dick start to soak in your throat
My nigga, Young Gotti ?bout to pull your coat
Who are you bitch? You muthafuckaz never exist

If you feel me say Nate, Nate
He be the tightest muthafucka in here
Dogg Pound Gangsta Gang
We be the hardest muthafuckaz in here

Some things never change
We be the hardest muthafuckaz in here
Dogg Pound Gangsta Gang
We be the hardest muthafuckaz in here

So what you know about this West Coast monopoly
Enough animosity to tear down democracy
Anarchy, you wanna analyze and copy me
But muthafuck, that stay off my goddamn property

Xzibit burn a couple ounces of that broccoli
Step into the function, make the crowd bounce properly
Yeah, I know about your little shit talkin' mockery
Tryin' to see and pour 6 feet of gravel on top of me

And all my playaz go to wakes, so the next nigga can take my place
And try to invade my space
Make enemies search for God like Ma$e, yeah
You should avoid catchin' 2 to the face, so I can avoid catchin' a case

You'se just another muthafuckin' rat in a race
I explode and expose to this multi-platinum fan base
Never seen before I kick in your door
Ain't no time to run for them guns, just get on the floor

If you feel me say Nate, Nate
He be the tightest muthafucka in here
Dogg Pound Gangsta Gang
We be the hardest mutha fuckaz in here

Some things never change
We be the hardest muthafuckaz in here
Dogg Pound Gangsta Gang
We be the hardest muthafuckaz in here

Yeah, a penny for your thoughts in a hour glass of time
Surround sound beats for the Dogg Pound jeeps
Jump the volts up in each single switch
Stick somethin' fat up in each single bitch

Bombshell and for every dick apiece
That ain't from the hood driftin' get 5 shells each
Split bustaz, no bustaz allowed
No punk motha fuckaz allowed, loosen the crowd

Dogg Pound say it loud, Dogg Pound
Scream it at the top of your lungs
Tell these niggaz where we from
Say Kurupt, Kurupt, Kurupt

Yeah, nigga the hardest muthafucka in here
I like Hennessy and beer
Remy, gin and juice, tequila and grapefruit
Chocolate thai, indigo sticks and a thick bitch

Down and out, nah, I'm up and in
Down at the Dogg House with Dre, Cube & Ren

If you feel me say Nate, Nate
He be the tightest muthafucka in here
Dogg Pound Gangsta Gang
We be the hardest muthafuckaz in here

Some things never change
We be the hardest muthafuckaz in here
Dogg Pound Gangsta Gang
We be the hardest muthafuckaz in here

Play the MP3 online for free!

fc8f9439bc73842551c94682ded12ab6

Wasted Again - Lyrics - Turbonegro

Title: Wasted Again
Artist: Turbonegro
Composer(s): Thomas Seltzer, Hans Erik Dyvik, Rune Gronn, Pal Kjaernes, Christer Engen, Knut Schreiner

Lyric:
1, 2, 3, 4

I've got a brand new bag, the old one was such a drag
I'm going to the void, I'm gonna get destroyed

Sweeping floors, working nine to five
Working for the weekend just to stay alive
Streets are dead but I'm totally wired
It's 4 a.m and my soul is on fire

And I'm wasted again
Tanked up on the juice and gin
Wasted again, all right

We're going to the disco, we're going to the bar
We're going in the snowplough, we're gonna take it far

Sweeping floors working nine to five
Working for the weekend just to stay alive
Streets are dead but I'm totally wired
Dude, it's 4 a.m and my soul is on fire

And I'm wasted again
Tanked up on the juice and gin
Wasted again, all right

You know I'm wasted again
I'll never ever feel this good again
Wasted again, fuck yeah

So won't you meet me in the twilight zone
'Cause I'm the boy that nobody owns
And my body is a temple, my body is a temple
My body is a temple and tonight I'll tear it down

Wasted again
Tanked up on the juice and gin
Wasted again, all right

You know I'm wasted again
I'll never ever feel this good again
Wasted again, fuck yeah

