Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Gotta Be A Sin. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Gotta Be A Sin. Sort by date Show all posts

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Gotta Be A Sin - Lyrics - Adam And The Ants

Title: Gotta Be A Sin
Artist: Adam And The Ants
Composer(s): Adam Ant, Marco Pirroni, Martin James Boorer

Lyric:
It's burning holes into my heart
To leave that face so tenderly
I know that I can't stop the pain
But oh, the pain cannot stop me

Into a heart, so lost and broken
An angel seized the pain
Swallow her breath, hold her to my chest
I feel so warm in love again

R tight from the firstime, I made love with you
I had nothing in life to compare that moment to
But it's gotta be a sin
Gotta be a sin
Gotta be a sin
Yeah, it's gotta be a sin
Gotta be a sin
Gotta be a sin

I wanna wake up really early
Want the first thing that I see
To be your eyes still softly closed
And your lips waiting patiently

I know the saddest sight in this world
Is you climbing out of bed
Vision you are clipping on that bra
Maybe we'll stay in bed instead

Right from the first time, I made love with you
I had nothing in life to compare that moment to
But it's gotta be a sin
Gotta be a sin
Gotta be a sin
Yeah, it's gotta be a sin
Gotta be a sin
It's gotta be a sin

'Cos nothing, oh nothing
That feels that good can be street legal
Nothing, oh nothing, oh
That feels that good has ever happened to me now

Just holding your hand is like making love
Just standing next to you is like making love
So let's tie our shirts together and rig up a sail
Just want to do the things that we did before
Oh, some more so

But it's gotta be a sin
Gotta be a sin
Gotta be a sin
Yeah, it's gotta be a sin
Gotta be a sin
It's gotta be a sin

Oh it's gotta be a sin
Gotta be a sin
It's gotta be a sin
Oh, it's gotta be a sin
Gotta be a sin
Gotta be a sin

It's gotta be a sin
It's gotta be a sin

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cce05ca8a85b629c01a3f6dbb514f4fb

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Somebody - Lyrics - Kristyles - Krs One

Title: Somebody
Album: Kristyles
Artist: Krs One
Composer(s): W Dewgarde, Kris Parker

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Lyric:
Oh, do it now, oh, do it now
Yeah, we celebrate diversity in the university
Everybody can't be a queen, everybody can't be a ho and a bitch
(Ha ha)

Everybody can't be a philosopher
Some of y'all gotta load up the clip
Word up, watch this

It goes 1, 2, 3 we the best
Knowledge Reigns Supreme, as you can see, or KRS
You don't wanna test the team, why get a vest
You don't wanna be cursed in a verse, by the blessed

KRS with the sound for the eat and the west
Follow no, follow no, follow no, follow no beast on a quest

Somebody gotta be fresh
Somebody gotta be wack
Somebody gotta be the MC
Somebody gotta do the rap

Somebody gotta be smart
Somebody gotta do that
Somebody gotta do art
Somebody gotta be black

Somebody gotta have heart
Somebody gotta be white
Somebody gotta do their part
Somebody gotta be bright

Somebody gotta be up
somebody gotta be down
Somebody gotta be the teacher
Somebody gotta be the clown

Somebody gotta be lost
Somebody gotta be found
Somebody gotta be in the economy making the money go round
Somebody gotta be the president

Somebody gotta get down
Somebody gotta be hesitant
Somebody gotta be relevant
Somebody gotta be celibate

Somebody gotta be having their sex in a lex for the hell of it
Somebody gotta be intelligent
Somebody gotta be illiterate
Somebody gotta go all the way

Somebody gotta go a little bit
Somebody got to be an idiot
Somebody gotta be belligerent
Somebody gotta be hip hop

'Cause somebody else is living it
Somebody gotta be spitting it
Somebody gotta be ignorant
Somebody gotta be holy

But somebody gotta have sin in it
Somebody gotta be losing it
Somebody gotta be winning it
Somebody gotta be flippin' the style I'm kicking just a little bit

Somebody gotta be into it
Somebody gotta be out of it
Somebody gotta be up for it
Somebody gotta be doubtin' it

Somebody gotta be running it
Somebody gotta be all that
Somebody don't even known that
Somebody gotta come right here

Somebody else gotta go back
Somebody gotta be scheming
Somebody gotta be a witness
Somebody gotta be seeing in the meaning is different

