Got 2 Again - Lyrics - Roger Miller

Title: Got 2 Again
Artist: Roger Miller
Composer(s): Roger Miller

Lyric:
And in this song, we employ the use of numbers
And what I?ll do is have a volunteer give me a number
And I?ll take that number
And make a verse for a song out it

Now, if someone will give me
A number between 20 and 22
I?ll show you, what I mean, 21
That?s very good, first time, 21

Well, 21 take away 9
12 little children standing in a line
From that take 2 that leaves you 10
Take away 8 and you got 2 again

Yeah, you got 2 again, you got 2 again
You used to love me once and now you got 2 again
You got 2 again, you got 2 again
You used to love me once and now, you got 2 again

Now see how easy that was
For the second verse
I need someone to give me a number
Between 12 and 14, I'll make a verse, 13

13, ah, 13, well, 13 multiplied by 1
You still got 13 but wasn?t that fun
Now, take that same 13 multiply by 2
26 hours the train's overdue

Yeah, you got 2 again, you got 2 again
You used to love me once and now you got 2 again
You got 2 again, you got 2 again
You used to love me once and now, you got 2 again

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2
Happy people divided by 1
Leave nothing, nothing, none

You got 2 again, you got 2 again
You used to love me once and now, you got 2 again
You got 2 again, you got 2 again
You used to love me once and now, you got 2 again

You used to love me once and now, you got 2 again
You used to love me once and now, you got 2 again
You used to love me once and now, you got 2 again

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05cc6bce133c3dea848bc2320872665a

Got Two Again - Lyrics - Roger Miller

Title: Got Two Again
Artist: Roger Miller
Composer(s): Roger Miller

Lyric:
And in this song, we employ the use of numbers
And what I?ll do is have a volunteer give me a number
And I?ll take that number
And make a verse for a song out it

Now, if someone will give me
A number between 20 and 22
I?ll show you, what I mean, 21
That?s very good, first time, 21

Well, 21 take away 9
12 little children standing in a line
From that take 2 that leaves you 10
Take away 8 and you got 2 again

Yeah, you got 2 again, you got 2 again
You used to love me once and now you got 2 again
You got 2 again, you got 2 again
You used to love me once and now, you got 2 again

Now see how easy that was
For the second verse
I need someone to give me a number
Between 12 and 14, I'll make a verse, 13

13, ah, 13, well, 13 multiplied by 1
You still got 13 but wasn?t that fun
Now, take that same 13 multiply by 2
26 hours the train's overdue

Yeah, you got 2 again, you got 2 again
You used to love me once and now you got 2 again
You got 2 again, you got 2 again
You used to love me once and now, you got 2 again

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2
Happy people divided by 1
Leave nothing, nothing, none

You got 2 again, you got 2 again
You used to love me once and now, you got 2 again
You got 2 again, you got 2 again
You used to love me once and now, you got 2 again

You used to love me once and now, you got 2 again
You used to love me once and now, you got 2 again
You used to love me once and now, you got 2 again

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Get Dirty - Lyrics - Double Up - R. Kelly

Title: Get Dirty
Album: Double Up
Artist: R. Kelly
Composer(s): Robert Kelly, Slav Vynnytsky, Marc Joseph, Hakeem Sariki

Lyric:
And this for my ******, *******, playas, pimps
While they keep it in the street, we gon? keep it in the streets
And this for my ******, *******, playas, pimps
While they keep it in the street, we gon? keep it in the streets

Hey hey, I'm Hollyhood
I'm on Patron in the club feelin? good
Hey hey, I'm so high
And the DJ got the club so loud

Hands up, now let ?em bounce
2 steppin? lil mama work it out
Go down, now get dirty
Go down, now get dirty

Roll up on dem wheels again, hop up out that whip again
Talkin? with them chicks again in the club Kells on the scene again
Order me some rounds again, man I?m 'bout to clown again
I?m about to see them strippers comin? down them poles again

****** in the club gettin? out of control again
Man they 'bout to come and shut this whole ***** down again
Take it to my crib, that?s what?s up
The after party, that?s what?s up
Straight 'til the mornin?, that?s what?s up
Now get the **** out, that?s what?s up

Stuntin? I don?t give a ****, take my chain hold it up
Bounce it like a real playa, pimp all in my cup
Man I?m in the club and I?m looking for a main chick
Someone I can brain chick, someone I can stand chick

Hey hey, I'm Hollyhood
I'm on Patron in the club feelin? good
Hey hey, I'm so high
And the DJ got the club so loud

Hands up, now let ?em bounce
2 steppin? lil mama work it out
Go down, now get dirty
Go down, now get dirty

Yeah, ladies tell me I?m too cute and that translates that I?m too rich
They wanna spend the night at the crib so they hit the club with 2 fifths
We always be in VIP and each player got 2 chicks
They look at us like we live here, they look at y?all like, ?Who?s this??

We ain?t trippin? about the media, send 'em one of our platinum plaques
Matter of fact you can send a pic of our middle fingers attached to that
All eyes on me ?cause I?m the playa all the haters wanna be, wanna be

Hey hey, I'm Hollyhood
I'm on Patron in the club feelin? good
Hey hey, I'm so high
And the DJ got the club so loud

Hands up, now let ?em bounce
2 steppin? lil mama work it out
Go down, now get dirty
Go down, now get dirty

Purple Phantom, dip low, blowin? out that purple smoke
Open up that closet door, fresh shoes, fresh clothes
Private jets, takin? trips, ballin? mayne, spinnin? chips
Give that girl a gold medal the way she out there turnin? flips

Bend it over, that?s what?s up
Now shake it nasty, that?s what?s up
Girl here?s my number, that?s what?s up
Gimme that, that?s what?s up

Man, you know we pimpin?
Man, you know we sippin?
Man, you know we got them chicks
In the pool skinny dippin?

Hey hey, I'm Hollyhood
I'm on Patron in the club feelin? good
Hey hey, I'm so high
And the DJ got the club so loud

Hands up, now let ?em bounce
2 steppin? lil mama work it out
Go down, now get dirty
Go down, now get dirty

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78f917c5eefbdca9684398ca52774d8a

Boyz 2 Men - Lyrics - Canibus

Title: Boyz 2 Men
Artist: Canibus
Composer(s): Germaine Williams, Roosevelt Harrell, Terrence Kelly

Lyric:
Basically, LB Fam to the motherfuckin' death
Park side, Queen's niggaz represent
Long Isle, how we do? They know our style
Represent niggaz in and out the P now
Yo, I could do this mother shit for a while
I don't give a fuck, my rap style be true yo
Eh yo, yo, yo, how we do this

Hey yo we'll back on my South Side, Jamaica part of town
Where us real niggas love to get down
Where you only hear G and P finessin' tracks up on the tape
We stuck in Queens and I'm not tryin' to escape
Yo I'm havin' cess, drinkin', I'm kickin' raps and Emceein
L B for life, kid my way of bein'
It's time to, set up shops, wild in this game and got props
And fuck cops, we puffin' lah wit windows up in drop tops