I'm the boy that nobody owns
I'm the boy that nobody owns
I'm the boy that nobody owns
And I'm wasted

Play the MP3 online for free!

b0a40c733b1bb9a73ab4db6b2bf8a1f1

The Hardest Mutha Fuckaz - Lyrics - Kurupt

Title: The Hardest Mutha Fuckaz
Artist: Kurupt
Composer(s): Ricardo Brown, Sean Cruse, Nathaniel Hale, Alvin Joiner, Farid Nassar, Lorenzo Jerald Patterson

Lyric:
Yo, Fred wreck turn this motha fucker up man
So it can fuck with my eardrums a lil' bit
So, bad ass, who the homie's dat?
No suckers in Dogg Gangsta Pound
Some they daught
Nigga, ya gonna kick rock
Ya, suckers, y'all gonna get out here, pound
Yeah, I wanna smash on this suckers ass
Yo, now gangstas on

Some try to repeat my flow
Others never try 'cuz they know
I told ya that the game don't wait
I'm so tight that I can wait for the game

Just about as tight, as tight can be
That's why you never see 'em fuckin' with me
Get ya chance to bow out gracefully
You standin' face to face with defeat

If you feel me say Nate, Nate
He'd be the tightest mutha fucka in here
Dogg Pound Gangsta Gang
We'd be the hardest mutha fuckaz in here

Some things never change
We'd be the hardest mutha fuckaz in here
Dogg Pound Gangsta Gang
We'd be the hardest mutha fuckaz in here

Bring yo, bitch ass in, close the door
Now, you wanna run and fetch me a ho
Motha fucka tell yo mama tip toe
When she pass my door, Kurupt

Got this bitch about to toss this ho
And when we makin' the nigga shit
Always makin' the killin'
I be hearin' you bitches, there go the villain

Mad 'cuz your revenue stopped from drug dealin'
Mad at me 'cuz I'm makin' shit them thug's feelin'
Hold my dick nigga spit that verse
The hardest mutha fucka nigga love to curse

It get worse, once the vill' start to smoke
And this legendary dick start to soak in your throat
My nigga Young Gotti, 'bout to pull your coat
Who are you bitch, you mutha fuckaz never exist

If you feel me say Nate, Nate
He'd be the tightest mutha fucka in here
Dogg Pound Gangsta Gang
We'd be the hardest mutha fuckaz in here

Some things never change
We'd be the hardest mutha fuckaz in here
Dogg Pound Gangsta Gang
We'd be the hardest mutha fuckaz in here

So what you know about this West Coast monopoly
Enough animosity to tear down democracy
Anarchy, you wanna analyze and copy me
But mutha fuck that stay off my God damn property

Xzibit burn a couple ounces of that broccoli
Step into the function make the crowd bounce properly
Yeah, I know about your little shit talkin' mockery
Tryin' to see and pour six feet of gravel on top of me

And all my playaz go to wakes
So the next nigga can take my place
And try to invade my space
Make my enemies search for God like Maze, yeah

You should avoid catchin' two to the face
So I can avoid catchin' a case
You'se just another mutha fuckin' rat in a race

I explode and expose to this multi-platinum fan base
Never seen before I kick in your door
Ain't no time to run for them guns
Just get on the floor

If you feel me say Nate, Nate
He'd be the tightest mutha fucka in here
Dogg Pound Gangsta Gang
We'd be the hardest mutha fuckaz in here

Some things never change
We'd be the hardest mutha fuckaz in here
Dogg Pound Gangsta Gang
We'd be the hardest mutha fuckaz in here

Yeah, a penny for your thoughts in a hour glass of time
Surround sound beats for the Dogg Pound jeeps
Jump the volts up in each single switch
Stick somethin' fat up in each single bitch

Bombshell and for every dick apiece
That ain't from the hood driftin' get five shells each
Split bustaz, no bustaz allowed
No punk motha fuckaz allowed, loosen the crowd
Dogg Pound say it loud, Dogg Pound