Somebody else gotta be somebody
For some else to be somebody
Somebody else to run into to wealth
To try to create one body

One aim, one God, one destiny
I'm not non-violent, you can back up off of me
I sip my tea, and cock back three
One for Tiny Tim, Mr. Walt, and Evil Dee

I hope you all see, the need for unity
I'll never stop speaking about Marcus Garvey
Kwame Ture or Malcolm X all day
Black leadership today is all play

Y'all play, y'all immature black behavior
Is worse than being a trader
Do on to others
As you would have done do to your neighbor

Big up to my philosophy majors
Free Mumia Abu-Jamal from the cages
We writes the pages and teach all ages
Justice, tell me what we want now

Justice, for Mumia Abu-Jamal
Or justice for Amado Dialo
Justice, there is no peace without
(Justice)
All dem mercy, now watch this

I sing, 1, 2, 3 we the best
Knowledge Reigns Supreme, as you can see, or KRS
You don't wanna test the team, why get a vest
You don't wanna be cursed in a verse, by the blessed

KRS with the new sound for the eat and the west
Follow no, follow no, follow no, follow no beast on a quest
Follow no, follow no, follow no, follow no beast on a quest
Follow no, follow no, follow no, follow no beast on a quest
Follow no, follow no, follow no, follow no, follow no
Follow no, follow no, follow no

Follow no beast, on a quest
Do you hear me?
Follow no beast, on a quest
Word

Hip Hop ya don't stop
Tiny Tim ya don't stop
KRS ya don't stop
Get by us

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951fe4d2cb148db2e5e9dc2a0a0c778a

Friday, August 6, 2010

Somebody'S Gotta Do It - Lyrics - The Roots

Title: Somebody'S Gotta Do It
Artist: The Roots
Composer(s): Tarik L Collins, Ibrahim Douglas, Tahir Jamal, Karl Jenkins, Floyd Carson, Gray, Leonard Hubbard

Lyric:
Somebody's gotta be there when it gets ugly
Somebody's gotta be there when it gets bloody
Somebody's gotta get their hands dirty
Yo, it's a fucked up job but somebody's gotta do it

Somebody's gotta come up with a plan
And be there when the shit hits the fan
I hope ya'll out there understand
Look man it's a fucked up job, but somebody's gotta do it

Yeah ya'll, ideal for a lyrical perfectionist
Raw, that's what every soldier in my collective is
Thought, control level is that of a gold medalist
My level headedness make it come off so effortless

The rebel is a opposite extreme of devilish
Back setting it with the answer to your deficit
My track record is hot shit, consecutive
Smug, I got game just like a record executive

A kiss to the feminine girls loving a gentlemen
A genius slash gangsta with a skill for swindling
Bet on black, bet these cats that's all gelatin
Will fall back spittin' them raps that's unintelligent

Raps that cap, rabid rattlin' out the gattlin'
Crippling rhymes whistlin' past, blow you back in
Smellin' your blood now I'm huntin'
Blowin' your front in for frontin' what up cousin?
Oh, now it's nothin'

Yo, you can't go beyond a point of no returning
I flip like my name Turner
That's for certain nigga, Ted Turner, Nat Turner, nigga Ike Turner
The raw sojourner for truth, the mic burner, yeah

Somebody's gotta be there when it gets ugly
Somebody's gotta be there when it gets bloody
Somebody's gotta get their hands dirty
Yo, it's a fucked up job but somebody's gotta do it

Somebody's gotta come up with a plan
And be there when the shit hits the fan
I hope ya'll out there understand
Look man it's a fucked up job, but somebody's gotta do it

Mic malevolence defies violence I inherited
Others just rentin' it like rooms at the Sheraton
I gotta jones like Vanessa in the devil in
And y'all cold like a show in the Netherlands

Cold shoulders and frozen aortic valves
So I don't form pals, conform to norms, morals different
Gifted, use it to shift shit
A mutant shape shifter when I spit it I'm liquid

You could lick a million shots at the character of the body shell
They'll just richochette nigga aura's hard as hell
Before there was ain't hard to tell
The mic's cycle coincided right with mine as well

Since a minor I walked with the spine upstraight
I learned to rhyme to feed the dinner plate
I scraped barrel, even dined up on wine and steaks
'Cuz in the bone same marrow that apartheid chased