Nothin' stops my crew from gettin' it we learn from the past
Puffin' on this ounce of weed, I got this drink in my glass
Conversatin' with myself, what does my future hold?
Niggaz is dyin', will I make it past thirty years old?
I can't run, I guess I gots to hold it down till I'm done
What the fuck's the deal? I been doin' this here from day one
Official Queen's nigga, be a Lost Boy till my death
Until I breathe the mothafuckin' last breath

Eh yo from boyz 2 men, we're strictly Fam, no longer friends
Let's keep it thorough, I hold it down till it's on again
Until we meet again, yo I'm back up on the street again
I'm tryin' to take it, throw out my nine but pack the heat again
Eh yo from boyz 2 men, we're strictly Fam, no longer friends
Let's keep it thorough, I hold it down till it's on again
Until we meet again, yo I'm back up on the street again
I'm tryin' to take it, throw out my nine but pack the heat again

My mind is reachin' twice that size than it only did last year
Three times it's likely to feel clear
A+, I transform into a super emcee
With super vocals quicker than Superman can find a phone booth
The whole truth nothin' but the whole truth, I roast you
Thermonuclear vocals get hotter that in Shanobal
The double O, we ever sold just abide nuclear explosions
Exposin' radiation like a vulcan

I'm the only guy that knows why the golden eye was stolen by five
Soviet spies, they told me to lie, they don't want to hear the God spit
Chop my hands off at the armpits but I regenerate limbs
Like Star fish, comin' at you with the hard shit
Swallow my beeper and page myself so I can communicate
With a dolphin, lyrical arson rush the planet like a million martians Committin' arson, walkin' the tarpits in India
With snake charmers that place all the weight down

Yo, A+, fuck the nonsense I got the reinforcements
To crush any enemies offense with a hundred thousand Horsemen
And the hardest muthafucka on the market right here
I'll complete in a minute what would take you a light year
Extra-terrestrial biological entities with infinite energy
Battling for world supremacy, who wanna get touched, the Can-I-Bus
Will crush you with hard jigsaw puzzles and strong jaw muscles

Ambushin' emcees jumpin' out the trees like Vietnamese in fatigues
Covered with leaves, interrogatin' you wack emcees like MIB's
With dark glasses, askin' you to tell me exactly where that alien craft
Landed by flashing bright lights in your eyes with those silver gamas
So when you revive you can't recall or understand it
That's how the Canibus keeps tabs on the planet
I use amnesia to neutralize public panic
And take advantage of opportunities to do damage

I pierce your heart with evil thoughts
The only thing faster then tha speed of light is the speed of dark
With the jaws of a great white shark I rip you apart
My state-of-the art lyrical lasers is razor sharp
Splatter the brain matter of my enemies
With the same bullet trajectory that murdered John Kennedy
In the back of his cranial cavity which is actually
What happens to any motherfucker for tryin' to battle me

Eh yo from boyz 2 men, we're strictly Fam, no longer friends
Let's keep it thorough, I hold it down till it's on again
Until we meet again, yo I'm back up on the street again
I'm tryin' to take it, throw out my nine but pack the heat again
Eh yo from boyz 2 men, we're strictly Fam, no longer friends
Let's keep it thorough, I hold it down till it's on again
Until we meet again, yo I'm back up on the street again
I'm tryin' to take it, throw out my nine but pack the heat again

Eh yo from boyz 2 men, we're strictly Fam, no longer friends
Let's keep it thorough, I hold it down till it's on again
Until we meet again, yo I'm back up on the street again
I'm tryin' to take it, throw out my nine but pack the heat again
Eh yo from boyz 2 men, we're strictly Fam, no longer friends
Let's keep it thorough, I hold it down till it's on again
Until we meet again, yo I'm back up on the street again

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8adac2953ee7922d9f275b907861a4af

What'S Clef - Lyrics - Wyclef Jean

Title: What'S Clef
Artist: Wyclef Jean
Composer(s): Graham Hamilton Lyle, Terry Britten, Wyclef Nel Jean, Salaam Remi Gibbs

Lyric:
{If you'd like to make a call
Dial your operator
If you need help, try, try again
Try, try again}

I got it started to my face
I got it started to my face, right?
What you thought
There wasn't gonna be no retaliation?

Ha, ha, ha
You gotta be kiddin'
You call my name four times on a record?
Hey, hey

{If you need help
Try, try again, try again}

Yo, "Return of Jack the Ripper," what? Nigga please
I'ma push you further back than your hairline recedes
New York City, don't get it confused
Your song will last as long as your part in "Krush Groove"

Body moves, the battles, bullets, the lesson
You write about being a veteran but not a legend
Back from the war with thirty-two medals of honor
You claimin' underground but never been to Bobbito the Barber

Gimme them medals back, since you forgot how to rap
Call DJ Bobcat and ask him where them old records at
Like Channel Five karate, my kick is gonna reach ya
A new episode where the student kills the teacher

Any last words before I send you to your dream?
Hold my hands and pray

[Unverified]

You don't got knowledge yourself
So you don't know what that mean, aight?
Who supped you up to do the record
In the first place?

It lacked taste, you get "The Gas Face"
Like 3rd Bass
L.L. stands for Lickin' Lyor, or Lickin' Lichty
Lickin' Lyles, Lickin' Labels, lickin' they balls

Under the conference room table
When you hear this record, you bound to go AWOL
I worked too hard for this life is serious
This ain't bulls-eye, I ain't your target practice

So call Mr. Martin, I rarely kill often
But in this sound clash, I got a bodybuilder's coffin
Back from Miami where your record got no heat
That's why your Def Jam interns call it, "Battle of the Beats"
You're weak nigga

{If you need help, try, try again
Try again}

Yo, this my question
What's your question?

What's Clef got to do with this, got to do with this?
What's Clef?
I'm not a Bob Marley impostor
What's Clef got to do with this, got to do with this?
Tell your ghost writers, "Go write something better"

{If you need help, try, try again
Try again}

Guess who? Uh, oh, uh, oh
Here we go, oh, uh, oh
Every two records you do scenario
You get the best MCs, how? To rhyme first

Of course you rap last, so you can show off your skirt
I guess, it didn't work on, "4, 3, 2, 1"
You got out done by Canibus the young gun
Your last weapon is to call out Wyclef Jean

Not knowing that you callin' fire for your cremation
Jammin' and cool, sumpthin' like you

Jamaicans say, "L.L. a fool"
Kids wet too who do the pool
Let bells ring like Sunday school
L.L. Cool J is hard as hell?