Scream it at the top of your lungs
Tell these niggaz where we from
Say Kurupt, Kurupt, Kurupt
Yeah, nigga, the hardest mutha fucka in here

I like Hennessey and beer Remy, gin and juice
The killa and grapefruit, chocolate Thai
Indigo sticks and a thick bitch
Down and out, nah I'm up and in
Down at the Dogg House with Dre, Cube and Ren

If you feel me say Nate, Nate
He'd be the tightest mutha fucka in here
Dogg Pound Gangsta Gang
We'd be the hardest mutha fuckaz in here

Some things never change
We'd be the hardest mutha fuckaz in here
Dogg Pound Gangsta Gang
We'd be the hardest mutha fuckaz in here

Play the MP3 online for free!

4fa9ddd849707def9235455b1635df89

Turn'Al - Peepin' Tom - Lyrics - Knoc

Title: Turn'Al - Peepin' Tom
Artist: Knoc
Composer(s): Larry Gates, Royal Rosheam Harbor

Lyric:
Yeah, it's how we do
This a little story about uh
A nigga you know well, Knoc-Turn'al

I can see you watching waitin' in my garden
In my bushes plottin'
Peepin' Tom's in my home lookin' in my window

Once upon a time in the projects, yo
There lived a nigga named Knoc-Turn'al
America's most wanted, for sho'
In a black Lo-Lo, with tinted windows

I'm just cruisin' down the street in my 6-4
Checking all my traps and all my hoes
Life is, too short, I stay on my toes
G'd up, spill gin and juice on brand new clothes

Pulled up, hit a switch and dropped the back
On the prowl in a black hat lookin' for cats
I got a chrome plaque that reads, "Who's the Mac?"
Black pussy, always talk about it 'cause I love it

This California love got a nigga drunk in public
Express yo' self, keep doin' it good
Got white on the block, keep the heat in the bush
Keep risin' to the top, keep smokin' the kush

The boys in the hood are always hard
Come talkin' that trash, we'll pull your guard
Knowin' nothin' in life but to be legit
Can't trust my homies, can't trust no bitch

Don't quote me boy, 'cause I ain't say shit
It's hotter on the block than it is in the kitchen
And I'm hard in the paint, listen, I'm steady dippin'
I get down, while your bullshittin'

And these are the tales, the freaky tales
Of a nigga on the grind that you know so well
Got a system in your trunk then I'm jacking for beats
Black Superman, I put it down for L.A.C

Just as grip the pump in my lap at all times
Fools be jackin' other fools but they don't be jackin' mine
Summer time in the L.B.C. fuck the police
Fuck being bound by law and the peace treaty

We be clubbin', everybody likes when the girls shake somethin'
System overload, stay bumpin'
It's thug life, y'all know the rules
Gotta do what ya gotta do, and stay true

Propose a toast to the West Coast
Easily I approach the microphone because I ain't no joke
Tell your mama to get off of my dip
I have no time to give her my dick

I'm gonna hold it and walk around the stage
And if you fuck up, I'm gonna get my gauge and shrivel you up
Like California raisins, unload the barrel and laugh
'Cause I'm puttin lead in your motherfuckin' ass

I can see you watching waitin' in my garden
In my bushes plottin'
Peepin' Tom's in my home lookin' in my window

I'm on the radio, and ain't a damn thing funny
It's just like Compton, bitch better have my money
I messed up and I don't know why
Tryin' to get a piece of that American Pie

Do my thing, blow off the roof on 187-Proof
It's gettin' funky, it's gettin' funky
It's the formula, murder was the case that they gave me
Dear God, I wonder can You save me?

Dear Mama, Brenda had a baby
Hard times got a nigga goin' crazy
The hood can't take me under, it's a G-thang
We backyard bullyin' in the land where we bang

Gangsta's make the world go 'round
What's my motherfuckin' name?
Knoc-Turn'al, and I didn't even have to use my AK
Today was a good day

Play the MP3 online for free!