The narrow margin with the haves and the have nots
Will get smaller as I approach, so watch your stash box
Fox logo if your fave is local
Get bruised till you're the color of the Laker's logo, this is work niggas

Somebody's gotta be there when it gets ugly
Somebody's gotta be there when it gets bloody
Somebody's gotta get their hands dirty
Yo, it's a fucked up job but somebody's gotta do it

Somebody's gotta come up with a plan
And be there when the shit hits the fan
I hope ya'll out there understand
Look man it's a fucked up job, but somebody's gotta do it

I made it, ain't nobody believe in me
But this rap game is like selling coke legally
Ain't no innovations, that takes concentration
Nigga's celebrating not knowing the time they wasting

Killin' mics is one of my aesthetics
Rip very live so I'm an entertainer like Cedric
Shit they play on radio's now give me a headache
Can't slow me down I know where I'm headed

The profit on kill if you let it nigga's feeling energetic
Wanna rumble, guns will come out here come the paramedics
I'm just trying to live like I've Devin tired of my people failin'
We all sin, the devil, what did I tell 'em

Somebody gotta get their hands dirty and shoes muddy
I see things vividly, ya'll vision is blurry
Even if you hate, through my music you gone love
Everybody with me and they was with me when it was ugly

Somebody's gotta be there when it gets ugly
Somebody's gotta be there when it gets bloody
Somebody's gotta get their hands dirty
Yo, it's a fucked up job but somebody's gotta do it

Somebody's gotta come up with a plan
And be there when the shit hits the fan
I hope ya'll out there understand
Look man it's a fucked up job, but somebody's gotta do it

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Thursday, August 5, 2010

Shorty Wanna Be A Thug - Lyrics - All Eyez On Me - 2pac

Title: Shorty Wanna Be A Thug
Album: All Eyez On Me
Artist: 2pac
Composer(s): Johnny Jackson, Douglas Edwards, David Richardson, Tupac Shakur

Lyric:
Said he wanna be, shorties gonna be a thug
Said he wanna be, one day he's gonna be
Said he's wanna be, shorties gonna be a thug
Said he's gonna be, one day he gonna be

Say he wanna be, shorties gonna be a thug
Said he gonna be, one day he's gonna be
Said he wanna be, shorties gonna be a thug

He was a nice middle class nigga
But nobody knew the evil he'd do, when he got a little bigger
Get off the final blaze while puffing on a Newport
Plottin' on a another way to catch a case

Was only sixteen, yet convicted as a felon
With a bunch of old niggas but you the only one who ain't telling
I tell you it's a cold world, stay in school
You tell me its a man's world, play the rules

And fade fools, n' break rules until we major
Blaze up, getting with hoes through my pager
Was raised up, commencing to money makin' tactics
It's getting drastic, niggas got automatics

My fingers on the trigga, tell the Lord
To make way for another straight thug nigga
I'm sitting getting buzzed, looking for some luv
From the homies, 'cuz shorty wanna be a thug

Said he gonna be, one day he's gonna be
Said he wanna be, shorties gonna be a thug
Said he gonna be, one day he's gonna be
Said he wanna be, shorties gonna be a thug

Said he gonna be, one day he's gonna be
Said he wanna be, shorties gonna be a thug
Said he gonna be, one day he's gonna be
Said he wanna be, shorties gonna be a thug

Straight from the Hall to the Penn
Adolescent nigga scaling weight and standing six feet ten
He carried weight like a Mack truck
Gonna bust on some playa haters if the motherfuckers act tough

Then thats when the lethal weapon with the razor
This little nigga smoking weed and getting blazed up
No one could figure, when the guns blast pull the trigga
Could take the life of a young nigga guns bigger

No mother and father, you see, the niggas all alone
Old timers my role model, the war zone
Released with this game 'til it's a part of me
My heart don't beat no fear and it ain't hard to see

The future is looking dim
I'm trying to make a profit out of living in this sin
I'm in the dark getting buzzed, looking for some love
Out with the homies, 'cuz shorty wanna be a thug

Said he gonna be, one day he's gonna be
Said he wanna be, shorties gonna be a thug
Said he gonna be, one day he's gonna be
Said he wanna be, shorties gonna be a thug