So hard at night he's Jezebel
I heard the teller, Himmemel
How you think he wrote the song?
Rock the bells

Yo, Clef
I know you got styles but get back to the issue kid
This is real

Yo, don't get me angry, like the Hulk, I'll turn green
Your marriage is a cover up 'cause you use Vaseline
Fun love of hip-hop, these lyrics got you steamed
Knowing damn well that bad men don't wear G-strings

Another side of Clef, the face you won't seein' oppressed
I even got the Devil worshipers sayin', "God bless"
You star struck and I'ma buck you like Carlito
And when they say, "Who did it?," you tell them Benny Blanco

Wyclef, preacher's son, check the revelation
Polygram buy Def Jam for twenty million
MCA buy Polygram for eleven billion
I come to Sony and get pimped by the Haitian-Sicilians

And I'll even, get you an ad in, "The Source"
You'll be the first rapper selling products for hair loss
The W Y C L E F, Wyclef
The return of 'Jack the Ripper' was only to meet his death

The next time, you wanna dis me for kicks
Get off my dick, go somewhere and lick your lips, bitch
If you need help, try, try again, try again
Rest in peace

What's Clef got to do with this, got to do with this?
What's Clef?
I'm not a muscle man impostor
What's Clef got to do with this, got to do with this?

Watch what you ask for 'cause you just might get it
Yo, this is Naomi Campbell chillin' with Wyclef
I just wanna tell you L.L., your record is wack
L.L., why don't you just give up?

{If you need help, try, try again
Try again
If you need help, try, try again
Try, try again}

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2f46f45b615cf6c85bebc5cf18c4a306

2 Step - Lyrics - Destiny'S Child

Title: 2 Step
Artist: Destiny'S Child
Composer(s): Static Beyonce Knowles, Robert Waller, Kelendria T Rowland, Scott Storch, Michelle Williams

Lyric:
Uh, uh, oh
Uh, uh, oh
Uh, uh, uh, uh, oh

Uh, uh, oh
Uh, uh, oh
Uh, uh, uh, uh, oh

I'm feelin' way too cool tonight
Got my hat cocked to the right
I ain't tryin' to break a sweat, just slide
Back and forth, side to side

Back it up, I don't want to grind
Slow down and take your time
When I move my hips just right
Lead the way out of line

Fly girls, get your 2 step on
Pimps and players, get your 2 step on
All my G's, get your 2 step on
Sexy ladies, get your 2 step on

Pretty girls, get your 2 step on
Hustlers, get your 2 step on
All my thugs, get your 2 step on
Classy ladies, get your 2 step on

Lookin' way too fly tonight
Catchin' all them sneaky eyes
I can tell you fantasize
Starin' up and down my thighs

When I shake, ya dancin' right
I know it's just the way you like
Be a gentleman, act polite
Lead the way and I'll oblige

Fly girls, get your 2 step on
Pimps and players, get your 2 step on
All my G's, get your 2 step on
Sexy ladies, get your 2 step on

Pretty girls, get your 2 step on
Hustlers, get your 2 step on
All my thugs, get your 2 step on
Classy ladies, get your 2 step on

Uh, uh, oh
Uh, uh, oh
Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, oh

Such a crazy feeling
Let the music hypnotize you on the floor
As we dip and slide so cool, to the rhythm
Let the magic magic happen, sing along

Dressin' up, sexy people having fun
Shoes is new, don't scuff 'em up
Take your time and enjoy yourself

Fly girls, get your 2 step on
Pimps and players, get your 2 step on
All my G's, get your 2 step on
Sexy ladies, get your 2 step on

Pretty girls, get your 2 step on
Hustlers, get your 2 step on
All my thugs, get your 2 step on
Classy ladies, get your 2 step on

(Clap your hands)
Break it down, give it in
Side to side, back and forth, then do it again

(Clap your hands)
Break it down, give it in
Side to side, back and forth, then do it again

(Clap your hands)
Break it down, give it in
Side to side, back and forth, then do it again

(Clap your hands)
Break it down, give it in
Side to side, back and forth, then do it again

Fly girls, get your 2 step on
Pimps and players, get your 2 step on
All my G's, get your 2 step on
Sexy ladies, get your 2 step on

Pretty girls, get your 2 step on
Hustlers, get your 2 step on
All my thugs, get your 2 step on
Classy ladies, get your 2 step on

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2d2343badd9f9a4069ce474c7c9e0c2e

Two Step - Lyrics - Destiny'S Child

Title: Two Step
Artist: Destiny'S Child
Composer(s): Static Beyonce Knowles, Robert Waller, Kelendria T Rowland, Scott Storch, Michelle Williams

Lyric:
Uh, uh, oh
Uh, uh, oh
Uh, uh, uh, uh, oh

Uh, uh, oh
Uh, uh, oh
Uh, uh, uh, uh, oh

I'm feelin' way too cool tonight
Got my hat cocked to the right
I ain't tryin' to break a sweat, just slide
Back and forth, side to side

Back it up, I don't want to grind
Slow down and take your time
When I move my hips just right
Lead the way out of line

Fly girls, get your 2 step on
Pimps and players, get your 2 step on
All my G's, get your 2 step on
Sexy ladies, get your 2 step on

Pretty girls, get your 2 step on
Hustlers, get your 2 step on
All my thugs, get your 2 step on
Classy ladies, get your 2 step on

Lookin' way too fly tonight
Catchin' all them sneaky eyes
I can tell you fantasize
Starin' up and down my thighs

When I shake, ya dancin' right
I know it's just the way you like
Be a gentleman, act polite
Lead the way and I'll oblige

Fly girls, get your 2 step on
Pimps and players, get your 2 step on
All my G's, get your 2 step on
Sexy ladies, get your 2 step on

Pretty girls, get your 2 step on
Hustlers, get your 2 step on
All my thugs, get your 2 step on
Classy ladies, get your 2 step on

Uh, uh, oh
Uh, uh, oh
Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, oh

Such a crazy feeling
Let the music hypnotize you on the floor
As we dip and slide so cool, to the rhythm
Let the magic magic happen, sing along

Dressin' up, sexy people having fun
Shoes is new, don't scuff 'em up
Take your time and enjoy yourself

Fly girls, get your 2 step on
Pimps and players, get your 2 step on
All my G's, get your 2 step on
Sexy ladies, get your 2 step on

Pretty girls, get your 2 step on
Hustlers, get your 2 step on
All my thugs, get your 2 step on
Classy ladies, get your 2 step on

(Clap your hands)
Break it down, give it in
Side to side, back and forth, then do it again

(Clap your hands)
Break it down, give it in
Side to side, back and forth, then do it again

(Clap your hands)
Break it down, give it in
Side to side, back and forth, then do it again

(Clap your hands)
Break it down, give it in
Side to side, back and forth, then do it again

Fly girls, get your 2 step on
Pimps and players, get your 2 step on
All my G's, get your 2 step on
Sexy ladies, get your 2 step on

Pretty girls, get your 2 step on
Hustlers, get your 2 step on
All my thugs, get your 2 step on
Classy ladies, get your 2 step on

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6fe6a034f7cb3cb3194c72303d5f235c

Hot Potato - Lyrics - 19 Naughty III - Naughty By Nature

Title: Hot Potato
Album: 19 Naughty III
Artist: Naughty By Nature
Composer(s): Keir Gist, Vincent Brown, Anthony Criss