9996b8b19ee0adee351cf36bc53f6261

Rodeo - Lyrics - Method Man

Title: Rodeo
Artist: Method Man
Composer(s): Betty Davis, Christopher Bridges, Clifford Smith

Lyric:
Come on, come on, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
(Come on ride in my rodeo, come on ride in my rodeo)
This one of another one of them nasty M.E.F. joints
Come on, come on, come on
(Come on ride in my rodeo, come on ride in my rodeo)

To all the chicks with their asses thick
Out the whole click, she the baddest bitch
Dose-doh, 'round your partner, switch
Clan in da front, we be starting shit

No, don't trip, dog, spark 'em, quick
Holla when a real nigga talkin' trick
We got grip but we ain't spendin' shit
You and your friends, stop pretendin' trip

Let a nigga get nut pushed, better yet let a nigga get some head
I work 'em, work 'em or feed 'em, burp 'em then jerk 'em, instead
I get my nuts pushed from the bottom to the top of your gums
I feel your slurpin', slurpin', I'm skeetin' and squirtin' your tongue

And I got about five grand but I won't be spendin' a dime
See 'cuz overspendin's a crime and I can't be spendin' my time
If you get your guts pushed, could because of Luda and Meth
Could because we do it the best, could because we screw 'em to death

Come up out of them dirty clothes
Bend on over and touch them toes
Uh oh, we oh, we oh
Come on and ride this rodeo

Meth and Luda, we lock and load
'Round your partner, now dose-doh
Uh oh, we oh, we oh
Come on and ride this rodeo

I wonder where about five bottles of gin, models that wanna swallow
And wobble, gobble again, tell a couple of friends
I slap that ass, bitch, take a look and see what you got in
'Cuz I've been schemin' and plottin' to have you breathin' and stoppin'

What we talkin' 'bout? Pussy poppin', car hoppin' women
See 'em watchin', clockin' pigeons, flockin' Luda
They jockin'. lightin' buddha and boots is rockin'
Nameless hoes, take 'em brainless with painted toes
Famous she code, twerkin' pussy, hurtin', workin' that pose

They wanna raise that pussy tab, price and position
Enticin' these women, given the proper juice
Life that they livin', hope that they double deuce
Shifted ass cheeks last week in Ludacris's backseat
Afraid so, ask son, taste them

Now watch me, dog 'em, freak 'em
Out every weekend, she puttin' A.P.B's on my dick
I keep on bettin' and breathin'
Where's my pants, I'm leavin'

I'm speakin' facts, mammies creepin' and they cheatin'
They even sleepin' with mats, some be eatin' that cat
I'm teasin', indecent expose, Method be tweakin'
Keep pussies leakin' through pantyhose, marijuana smell on my clothes

This evening, these bunnies got me on swoll
I bust and reload
Honey, break out the 'dro and give me some mo'
[Incomprehensible] rodeo

Come up out of them dirty clothes
Bend on over and touch them toes
Uh oh, we oh, we oh
Come on and ride this rodeo

Meth and Luda, we lock and load
'Round your partner, now dose-doh
Uh oh, we oh, we oh
Come on and ride this rodeo

Play the MP3 online for free!

458c77937af031cd4aa91a186aabb1a0

Mambo Number 5 - Lyrics - Lou Bega

Title: Mambo Number 5
Artist: Lou Bega
Composer(s): David Lubega, Christian Pletschacher, Perez Prado

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

Lyric:
Ladies and gentleman this is Mambo no 5

One, two, three, four, five everybody in the car, so come on
Let's ride to the liquor store around the corner
The boys say they want some gin and juice
But I really don't wanna, beer bust like I had last week
I must stay deep because talk is cheap

I like Angela, Pamela, Sandra and Rita
And as I continue you know they are getting sweeter
So what can I do I really beg you my Lord
To me is flirting it's just like sport, anything fly
It's all good let me dump it please set in the trumpet

A little bit of Monica in my life, a little bit of Erica by my side
A little bit of Rita is all I need, a little bit of Tina is what I see
A little bit of Sandra in the sun, a little bit of Mary all night long
A little bit of Jessica here I am, a little bit of you makes me your man