Said he gonna be, one day he's gonna be
Said he wanna be, shorties gonna be a thug
Said he gonna be, one day he's gonna be
Said he wanna be, shorties gonna be a thug

Shorties gonna be a thug

You little bad ass nigga, to the young niggas
Gotta stay sharp nigga, play your part
You got plenty of time, you bad motherfuckers
You only get three mistakes, then thats life, big baby
Niggas crazy, watch the signs damn, you ain't but sixteen nigga?
Sixteen? That's a bad motherfucker

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Saturday, August 21, 2010

Gah Ta Be - Lyrics - DC Talk - Dc Talk

Title: Gah Ta Be
Album: DC Talk
Artist: Dc Talk
Composer(s): Kevin Max Smith, Toby Mc Keehan, Michael Tait

Lyric:
Now you can have all the fun and money man can have
Sport a Porche or carry Gucci bags
You can gear in gold from your chest to your chin
But if you don't know the Savior, you'll never get in
The gates of Hell shall prevail on your soul

If makin' money, shakin' honeys is your lifelong goal
There's a plan laid before you that can change the above
It can fit any man like a hand in a glove
There's only one way to Heaven and this won't change
'Cause my almighty Father's not respectful of names, so be saved

Saved, you gah ta be saved
Saved, you gah ta be saved
Saved, you gah ta be saved
Saved, you gah ta be saved

I once knew a politician upon Capitol hill
Attended all the right parties 'cause he voted on bills
He had big friends, he drove a Benz
But a life full of strife 'cause he was livin' in sin
He said he wasn't satisfied with life as it was

Everything he'd always wanted simply wasn't enough
When he asked me why so happy? I had to confess
I got Christ in my life, I've been more than blessed
You see there's nothin' wrong with finer things in life
But an eternity in Heaven ain't displayin' a price, so be saved

Saved, you gah ta be saved
Saved, you gah ta be saved
Saved, you gah ta be saved
Saved, you gah ta be saved

You gotta know it and believe it
You gotta show it and receive it

Saved, you gah ta be saved
Saved, you gah ta be saved
Saved, you gah ta be saved
Saved, you gah ta be saved

From a brother to another, I'm not doggin' the bucks
'Cause a bum without the Father is a bum outta luck
No mention of exemption, no requirements waived
To enter through the gates, ya gotta, gotta be saved
Don't make it complex, straight up text

No matter what race, creed, color or sex
Accept Him, don't reject Him, heed the call of the Christ
He's at your heart's door knockin', He awaits a reply
This life is temporary, lay your treasures above
Eternal life is offered through His infinite love, be saved

Saved, you gah ta be saved
Saved, you gah ta be saved
Saved, you gah ta be saved
Saved, you gah ta be saved

Saved, you gah ta be saved
Saved, you gah ta be saved
Saved, you gah ta be saved
Saved, you gah ta be saved

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Sunday, August 8, 2010

Down Foe My Thang - Lyrics - Creepin On Ah Come Up - Bone Thugs N Harmony

Title: Down Foe My Thang
Album: Creepin On Ah Come Up
Artist: Bone Thugs N Harmony
Composer(s): Steven Howse, David Weldon, Charles Scruggs, Bryon Mccane, Flesh-N-Bone Anthony Henderson

Lyric:
Creepin' up outta the woods, gotta give love to my hood
Smoke and I choke, and I creep on a come up
Niggas be tryin' run up but I bust, and they drop to their death
Now they done up, gun up, hunt my blunt up

Creepin' 'til sun up, feelin' slightly shady
Call me lightweight crazy, number one nigga little Layzie
Nigga don't wanna fight
Runnin' deadly thugsta soldiers, droppin' them thangs

Bone done told ya, testin' nuts, so a nigga gonna have to show ya
Faded a nigga that stepped up, let's slip in some shit
See 'em alls just stood up then put a foot up that ass
Had to blast that click-click

Sprayed the gauge, all cocked and ready to spray down to the pave
Puttin' them souls up off in them graves
Dwell in Hell, they'll all lay slayed
Amazed, must I blaze, it's insane when I take that bud to the brain
Toke, choke, holdin' me smoke until-a me strained, feelin' no pain

Better be packin' your weapon 'cause my shit is kept
And I'm ready to let loose sawed-off hangin'
Danglin' up under the trench, fin to blow that chest
But you shoulda wore a vest, fool
'Cause the Bone don't front, nigga check or get wrecked