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

Lyric:
Mic check 1, 2, strap it up, load the beat, cock the mic
And your rhyme better be fat or you might have to fight
Yeah, there's no escape from the terror dome
You know I'm nice when I'm bustin' fat rhymes on the metronome

MC's never pass the mic to the Foxxx, 'cause
Once I bust a fat rhyme, you be a has was
I beat you down on stage and when the battle's over
You'll be leaving your show in a hearse nova

I'm flippin' the X's three times and I'm back again
See, on my way down stage they had me strapped in
But once I hit New York and they loosened the chains
I went and bought me a tec, now I'm wild, insane

I'm on a hunt for a rapper who wanna turn singer
I got my beat 'em down bat and a itchy finger
So if you're nice with the mic and you wanna flip
I'm the rap bounty hunter and it's time to get yo ass whipped

Yeah, I'm comin' from the streets, pop
And please fight back, so you can get dropped
It's time to see who's nice and who can really rap
I smack the taste out your mouth, you wanna be a mack
I'm not tryin' to shake the water and wake the gator
But I'ma pass the mic like a hot potato

1 potato, 2 potato, 3 potato, 4
1 potato, 2 potato, 3 potato, 4
1 potato, 2 potato, 3 potato, 4
1 potato, 2 potato, 3 potato, 4

You fly high, I heard your tape then flipped
The next side lookin' for the def side
You couldn't be alright if I erased your left side
Who's wet dried when Treach tried, next died
I'm gonna slide your wet wide, so step side

Any dull raps get the skull caps pulled back full breeze
Blastin' your ass back at full speed, hoes in flow, you know, bimbo
And won't stop prayin' and playin' until I'm layin' up in fo'
Nowhere to run, nowhere to go
I got a solid hip below the belt to make your nuts not grow

Here's to all crews that been wack
I got a thinkin' cap with raps I attached with a chin strap
Flash past your girl who's def in the flesh
Yes, you can't believe that she said, "Treach"

The wicked a wicked a wully bully, bad and fully and surely bad
Ready and Willy gettin' [Incomprehensible] glad
Dissed in Hell and fell in fire
I attack your back, force you to retire with a wet wire
Give you the whip appeal like Toby, listen, oldie but Goldie
Take the dough from all who owe me

1 potato, 2 potato, 3 potato, 4
1 potato, 2 potato, 3 potato, 4
1 potato, 2 potato, 3 potato, 4
1 potato, 2 potato, 3 potato, 4

If a rapper disrespect me I smack him in his mouth
I tow him in a yoke, grab him by his throat, boom, then I knock him out
I keep heat and keep the clips in my sock
When my glock get hot you punk niggas better leave the block

Yeah, Freddie Foxxx on a rampage
Every time I touch the mic the police is standin' front stage
'Cause I been labeled as a troublemaker
I send my baddest girl to your house to play the heart breaker

She'll lay you down and put hickeys on your chest
Then turn around and blast you with a 33 shot tec
You couldn't rap, you was wack from the get-go
So you got bumped off by my head hoe

Called by the militant mack, my mentality is jail
Long as I'm strapped I can't fail
Check this, I take the bass and I bust you in the eye with it
A piece of steel with a screen on top, I'm gettin' fly with it

I'm bringin' suckers to the street again
'Cause them same broke-ass niggas ridin' on my meat again
Mr. microphone flipped the beat again
Suckers got caught with the rhyme, felt the heat again

I'm breakin' it down, lettin' you know I'm never lettin' go
I beat your brother down, punk, just to let you know
This is hip-hop, gee, not 'hit pop'

You mess around with the beats, get your boots knocked
I'ma slide, I'm in her when I see you suckers later
As I pass the mic like a hot potato

Shrimps attempt to get pimped when playin' pimp, why?
Sleepin' with a limp eye, pass the hot potato
Treach done [Incomprehensible] chop to French Fries
Mad as a murder vet, man, it'll hurt a set

Well, to hell with you and your fat-O with the gurtle neck
So ol' gold digger, dig some dirt, there you have it
Want ring or a marriage, go get the carrot from a rabbit

Before I stab him for his lucky foot
Hit him with a puffy hook, hit the hare, now look how lucky looks
I'm not a chip on your shoulder, I'm a boulder on a path
Left a gash, you catch a headache in your ass

Class I'm disrespectin', I won't see you trippin', clown
When I do, you be trippin', slippin' and fallin' down
All's left to call cops when I smack you with a leather wig
And make you suckers suede bald spots

Chip-chop, flip the hip-hop, I chuckle
You couldn't knock boots with a muthafuckin' knuckle
It's on, what's more, talk and get a boo-boo from your jaw
It's easy as 1, 2, 3, 4

1 potato, 2 potato, 3 potato, 4
1 potato, 2 potato, 3 potato, 4
1 potato, 2 potato, 3 potato, 4
1 potato, 2 potato, 3 potato, 4

That's what I'm talkin' 'bout, word up, 4 potatoes, 4 verses
Some hard rough stuff for all those hungry MC's out there
You know what I'm sayin'? Yeah baby, nothin' commercial about this
The militant mack in the house and I got a right hand
For all that try to stand in my face and front
Believe that and I'm comin' straight from the streets, word up

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082ac4f87cf2094e9c266681e80527dc

2 Step (Remix) - Lyrics - Unk

Title: 2 Step (Remix)
Artist: Unk
Composer(s): Fernando Cluster, Kaelub Denson, Marcus Holland, Montay Desmond Humphrey, Anthony Platt, Korey Roberson, Fard Ramadan Shahid, Howard M Simmons

Lyric:
4, 3, 2-2-2
A 2 step, a 2 step

Now gon? an? 2 step, now gon? an? 2 step
Now gon? an? 2 step, now gon? an? 2 step
Now get jiggy wit it, now get jiggy wit it
Now get jiggy wit it, now get jiggy wit it

Now gon? an? 2 step, ay watch me 2 step
Now can you 2 step like I 2 step?
Watch me get jiggy wit it, watch me get jiggy wit it
Watch me get jiggy wit it, watch me get jiggy wit it
Gon? an? 2 step!

I hit the club fresh my stunna shades on
2 steppin? gettin' jiggy wit my J's on
Don?t get yo' steps wrong don?t try to bite mine
2 steppin?, yeah I?m back, Unk one mo' time

See we gon? form a line and we gon? step it right
Now step it to the left, girl you know you dynamite
Now have some good times, I see you got it right
Beat my wrist ice colder than a Bud Light

Now I?ma take my time, where the gangstas at?
And you can still post the wall, ***** holla back
Grey Goose and yak, ***** filled wit kush
I?m getting jiggy wit it smokin? on that George Bush
Step!