Mambo no 5

Jump up and down and move it all around
Shake your head to the sound, put your hand on the ground
Take one step left and one step right
One to the front and one to the side
Clap your hand once and clap your hands twice
And if it looks like this then you are doing it right

A little bit of Monica in my life, a little bit of Erica by my side
A little bit of Rita is all I need, a little bit of Tina is what I see
A little bit of Sandra in the sun, a little bit of Mary all night long
A little bit of Jessica here I am, a little bit of you makes me your man

Trumpet, the trumpet
Mambo no 5

A little bit of Monica in my life, a little bit of Erica by my side
A little bit of Rita is all I need, a little bit of Tina is what I see
A little bit of Sandra in the sun, a little bit of Mary all night long
A little bit of Jessica here I am, a little bit of you makes me your man

I do all, to fall in love with a girl like you
You can't run and you can't hide
You and me gonna touch the sky

Mambo no 5

Play the MP3 online for free!

f28c31d78c226f5abadfda0f61e456ab

Mambo No. 5 - Lyrics - Lou Bega

Title: Mambo No. 5
Artist: Lou Bega
Composer(s): David Lubega, Christian Pletschacher, Perez Prado

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

Lyric:
Ladies and gentleman this is Mambo no 5

One, two, three, four, five everybody in the car, so come on
Let's ride to the liquor store around the corner
The boys say they want some gin and juice
But I really don't wanna, beer bust like I had last week
I must stay deep because talk is cheap

I like Angela, Pamela, Sandra and Rita
And as I continue you know they are getting sweeter
So what can I do I really beg you my Lord
To me is flirting it's just like sport, anything fly
It's all good let me dump it please set in the trumpet

A little bit of Monica in my life, a little bit of Erica by my side
A little bit of Rita is all I need, a little bit of Tina is what I see
A little bit of Sandra in the sun, a little bit of Mary all night long
A little bit of Jessica here I am, a little bit of you makes me your man

Mambo no 5

Jump up and down and move it all around
Shake your head to the sound, put your hand on the ground
Take one step left and one step right
One to the front and one to the side
Clap your hand once and clap your hands twice
And if it looks like this then you are doing it right

A little bit of Monica in my life, a little bit of Erica by my side
A little bit of Rita is all I need, a little bit of Tina is what I see
A little bit of Sandra in the sun, a little bit of Mary all night long
A little bit of Jessica here I am, a little bit of you makes me your man

Trumpet, the trumpet
Mambo no 5

A little bit of Monica in my life, a little bit of Erica by my side
A little bit of Rita is all I need, a little bit of Tina is what I see
A little bit of Sandra in the sun, a little bit of Mary all night long
A little bit of Jessica here I am, a little bit of you makes me your man

I do all, to fall in love with a girl like you
You can't run and you can't hide
You and me gonna touch the sky

Mambo no 5

Play the MP3 online for free!

fed03728c1862eb97e6d79af81c174e2

Take It In Blood - Lyrics - It Was Written - Nas

Title: Take It In Blood
Album: It Was Written
Artist: Nas
Composer(s): Joseph Pruitt, Trevor Randolph, Randy Walker, Maurice Smith, James T Epps, Nasir Jones, Cedric Miller, Keith M Thornton

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

Lyric:
I made it like that, I bought it like that, I'm livin' like that
I made it like that, I bought it like that, I'm livin' like that

Yo, I never brag, how real I keep it, 'cause it's the best secret
I rock a vest, prestigious, Cuban link flooded Jesus
In a Lex watchin' Kathie Lee and Regis
My actions are one with the seasons

A tec' squeezin', executioner, winter time I rock a fur
Mega popular, center of attraction
Climaxin', my bitches they be laughin'
They high from sniffin' coke off a twenty-cent Andrew Jackson

City lights spark a New York night
Rossi and Martini sippin', Sergio Tachinni flippin' mad pies
Low price, I blow dice and throw 'em
Forty-five by my scrotum, manifest the, "Do or Die" slogan