Got Flesh on the set with his finger on a TEC
Loc'd out with the khakis and high techs
Respect them St. Clair thugs hustlin' drugs
Gotta make that money, man
Rap be the thang, and the fact remains that we owns that rap game

Bang, bang, gotta get down for my thang
Bone be me gang

We runnin' with no hoes and the bigger Bone
That's known for gettin' his swerve on and kickin' it on the stage
Off in the rag, gettin' my serve on
So, leave 'em alone, they come
They need to be shown that Bone done chrome, blown

Lay slugs up in to them domes, so go on
You'd rather go run a ho check, if you wanna test nuts with Flesh
I'm feelin' to lynch ya, mo murda
You're runnin' up eye to eye with death
Praise the Flesh, now nevertheless you're takin' a loss

And this slug snuffed up, and dumpin' the body up off in a coffin
Remember the vow said a preacher, me teach 'em
[Unverified] 'em with me nine, runnin' with thugs
And hustlas and murderin' 'em every time

Bang, bang, gotta get down for my thang
Bone be me gang

Remember the Ripsta, sinster creeper
Reapin' up that set with a street-sweeper
Gotta take a breather from sippin' me liter
Rippin' that flesh when I sneak with a meat cleaver
When I'm in me smug, never the studio thugsta

Buck 'em, buck 'em, motherfuck 'em
Thug never done bluff and fuck them bustas
So back up off me, no stack won't let me slip
When a nigga start to step, the weapon
Put 'em in the graveyard

Bitch, better buy your vest, then test Rest, the Ripsta
Quick to pick up the hollow points and put 'em up in your brains, nigga
My little nigga, Mo! Hart, my bigger nigga, Sin, dash fast
Get up with the block at last blast they ass, pass cash, then stash
Me can killa for free for homies and family

Tell 'em to see me, that realer nigga, the Ripsta, put 'em in rivers
It don't stop, drop P's to the SCT's and double glock, pop, pop
Here's the slug from the twelve gauge thug
You don't want fuck with, no buck with, Rip's breakin' 'em bustas
Blood, me fillin' 'em [unverified] me murder, I show no mercy
Turn your back, clack back me gat, diggin' 'em in the dirt, see

Get ready to duck, bitch, or get fucked up
They never could fuck with me sawed-off pump
Bitch, if I'm flippin' or load my clip in, nigga, y'all all fucked
Gotta make my money, slippin' me pump in my trench
And then click it

Now, nigga, it's rippin', steady clippin', not missin'
thuggin' with me click
And now Leatherface takin' your life so ya best stay back
Tossin' the rest in a coffin, 'cause niggas be runnin' up
Talkin' trash
Buck a guard while walkin' past, bang, bang
Gotta get down for my thangs

And I claim and hang with Ts, niggas that make cheese
For the green leaves
Gotta give peace, 'cause they swang these
Come, nigga, meet my hood and fulla nothin'
But thugs and hustlas, sin never been no busta

He'll stuff and buck-buck 'em and dump 'em, bitch
Nigga, muthafuck 'em, Krayzie don't love 'em
Put 'em to rest and run
So the po-po don't catch up, nigga can't be arrested
One M-11 me sendin' niggas to hell, and you're feelin' 187

Eleven dwellin' better from the cell
And nigga that pick up Mossberg
The quicker you to the curb
Put one to the temple, pump, to Mr. Policeman
That's all you heard

Bang, bang, gotta get down for my thang
Bone be me gang
Bang, bang, bang, bang

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35983ef8a2ab77b980a202287030e270

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Die - Lyrics - Lupe Fiasco's The Cool - Lupe Fiasco

Title: Die
Album: Lupe Fiasco's The Cool
Artist: Lupe Fiasco
Composer(s): Demarco Lamonte Castle, Wasalu Muhammad Jaco, Rudolph Loyola Lopez

Lyric:
I present the death of The Cool

Well I heard like a group of cows
That all ya enemies wanna shoot you down
They got AK-47s and a bunch of Mac 11s
Semi-automatic weapons that produce kapows

Word on the street is, they all got heaters
They gon' hit you up and you ain't even gon' see it
You got a lotta money, I ain't tryin' be funny
But they say, "Where you goin'? You ain't even gon' need it"