4, 3, 2-2-2
A 2 step, a 2 step

Now gon? an? 2 step, now gon? an? 2 step
Now gon? an? 2 step, now gon? an? 2 step
Now get jiggy wit it, now get jiggy wit it
Now get jiggy wit it, now get jiggy wit it

Now gon? an? 2 step, ay watch me 2 step
Now can you 2 step like I 2 step?
Watch me get jiggy wit it, watch me get jiggy wit it
Watch me get jiggy wit it, watch me get jiggy wit it
Gon? an? 2 step!

Now take 2 steps to the left
Now take 2 steps to the right
Now bring it back, bring it back
Hey I made y'all walk it out
Everybody 2 steppin? now we finna turn it out

Now here we go again, you already slow
If you ain?t 2 steppin? get your sh**and hit the do'
I?m shootin? at ya toes like a western
I see you baby girl sweatin' out your lil? perm

They call me Big Worm, where my money at?
2 steppin? wit my stacks ***** holla back
The O.C. is back y'all best to deal wit it
And don?t be steppin? on my shoes when I get jiggy wit it

4, 3, 2-2-2
A 2 step, a 2 step

Now gon? an? 2 step, now gon? an? 2 step
Now gon? an? 2 step, now gon? an? 2 step
Now get jiggy wit it, now get jiggy wit it
Now get jiggy wit it, now get jiggy wit it

Now gon? an? 2 step, ay watch me 2 step
Now can you 2 step like I 2 step?
Watch me get jiggy wit it, watch me get jiggy wit it
Watch me get jiggy wit it, watch me get jiggy wit it
Gon? an? 2 step!

A 2 step, a 2 step
A 2 step, a 2 step
A 2 step, a 2 step
A 2 step, a 2 step
Gon' an' 2 step!

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e5fe3cbaa107c664daca014ac14b2ba8

2 Step - Lyrics - Beat'n Down Yo Block - Unk

Title: 2 Step
Album: Beat'n Down Yo Block
Artist: Unk
Composer(s): Fernando Cluster, Kaelub Denson, Marcus Holland, Montay Desmond Humphrey, Anthony Platt, Korey Roberson, Fard Ramadan Shahid, Howard M Simmons

Lyric:
4, 3, 2-2-2
A 2 step, a 2 step

Now gon? an? 2 step, now gon? an? 2 step
Now gon? an? 2 step, now gon? an? 2 step
Now get jiggy wit it, now get jiggy wit it
Now get jiggy wit it, now get jiggy wit it

Now gon? an? 2 step, ay watch me 2 step
Now can you 2 step like I 2 step?
Watch me get jiggy wit it, watch me get jiggy wit it
Watch me get jiggy wit it, watch me get jiggy wit it
Gon? an? 2 step!

I hit the club fresh my stunna shades on
2 steppin? gettin' jiggy wit my J's on
Don?t get yo' steps wrong don?t try to bite mine
2 steppin?, yeah I?m back, Unk one mo' time

See we gon? form a line and we gon? step it right
Now step it to the left, girl you know you dynamite
Now have some good times, I see you got it right
Beat my wrist ice colder than a Bud Light

Now I?ma take my time, where the gangstas at?
And you can still post the wall, ***** holla back
Grey Goose and yak, ***** filled wit kush
I?m getting jiggy wit it smokin? on that George Bush
Step!

4, 3, 2-2-2
A 2 step, a 2 step

Now gon? an? 2 step, now gon? an? 2 step
Now gon? an? 2 step, now gon? an? 2 step
Now get jiggy wit it, now get jiggy wit it
Now get jiggy wit it, now get jiggy wit it

Now gon? an? 2 step, ay watch me 2 step
Now can you 2 step like I 2 step?
Watch me get jiggy wit it, watch me get jiggy wit it
Watch me get jiggy wit it, watch me get jiggy wit it
Gon? an? 2 step!

Now take 2 steps to the left
Now take 2 steps to the right
Now bring it back, bring it back
Hey I made y'all walk it out
Everybody 2 steppin? now we finna turn it out

Now here we go again, you already slow
If you ain?t 2 steppin? get your sh**and hit the do'
I?m shootin? at ya toes like a western
I see you baby girl sweatin' out your lil? perm

They call me Big Worm, where my money at?
2 steppin? wit my stacks ***** holla back
The O.C. is back y'all best to deal wit it
And don?t be steppin? on my shoes when I get jiggy wit it

4, 3, 2-2-2
A 2 step, a 2 step

Now gon? an? 2 step, now gon? an? 2 step
Now gon? an? 2 step, now gon? an? 2 step
Now get jiggy wit it, now get jiggy wit it
Now get jiggy wit it, now get jiggy wit it

Now gon? an? 2 step, ay watch me 2 step
Now can you 2 step like I 2 step?
Watch me get jiggy wit it, watch me get jiggy wit it
Watch me get jiggy wit it, watch me get jiggy wit it
Gon? an? 2 step!

A 2 step, a 2 step
A 2 step, a 2 step
A 2 step, a 2 step
A 2 step, a 2 step
Gon' an' 2 step!

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2a7dd7b253f1a05744d2343010af4e64

Compton 2 Fillmoe - Lyrics - Game

Title: Compton 2 Fillmoe
Artist: Game
Composer(s): Joseph Tom, Jayceon Taylor

Lyric:
Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay, our chains hang, L.A. they can't bang
Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In L.A. they havin' problems, the Bay we pop collars

Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay we pop hollows, L.A. they pop hollows
Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay we pop bottles, L.A. they pop bottles

They can't cop what the bricks'll cost
But we stay in the lane to maintain in the 6 to floss
Leather gloves with the tips to toss
But the money was made from conversation had to clip the boss

Smash down at the V.I.P.
Street smarts is crucial for young niggaz in the CX-3
Drop Jag with the price to pay
'Cause the bags was heavy my chain swangin' like a ice capade

Got the feds lookin' twice this way
'Cause we shuffle the P's in different places that the [unverified] name
Compton to Fillmoe man the game is real
When you turn 15 get your stainless steel

Whole squad been trained to kill, we official
And switch to get rich now we after the meals
Hard times got cakes for 3
When it's havin' a bundle we break bread for the safe and flee nigga

Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay, our chains hang, L.A. they can't bang
Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In L.A. they havin' problems, the Bay we pop collars

Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay we pop hollows, L.A. they pop hollows
Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay we pop bottles, L.A. they pop bottles

I got guns, guns, guns, guns, guns all over the club
We in V.I.P. strapped, security know that
25 deep, guns up under the throwback
That new R. Kelly shit sound like Bobby Womack

Black Wall Street in HURR, nigga where the hoes at
We got sour diesel, three cases of Hypnotiq
And more guns than the Nickerson Projects
Niggaz don't want beef with me
'Cause they know they gotta pay for talkin' shit but the sheets is free

And ain't nuttin' to shoot the club up
You don't want drama in this motherfucker throw them dubs up
Jacob got the wrists on chill
And N.W.A. chain glow like the memory of Ill Will
Relax your mind and let your drawers feel free
You're now rollin' to the sound of the Game and JT

Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay, our chains hang, L.A. they can't bang
Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In L.A. they havin' problems, the Bay we pop collars

Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay we pop hollows, L.A. they pop hollows
Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay we pop bottles, L.A. they pop bottles

But you can't come with the rest of her friends
Cause you know I'm a boss and won't play cause she short on my ends
Make rounds from the back of the Benz
With the [unverified] that kid with frog eyes with the corners to bend

The things we go through I'm beatin' ya brains
Got some homies next do' and I picked up the Game
While they knockin' on the do' I get deep in ya dame
Gotta charge you a G just for speakin' my name

I'm not eatin' your chocha or payin' for the coach ma
I'm a pimp like 50, the nigga to leave you broke ma
6 in the mornin', you stretchin' on the sofa
Singin', "Ain't No Nigga" like Foxy Brown and Hova

I fuck 'em dogstyle with Billys and Novas
With or without chaffeurs, I make 'em fuck the both of us
You know what it is, the gangster's back
And I keep my banger at where my chain hang at
I'm ghetto

Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay, our chains hang, L.A. they can't bang
Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In L.A. they havin' problems, the Bay we pop collars

Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay we pop hollows, L.A. they pop hollows
Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay we pop bottles, L.A. they pop bottles

Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay, our chains hang, L.A. they can't bang
Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In L.A. they havin' problems, the Bay we pop collars

Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay we pop hollows, L.A. they pop hollows
Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay we pop bottles, L.A. they pop bottles

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6ef95a6d2fe5f81177ad151f4a850adb

Compton 2 Fillmore - Lyrics - Game

Title: Compton 2 Fillmore
Artist: Game
Composer(s): Joseph Tom, Jayceon Taylor

Lyric:
Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay, our chains hang, L.A. they can't bang
Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In L.A. they havin' problems, the Bay we pop collars

Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay we pop hollows, L.A. they pop hollows
Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay we pop bottles, L.A. they pop bottles

They can't cop what the bricks'll cost
But we stay in the lane to maintain in the 6 to floss
Leather gloves with the tips to toss
But the money was made from conversation had to clip the boss

Smash down at the V.I.P.
Street smarts is crucial for young niggaz in the CX-3
Drop Jag with the price to pay
'Cause the bags was heavy my chain swangin' like a ice capade

Got the feds lookin' twice this way
'Cause we shuffle the P's in different places that the [unverified] name
Compton to Fillmoe man the game is real
When you turn 15 get your stainless steel

Whole squad been trained to kill, we official
And switch to get rich now we after the meals
Hard times got cakes for 3
When it's havin' a bundle we break bread for the safe and flee nigga

Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay, our chains hang, L.A. they can't bang
Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In L.A. they havin' problems, the Bay we pop collars

Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay we pop hollows, L.A. they pop hollows
Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay we pop bottles, L.A. they pop bottles

I got guns, guns, guns, guns, guns all over the club
We in V.I.P. strapped, security know that
25 deep, guns up under the throwback
That new R. Kelly shit sound like Bobby Womack

Black Wall Street in HURR, nigga where the hoes at
We got sour diesel, three cases of Hypnotiq
And more guns than the Nickerson Projects
Niggaz don't want beef with me
'Cause they know they gotta pay for talkin' shit but the sheets is free

And ain't nuttin' to shoot the club up
You don't want drama in this motherfucker throw them dubs up
Jacob got the wrists on chill
And N.W.A. chain glow like the memory of Ill Will
Relax your mind and let your drawers feel free
You're now rollin' to the sound of the Game and JT

Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay, our chains hang, L.A. they can't bang
Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In L.A. they havin' problems, the Bay we pop collars

Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay we pop hollows, L.A. they pop hollows
Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay we pop bottles, L.A. they pop bottles

But you can't come with the rest of her friends
Cause you know I'm a boss and won't play cause she short on my ends
Make rounds from the back of the Benz
With the [unverified] that kid with frog eyes with the corners to bend

The things we go through I'm beatin' ya brains
Got some homies next do' and I picked up the Game
While they knockin' on the do' I get deep in ya dame
Gotta charge you a G just for speakin' my name

I'm not eatin' your chocha or payin' for the coach ma
I'm a pimp like 50, the nigga to leave you broke ma
6 in the mornin', you stretchin' on the sofa
Singin', "Ain't No Nigga" like Foxy Brown and Hova

I fuck 'em dogstyle with Billys and Novas
With or without chaffeurs, I make 'em fuck the both of us
You know what it is, the gangster's back
And I keep my banger at where my chain hang at
I'm ghetto

Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay, our chains hang, L.A. they can't bang
Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In L.A. they havin' problems, the Bay we pop collars

Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay we pop hollows, L.A. they pop hollows
Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay we pop bottles, L.A. they pop bottles

Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay, our chains hang, L.A. they can't bang
Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In L.A. they havin' problems, the Bay we pop collars

Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay we pop hollows, L.A. they pop hollows
Compton to Fillmore here we go again
In the Bay we pop bottles, L.A. they pop bottles

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11378693ef53b13688cc31ef7e5c602e

Drop A Gem On Em - Lyrics - Hell On Earth - Mobb Deep

Title: Drop A Gem On Em
Album: Hell On Earth
Artist: Mobb Deep
Composer(s): Albert Johnson, Kejuan Waliek Muchita

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

Lyric:
It's the infamous back in the house once again
Livin' the life that of diamonds and guns and now gems pulls
Gats like a base head, pulls on stems the Mobb got the bomb
Run out and tell a friend drop a gem on 'em

Take a tire, all these fake crooks need to retire
They gotcha gassed, takin' back and snatch fire outcha maggot ass
Havoc represent for the Q B C
Smoke that ass like a lucie, though I need to quit

Fuck it, I love it like a cloud
Over the projects your game I'm above it
Its combat, gats bangers and all that
You'se a small cat, whatever you on get off that

I mention, nuthin' but the real shit presentin'
The hollow tip crew 41st side convention try for?
You half-steppin like a fresh tec out of the box
Yo niggas I'm testin'
(There's no question)

Bitch ass have you confessin'
Like a D T left in state of depression
You under pressure, intact no doubt catcher
The snitch-snatcher tookin' wit asthma
You Casper, you yell my name

That's only givin' me props
Plus the fans that you got, wonderin' what's got you hot
It's too not, knocked out the box and got rocked
Got raped on the island, you officially got kick that thug shit
Vibe magazine on some love shit
(Keep it real kid, you don't know who you fuckin' wit)

It's the infamous back in the house once again
Livin' the life that of diamonds and guns and now gems pulls
Gats like a base head, pulls on stems the Mobb got the bomb
Run out and tell a friend drop a gem on 'em

It's the infamous back in the house once again
Livin' the life that of diamonds and guns and now gems pulls
Gats like a base head, pulls on stems the Mobb got the bomb
Run out and tell a friend drop a gem on 'em

Yeah likewise, I'm tired of rap guys whose faggots
Pure shuteye and swole up your whole outside
I baptize, niggas get wet, put up your backside
You're claptized and set straight, put on your head straight