My niggaz roll in ten M3's
Twenty Gods poppin' wheelies on Kawasaki's
Hip-Hop's got me on some ol', sprayin shots like a drumroll
Blankin' out and never miscount the shells my gun hold

I don't stunt, I regulate
Henny and Sprite, I seperate, watchin' crab niggaz marinate
I'm all about tecs and good jooks and sex
Israelite books, holdin' government names from Ness
MC's are crawlin' out, every hole in the slum
You be aight like blood money in a pimp's cum

I made it like that, I bought it like that, I'm livin' like that
I made it like that, I bought it like that, I'm livin' like that
For, you wack MC's

Currency is made in trust of the Messiah
I'm spending it to get higher
Earth, Wind, and Fire singing reasons why I'm
Up early, trustworthy is a nine that bust early

Sunshine on my grill, I spill
Remi on imaginary graves, put my hat on my waves
Latter Day Saints say religious praise
I dolo, challenge any team or solo

You must be buggin' out, new to my shit, home on a furlough
Ask around, who's laid up, sharp and straight up
Mafioso, gettin' niggaz wigs sprayed up
Skies are misty, my life's predicted by a gypsy

I'll one day walk into shots drunk off champange from Sicily
This be the drama, I'ma pause like a comma
In a sentence, paragraph's indented
Bloodshot red eyes, high, yellow envelopes of lye

Openin' cigars, let tobacco fly
Condos are tuneproof, we're looking out the sky's moonroof
Shittin' like gin and prune juice
Yo the system wants the coon's noose, hang 'em high

Courtrooms filled up, it's off the hook while I just wrote a statement
Like I'm facing twenty years in the basement
Chilling on the via with Mumia for wearin' chrome, I told the judge
Snakes slither like Sharon Stone, but like Capone I'm thrown

I made it like that, I bought it like that, I'm livin' like that
I made it like that, I bought it like that, I'm livin' like that
For, you wack MC's

I made it like that, I bought it like that, I'm livin' like that
I made it like that, I bought it like that, I'm livin' like that
For, you wack MC's

Yo the time is wastin', I use the mind elevation
Dime sack lacin', court pen pacin'
Individual, lyrical math abrasion
Psychic evaluation, the foulest nation

We livin' in, dangerous lives, mad leak and battered wives
A lifestyle where bad streets is patternized
Wise men build and destroy
While the real McCoy dopefiend, named Detroit is still dealin' boy

Coke suppliers actin' biased
'Cause rumors say that niggaz wear wires and we liars
But every night the gat's fired, and every day a rat's hired
I still remain the mack flyest in the phat Kani

It's just the killer in me, slash drug dealer MC
Ex-slug filler, semi mug peeler
Demi, bottles of Mo', yo simply follow me flow
Put poetry inside a crack pot and blow

Rough holes for cracked out pussies and buttholes
Bring the G's and the D's roll, they can't touch those
Why shoot the breeze about it, when you could be about it?
My degrees are routed, toward the peasy haired brick houses

Instead of the fake medallions
Rich niggaz transport in thousands
Foreign cash exchange amountin' to millions
Doors is locked, rocks is chopped, watch the cameras in the ceilings

Trick bitches catching mad feelings
Peelin' off in the Lex Jeep, techniques is four-wheelin'
I bet it be some shit when we connect with Stretch
When we catch them sex niggaz with the tecs you blessed, word
So now it's on, never wasted a slug
Time is money when it comes to mine, take it in blood

I made it like that, I bought it like that, I'm livin' like that
For, you wack MC's
I made it like that, I bought it like that, I'm livin' like that

I made it like that, I bought it like that, I'm livin' like that
For, you wack MC's
I made it like that, I bought it like that, I'm livin' like that

Gambo, Brownsville
Wizard, Fort Rockaway
Big Jersey
Connecticut, D.C., Sudan
V.A., N.C., L.A.
So on and so on
Big Ha, Houston Fifth Ward

Play the MP3 online for free!