They see you ridin' 'round, shinin' with ya
Fine round diamonds pretty green-eyed lady
Been on the sideline poutin', while you prime time poppin'
Hungry niggaz want a piece of your pastry

I suggest you protect yo' bakery
'Cause they comin' for yo' head
And it's a bounty on that chain
That's hangin' from yo' neck, they said

I don't know, what you've been told in your ear
But I hear it's goin' down, somebody gotta
(Die)
Don't know, what you been told in your ear
But business goin' round, somebody gotta
(Die)

Hit a nigga wit the mini-Mac strap
Clap any nigga think he gettin' Gs' down here
In a meter, any nigga gettin money and my honey
Man, I heard Micheal Young is the re-clown near

Run up on a nigga from the back wit a Mac
Gon' be strapped 'cause a nigga finna squeeze off ten
Run up on this nigga 'Lac, rat-ta-tat-tat
Click clack, where this nigga at? I need sin

Shit is goin' down ever I see him
Bump a nigga out like Oxy-10
And keep a couple of dollars up in the wallet
To pay the cops so they can never box me in
(Die)

That's what I'm thinkin'
While ridin' around polishin' this big pistol
I'ma catch him in the wind, pray the gun don't jam
So until we meet again, nigga it's cool

I don't know, what you've been told in your ear
But I hear it's goin' down, somebody gotta
(Die)
Don't know, what you been told in your ear
But business goin' round, somebody gotta
(Die)

Don't pay them niggaz no mind
They hatin' on you, ain't nobody witta shotty
And plannin' on doin' a robbery, itchin' to catch a body
Creepin' in a stolen jalopy, out there waitin' on you

I'm sittin' in a stolen car, finna rob this nigga
Should I let the mini-Mac or the shotgun hit him?
I been waitin' all day, tryin' spot this nigga
I can't let him get away, I'ma pop this nigga, uh

Plus they don't know about the chopper in the trunk
The Glocks in a box and the nine on tuck
The bulletproof glass, the 40's in the stash
You pull the steerin' wheel and it pop on up

Forty caliber stashed up in the stash box
Bulletproof windows, you couldn't break 'em wit a padlock
Ak in the trunk, where the sounds bump
Two twin Glock 40's and a nine and this damn clock

Man, we finna go up in this club, show a lil' love
Get a few drinks, holla at some girls
Snatch up a pair, leave outta there
Put some 'dro in the air, then go and get some grub

I say we go up in this club, show a lil' love
Get a few drinks, holla at some girls
Snatch up a pair, leave outta there
Put some 'dro in the air, then catch a few slugs

Ay, ay, ay, pull over right here, I gotta take a pee
And don't go nowhere, nigga wait for me
And if some niggaz do kill you in the next few minutes
Just remember my nigga, it's a heaven for a G

Ay ay, hold this right there I'll be
I'll be right back, I gotta take a piss man hold on
Fo' sho, ay man, ay don't leave I'll be right back
Ay, don't leave I'll be back

Hurry your ass up man, damn
Coolest nigga what, Coolest nigga what
Coolest nigga what, hustla fo' life, ay man
Aiyyo, nigga hurry yo' ass up, man

Cool ass nigga man, fuckin' three in the mornin'
Coolest muh'fucker in the world man
Niggaz ain't fuckin' with me man
Nigga high, smokin' fly ass car

I run these motherfuckin' streets
Niggaz out here lookin' for me
Nigga, I wish a motherfucker would
Ay nigga hurry yo' ass up, nigga, damn

Wassup now, nigga?
Ain't too cool now, is you nigga?

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a2b592d75715536acd974d42007fc9e7

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Spinin' Round - Lyrics - Dc Talk

Title: Spinin' Round
Artist: Dc Talk
Composer(s): Kevin Max Smith, Toby Mckeehan, Michael Tait

Lyric:
Round, round, you're spinnin' round
Your life goes round and round

I got a reason to rap 'cause my God is King
Just like a gospel singer's got a reason to sing
And like young David used to play his harp
Presenting praise and worship in the form of an art

I selected a direction, I'm going one way
I got a motive and a reason to say what I say
Telling you about a friend, you need to know Him
Christ the Messiah is the Savior of men

I presented my purpose, now present to me yours
To boast and to brag the most is no chore
I don't mean to sound negative, ain't puttin' ya down
But it appears kinda clear that you're just spinnin' around