Watch out for, these upstate cats be leary of you
Yeddy niggas wit gats plus the walls on they backs
Rikers island flashback of the house you got scuffed it in
You would think you gettin' your head shot was enough but then

Now you wanna got at my team
You must of been drunk when you wrote that shit
Too bad you had to did it to your own self
My rebellion, I retaliate, I had the whole New York state

Aimin at your face at the gate
Bottom line of top soon as you came through
Shot through, don't even know the half of my crew
I got a hundred strong arm niggas ready to rock the shit
Clocks tick, your days are numbered in low digits

You look suspicious, suspect niggas is bitches
Get chopped up, grade A meat, somethin' delicious
And laced back up, 2 G's, one for stitches
Then reconstruct your face and learn how to speak again

My Mobb's like a bunch of wild Puerto Ricans
Wit bangers the size of African spears
It's warfare in the arena, you turn arenas into house of horrors
It's terrodome, when you see my click you need to run behind shit
You gotta gat you betta find it

And use that shit think fast and get reminded
Of robberies in Manhattan you knew what happened
60 g's and one for gun clappin'
Who Shot Ya? You'd probably scream louder than an opera

New York gotcha, now you wanna use my mob as a crutch
What makes you think you can't get bucked again
Once again, back in the house once again

Live the life that of diamonds and guns
And now gems pull gats like a basehead pull on stems
The Mobb got the bomb run out and tell a friend
It's the Infamous

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aa243ef29e16820041a5a3e475c54f0f

Z - Do It Again - Lyrics - Vol. 3... Life and Times of S. Carter - Jay

Title: Z - Do It Again
Album: Vol. 3... Life and Times of S. Carter
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Shawn Carter, Kyambo Joshua, Dwight Grant, Dana Stinson

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

Lyric:
Roc-a-fella, y'all know what this is
We givin' y'all five seconds to put your drink down
And report to the dance floor immediately
All the bustas we givin' y'all five seconds to get close to a exit
It's about to get real ugly in here
Five seconds is up, let's go

Throw the hands up
Throw the hands up, niggaz
Throw the hands up, bitches
Throw the hands up, bustas
Throw the hands up, hustlers
Throw the hands up, whores
Throw the hands up, busters
Throw the hands up, Mac

You know how Mac come through on the club tip
Everybody real deep on that thug shit
Cop Cris' spray the club on that thug shit
Cop frisks suits snub in the club quick
Told y'all real high, when I come you can try
If you want, you can die, if you want to
We hittin' whores on the floor, whole crew be wild
Bitch, back that ass up like Juvenile
When my peeps come to spend a dime apiece

You know Mac come through with a line of freaks
Every bitch on the hit be a 9 at least
We gettin' head on the floor, while you grindin' freaks
Whole squad get it down like this
Whole squad buyin' rounds of Cris'
Whole squad got they crowns on wrist
Whole squad got a pound of twist
Whole squad got a pound to spit, case a clown wanna flip

Mac never slip in the club, told y'all niggaz four-fifth in the club
If a nigga wanna draw then the blood it can drip in the club
You know how niggaz get in the club
Shit you know how I be, all high in V.I.P. rollin' up to B.I.G.
Niggaz be all liquored up, talkin' shit
'Til they man gotta come and pick 'em up
Got bitches in the back bouncin' to, jigga what
You got your hands up and I ain't even stick y'all up

Everybody get it up
Throw the hands up
Everybody get it up
Throw the hands up

12 A.M. on the way to the club
1 A.M. DJ made it erupt
2 A.M. now I'm gettin' with her
3 A.M. now I'm splittin' with her
4 A.M. at the waffle house
5 A.M. now we at my house
6 A.M. I be diggin' her out
6:15 I be kickin' her out
7 A.M. I'm a call my friends
12 A.M. we gon' do it again
We gon', we gon', we gon' do it again

By the way, yo
How the fuck you gon' talk about M C's on our heel?
When we just cop them things homie the chromey wheels
Both arms are chunky the sleeves on chill
Any given times 100 G's in your grill
Don't talk to me 'bout MC's got skills
"He's alright, but he's not real"
Jay-Z's that deal, with seeds in a field
Never fear for war, hug, squeeze that steel

Fuck, you gotta a flow that's cool with me
You got a little dough that cool with me
You got a little cars, little jewelries
But none of y'all motherfuckers could fool with me
You know the wrist frostbit minus two degrees
'Bout as blue as the sea the way I maneuver the V
Hat cocked can't see his eyes, who could it be?
With that new blue Yankee on, who but me?

Niggaz shipped two million, then I blew the three
Then I skated the four, 'fore I went on tour
I came back and it's plain, y'all niggaz ain't rappin' the same
Fuck the flow, y'all jackin' our slang
I seen the same shit happen to Kane
Three cuts in your eyebrows tryin' to wild out
The game is ours, we'll never foul out
Y'all just better hope we gracefully bow out
Throw yo' hands up, niggaz, bitches, bustas
Hustlers, fuck that

12 AM on the way to the club
1 A.M. 'bout to shake the butt
2 A.M. now I'm checkin' the mix
3 A.M. now he buyin' me drinks
4 A.M. exit the club
5 A.M. think he gettin' some butt
6 A.M. nigga still ain't bust
6:15 nigga will get up
7 A.M. gotta tell my friends
12 A.M. I'm a do it again, uh, uh
I'm, I'm, I'm a do it again
12 A.M. I'm a do it again, let's go

12 A.M. on the way to the club,
1 A.M. DJ made it a rub
2 A.M. now I'm gettin' with her
3 A.M. now I'm splittin' with her
4 A.M. at the waffle house
5 A.M. now we at my house
6 A.M. I be diggin' her out
6:15 I be kickin' her out
7 A.M. I'm a call my friends
12 A.M. we gon' do it again
We gon', we gon', we gon' do it again
Let's go

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90e9a2d061f2229fb9028539b6a2e1ba

Safe 2 Say (Incredible) - Lyrics - All or Nothing - Fat Joe

Title: Safe 2 Say (Incredible)
Album: All or Nothing
Artist: Fat Joe
Composer(s): Eric Sadler, Joseph Cartagena, Carlton Ridenhour, Hank Shocklee, Jr., George Clinton, Justin Smith

Lyric:
Just Blaze, you a rebel
On this beat nigga, uh
Once again back is the incredible
The incredible

Stop the presses, I'm back, cook Coke, that is
Crack, ain't been gone before a week
And still the fiends line up for blocks till it ain't no space
Pile high to the top of the Empire State

Crack once again so you know it
Ain't been this much hype since that Nas and that Hov shit
Coke spit, the fo' fifth chrome spit
Doe getter since I was small, no better than yours

Truly just check the suicide doors
Thirty inch grill and that black mink floor
Lookin' back I did the shit to death
I guess I ain't killin' it this rhyme, I'm here to raise the dead

I'm here to raise the stakes this time it's ten mill
Supply the sink ill, ship five and then build
And I'm Joe Crack, BX finest
Do rewind this Terror Squad behind this