78164507982f0be063f2f16fd519362a

Back On Top - Lyrics - Gameface - Master P

Title: Back On Top
Album: Gameface
Artist: Master P
Composer(s): Obi Nwobosi, George Jr Clinton, Walter Morrison, Garry Shider, Ainz Prasad, Percy Miller

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

Lyric:
Gameface, uuh
Check them haters out, check them haters out
Check them haters out, check them haters out
Check them haters out, check them haters out
What? What? What? What?
The new No Limit you heard me them 'round platinum tank

No Limit is back on top, ya'll haters can't stop us now
(Turn your Gameface, represent your nameplate)
No limit is back on top, ya'll haters can't stop us now
(Turn your Gameface, represent your nameplate)

Criticism in the party like it's H20
In the back of the club sayin' bring some more
Me and my soldiers where the party at?
Hinicy, Gin, and Juice who ordered that?
'Cuz ya'll got cars and we got locked
Ya'll buy houses and we buy blocks
It ain't No Limit to the dough I got
The Ghetto Bill Gates in the parkin' lot

No Limit is back on top, ya'll haters can't stop us now
(Turn your Gameface, represent your nameplate)
No limit is back on top, ya'll haters can't stop us now
(Turn your Gameface, represent your nameplate)

Got my pork chop mixed with 2 eggs
A country tycoon with a hole lot of bread
Bentleys and Hummers we 'bout that there
And all my No Limit Soldiers how you do that their?
A couple of pages left but man we got colder
6 feet 5 in the hood we break boulders
Smash supermodels 'cuz they chicks to me
And a million dollars more is like grits to me

No Limit is back on top, ya'll haters can't stop us now
(Turn your Gameface, represent your nameplate)
No limit is back on top, ya'll haters can't stop us now
(Turn your Gameface, represent your nameplate)

Always willin' out but if I'm not willin'
You can take a picture of me on the island smilin'
Love for the haters but they mostly envys
More type of shepherds on lock but they mostly 20's
Play this game, we suppose to win
I drive a lot of cars but they mostly Bentleys
Lot of glass for Cris but they mostly bottles
See me with ghetto chicks but mostly models and um

No Limit is back on top, ya'll haters can't stop us now
(Turn your Gameface, represent your nameplate)
No limit is back on top, ya'll haters can't stop us now
(Turn your Gameface, represent your nameplate)

Ya'll now we on top, but the tank ain't dropped
We be like non stop with the one spot on locked
You wanna play these games where the MVP's
So fresh and so clean like some people in jeans, uuh

Oh look, what? Look
We from the south where they got golds in they mouth
Barbeque's all day right in front of the house
We use slit and slang like
What's cracky man? What's happney man?
We goin' to a platinum, man
We play ball all year, it's that all year

No Limit, P. Miller man, that's all we wear
We run it phat, soldiers get down like that
From the club to the streets we get around like that
Sad vapor roll with dogs that will chase ya
There's love in the game but some will still rate ya
I'm the type jump a crowd and get hype
Rip in track check the source while mights

No Limit is back on top, ya'll haters can't stop us now
(Turn your Gameface, represent your nameplate)
No limit is back on top, ya'll haters can't stop us now
(Turn your Gameface, represent your nameplate)

Where them ballers at shot callers at?
Cris style more wet we want all of that
Where them ballers at shot callers at?
D. D. Rimin, we want all of that
No Limit run this for you?
Hell yea
I said No Limit run this for you?
Hell yea

No Limit is back on top, ya'll haters can't stop us now
(Turn your Gameface, represent your nameplate)
No limit is back on top, ya'll haters can't stop us now
(Turn your Gameface, represent your nameplate)

No Limit is back on top, ya'll haters can't stop us now
(Turn your Gameface, represent your nameplate)
No limit is back on top, ya'll haters can't stop us now
(Turn your Gameface, represent your nameplate)

No Limit is back on top, ya'll haters can't stop us now
(Turn your Gameface, represent your nameplate)
No limit is back on top, ya'll haters can't stop us now
(Turn your Gameface, represent your nameplate)
...

Play the MP3 online for free!

1beab972b6a2b1b2bb7e32626a79eee9