Round, round, a-ra-a round, round
You're spinnin' round
Round, round, a-ra-a round, round
On your way down

Round, round, a-ra-a round, round
You're spinnin' round
Round, round, a-ra-a round, round
Christ must be found

Spin, then do it again
But no real direction is where you've been
You're spinnin' like a top or a merry-go-round
Your life song is like my break sound

Your rap is ego-filled, the milk has been spilled
And for this piece of advice, you won't be billed
But take heed to this info, like it came from ya kin folk
Remem' it ain't a whim but you will hear it again

Yo, listen kinda a close, you might need a dose
Of Decent Christian rap with DC Talk as your host
I'm not on the mic to boast but I submit a toast
Praise the Lord y'all sings a heavenly host you're spinnin'

Round, round, a-ra-a round, round
You're spinnin' round
Round, round, a-ra-a round, round
On your way down

Round, round, a-ra-a round, round
You're spinnin'
Round, round, a-ra-a round, round
Christ must be found

Come on, come on, come on, come on
Come on, come on, come on, come on
Come on, come on, come on, come on
Come on, come on, come on, come on
Come on [Incomprehensible]

Stop grinnin' while you're spinnin' cause you're messin' up
You know I rap for the King who could be fillin' your cup
Enlightening lyrics can lengthen your life
Listen close, I don't boast, but illuminate Christ

Don't submit my name to fame, I don't claim to be down
'Cause you'll see me going up when the trumpet sounds
Call it heaven bound while you're spinnin' round
I'm saved, hear me rave, I'll be wearing' a crown

'Cause I'm in the Lord's army while satan's out to charm me
He won't harm me or disarm me, I know sin is gonna scar me
So I resist temptation, it comes in variation
Condemnation, devastation, you read in Revelation

God is love like a dove? His wrath will be keen
What I mean is unseen, it won't be green
Crushin' Satan, perpetratin' adversaries and foe
The Holy Word of God says they all gotta go

You're spinnin' round, round, a-ra-a round, round
You're spinnin' round
Round, round, a-ra-a round, round
Christ must be found

What's up, this is DC Talk
This song goes out to all you people
That have no direction in life, you people that are spinnin' round
Well I got news, God has a plan for your life,
He's just waitin' for you to ask Him for the map, so don't take it light

You're spinnin' round
Christ must be found
You're spinnin' round now
You're spinnin' round
Christ must be found
A word 'em up now
You're spinnin' round
You're spinnin' round

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98d66ece179b04b68319d9394ce440e5

Spinnin' Round - Lyrics - DC Talk - Dc Talk

Title: Spinnin' Round
Album: DC Talk
Artist: Dc Talk
Composer(s): Kevin Max Smith, Toby Mckeehan, Michael Tait

Lyric:
Round, round, you're spinnin' round
Your life goes round and round

I got a reason to rap 'cause my God is King
Just like a gospel singer's got a reason to sing
And like young David used to play his harp
Presenting praise and worship in the form of an art

I selected a direction, I'm going one way
I got a motive and a reason to say what I say
Telling you about a friend, you need to know Him
Christ the Messiah is the Savior of men

I presented my purpose, now present to me yours
To boast and to brag the most is no chore
I don't mean to sound negative, ain't puttin' ya down
But it appears kinda clear that you're just spinnin' around

Round, round, a-ra-a round, round
You're spinnin' round
Round, round, a-ra-a round, round
On your way down

Round, round, a-ra-a round, round
You're spinnin' round
Round, round, a-ra-a round, round
Christ must be found

Spin, then do it again
But no real direction is where you've been
You're spinnin' like a top or a merry-go-round
Your life song is like my break sound

Your rap is ego-filled, the milk has been spilled
And for this piece of advice, you won't be billed
But take heed to this info, like it came from ya kin folk
Remem' it ain't a whim but you will hear it again

Yo, listen kinda a close, you might need a dose
Of Decent Christian rap with DC Talk as your host
I'm not on the mic to boast but I submit a toast
Praise the Lord y'all sings a heavenly host you're spinnin'

Round, round, a-ra-a round, round
You're spinnin' round
Round, round, a-ra-a round, round
On your way down

Round, round, a-ra-a round, round
You're spinnin'
Round, round, a-ra-a round, round
Christ must be found