I got the streets on smash
Niggaz on the corner watching me roll past
The bitches they all gasp saying
Once again, back is the incredible
Damn right
(The incredible, the incredible)

I got the heat on blast
Love the seats reclining on that mean G4
'Cause down in New York they saying
Once again, back is the incredible
Damn right
(The incredible, the incredible)

Dope man, dope man, I got that coke man
Brother Joe, man the king of the streets
TS, we incredibly credible like Stun said
It was inevitable the metal was 'gon bump heads

And you know that K go chop, chop, chop
In broad daylight right in front of the One Stop Shop
I'm from Misery Boulevard, right across the street
From I Hope You Die Place, in school, study the crime rate

That's when it became apparent to me
That the pimps and hustlers be apparent to me
I plead innocent your honor
I'm just a product of the streets, product of some beef

Product of that Cappadonna Armani three piece
Problem is when I win, my team eats
But wait, just think the opposite of that
You'll be starin' down the opposite side of them gats, nigga

I got the streets on smash
Niggaz on the corner watching me roll past
The bitches they all gasp saying
Once again, back is the incredible
Damn right
(The incredible, the incredible)

I got the heat on blast
Love the seats reclining on that mean G4
'Cause down in New York they saying
Once again, back is the incredible
Damn right
(The incredible, the incredible)

Yo, now have you ever felt the metal to your melon, it just cock back?
Ask for the money and drugs, and you ain't got that
Where the cops at? Prayin' that they comin'
Just a few seconds your brains be layin' on your stomach

On my waist you know I got keep that oven
For ya ginger bread pie ass niggaz
The heat's running on high, Joe Crack I
Bake the cake and serve you niggaz humble pie

I got the streets on smash
Niggaz on the corner watching me roll past
The bitches they all gasp saying
Once again, back is the incredible
Damn right
(The incredible, the incredible)

I got the heat on blast
Love the seats reclining on that mean G4
'Cause down in New York they saying
Once again, back is the incredible
The incredible, the incredible

Yeah, Cook, just Blaze
You a rebel on this beat nigga
Cool & Dre, LV, Street Runner, Pete Novacaine
Khalid, Khalid Khalid Khalid Khalid, New York

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Check It Out Y'All [Freestyle Rappin'] - Lyrics - 2 Live Crew Is What We Are - 2 Live Crew

Title: Check It Out Y'All [Freestyle Rappin']
Album: 2 Live Crew Is What We Are
Artist: 2 Live Crew
Composer(s): Luther Campbell, David Hobbs, Mark Ross, Christopher Wong Won

Lyric:
Check it out ya'll, ch-ch-check it out ya'll
2-2 Live Crew, 2 li-2 li-2 li-2 Live Crew
Fresh-fresh-fresh Kid Ice, tre-tre-Treach Dee Jay
Bro-brother Marquis, bus-bust a rhyme

Extra, extra, hear all the bad news
About the wacky-wack MCs and the ones like you
Because I've done everything that you have tried
And I've been accepted where you've been denied

I'm the M A R, the Q U I S
Here to run down a rhyme at your request
I'm the New York born, who's sharp as a thorn
I came here tonight just to get it on

So listen up close and listen up well
'Cause the Brother Marquis has a story to tell
This is a story about an MC
Who got real brave and challenged me

He thought that he was bad, he thought he was tough
Until I, what, until I called his bluff
And as the battle began, his rhymes got weaker
You couldn't even hear his voice come out the speaker

And as he started to get ignored
The party people turned and walked off the floor
They did not applaud and they did not cheer
And homeboys just said, "Get the fuck outta here"

So as I cracked a smile and started to laugh
I could see the sucka duck muthafucka gettin' mad
He had a frown on his face, he was hotter than fire
He wasn't competition but just a little biter

So, as he turned and walked away
With his head to the ground and nothin' to say
'Cause he was busted, disgusted, and couldn't be trusted
He tried to battle me and found self-destruction

2 Live Crew, 2 li-2 li-2 Live Crew
Bus-bust a rhyme, bus-bust a rhyme
Bus-bust a rhyme, Fresh-fresh Kid Ice

I've been rhymin' and designin', and always tryin'
Our beats are always strong, and never dyin'
The lyrics I recite, I say with power
So step aside or get devoured

I won't say I'm sorry 'cause I don't want glory
Gonna stimulate this party, so don't you worry
Bustin' all fresh rhymes, don't need to diss
'Cause I'm known at parties as a catalyst

Gonna make you all dance, keep ya body in motion
'Cause anything I do, I get an ovation
The compliments I get never cease to end
'Cause I say what I want and I never bend

To any silly shit that you got to say
But to hear me rap, ya gotta pay
'Cause you heard it before and it ain't no lie
That 2 Live music will never die

Check it out ya'll, ch-ch-check it out ya'll, ch-ch-check it out ya'll
Check it out ya'll, ch-ch-check it out ya'll
2-2 Live Crew, 2 li-2 li-2 Live Crew
Bus-bust a rhyme, Bro-brother Marquis, Bro-brother Marquis
Bust a rhyme, bus-bust a rhyme

I met this girl named Kisha, the daughter of a preacher
I met her in school and we did it on the bleachers
The kids were in gym as I went for a swim
I rocked her so good until she wanted it again

That was jet-set, so soft and wet
Now Kisha's on my tip, and that you can bet
Until one day I got caught in the act
With my girl named Melissa from a few days back

Kisha done called me up and asked me to explain
She said I played with her heart like it was a game
She said, "Why?", I couldn't deny
She said, "Don't lie", then she started to cry
But Kisha was yearnin' to be de-virgined
She told her father, and he preached her a sermon

Ch-ch-check it out ya'll, ch-ch-check it out ya'll
Check it, check it out, check it, check it, check it out ya'll
Bus-bust a rhyme, Fre-fresh Kid Ice, bus-bust a rhyme

My name is Kid Ice, Gemini is my sign
From the time I started rappin', your title was mine
I started in the west, brought back to the east
Got about my man Luke who unleashed the beast

In me, for oh so long, I was put down
Forced by others to listen to their sound
'Til the time has come as I proclaim to you
All you sucka duck rappers, your era is through

You call yourselves kings, that is only a dream
You need style and ability to make a team
So ya better come hard, and come correct
'Cause every weak rhyme ya bring, I will reject

So go back home and learn to write
But don't come back 'til ya say it right
So while you're still there lookin' stupid in the face
Ya better get lost with ya pat-pat bass

Ch-ch-check it out ya'll, ch-ch-check it out ya'll
Check it-check it out, check it-check it out
Check it-check it-check it out-check it out
Check it-check it out ya'll

Tre-treach Dee Jay, check it out ya'll, Tre-treach Dee Jay
Check it-check it-check it out
Tre-treach Dee Jay, Tre-treach Dee Jay, Treach Dee Jay
Check it out-check it out ya'll

Aw yeah, aw yeah, aw yeah
Aw yeah, aw yeah, aw yeah, aw yeah

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