Come on, come on, come on, come on
Come on, come on, come on, come on
Come on, come on, come on, come on
Come on, come on, come on, come on
Come on [Incomprehensible]

Stop grinnin' while you're spinnin' cause you're messin' up
You know I rap for the King who could be fillin' your cup
Enlightening lyrics can lengthen your life
Listen close, I don't boast, but illuminate Christ

Don't submit my name to fame, I don't claim to be down
'Cause you'll see me going up when the trumpet sounds
Call it heaven bound while you're spinnin' round
I'm saved, hear me rave, I'll be wearing' a crown

'Cause I'm in the Lord's army while satan's out to charm me
He won't harm me or disarm me, I know sin is gonna scar me
So I resist temptation, it comes in variation
Condemnation, devastation, you read in Revelation

God is love like a dove? His wrath will be keen
What I mean is unseen, it won't be green
Crushin' Satan, perpetratin' adversaries and foe
The Holy Word of God says they all gotta go

You're spinnin' round, round, a-ra-a round, round
You're spinnin' round
Round, round, a-ra-a round, round
Christ must be found

What's up, this is DC Talk
This song goes out to all you people
That have no direction in life, you people that are spinnin' round
Well I got news, God has a plan for your life,
He's just waitin' for you to ask Him for the map, so don't take it light

You're spinnin' round
Christ must be found
You're spinnin' round now
You're spinnin' round
Christ must be found
A word 'em up now
You're spinnin' round
You're spinnin' round

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a13b4c9392933277fd60f32815e0673d

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Get It On The Floor - Lyrics - Grand Champ - Dmx

Title: Get It On The Floor
Album: Grand Champ
Artist: Dmx
Composer(s): Earl Simmons, Kasseem Dean

Lyric:
Let's get it on
We don't give a what, what
We don't give a what, what

Get it on the floor
Get it, get it on the floor
Get it on the floor
Get it, get it on the floor

You don't wanna party then your ass gotta go
You don't wanna party then your ass gotta go
Now you can ride to this motherfucker
Bounce to this motherfucker
Freak to this motherfucker
Let's get it on

Get it on the floor
Get it, get it on the floor
Get it on the floor
Get it, get it on the floor

Once again it's the darker nigga, hit or spark a nigga
Break apart a nigga but the dog is bigger, under stress
So unless you're wanting to bless to the chest
These slugs from his liver rest, rest
Or the pump'll put a hurt on a nigga
Dumd sex, motherfucker feeding dirt on a nigga
My hands stay dirty, 'cause I play dirty the mob way
You don't know? Fuck it find out the hard way

A nigga's job is never done, I handle my business how it come
And there's never been a one on one
Nor has there been a problem, I dissolve them
I'm like salt, lock it up, hate to fall but never wreck his car
And it's my fault, keep niggaz on point ducking down
Niggaz like you need to get bust you fucking clown
I extort to support my peeps
And hold down the fort, never get caught 'cause I creeps, nigga

Get it on the floor
Get it, get it on the floor
Get it on the floor
Get it, get it on the floor

You don't wanna party then your ass gotta go
You don't wanna party then your ass gotta go
Now you can ride to this motherfucker
Bounce to this motherfucker
Freak to this motherfucker
Let's get it on

Get it on the floor
Get it, get it on the floor
Get it on the floor
Get it, get it on the floor

I'm at the crossroads, look but I'm not really sure which way to go
Should I play that low for what I did the other day
They on their way to float, got me striking this random
I can't stand 'em, fake ass niggaz want to be the Phantom
Looking over my shoulder, 'cause it's colder than it was
And start shorty, because I'm a little older than 'cause
And the buzz from the saw, with the chain to your brain
Will turn that BIG NIGGA to a fucking stain

That pain from the dirt makes the hurt go away for a minute
But I'm gon' die by it 'cause I'm like knee deep in it
And you motherfuckers wonder why I start shit
'Cause when you look in my face you see that hard shit
'Cause I done been to hell and back I ain't wit selling crack
I'd rather rob a nigga leave him wit' a shell up in his back
On the real just to show proof, hit the G.W.B.
And blow the whole roof off the toll booth bitch ass nigga

Get it on the floor
Get it, get it on the floor
Get it on the floor
Get it, get it on the floor

You don't wanna party then your ass gotta go
You don't wanna party then your ass gotta go
Now you can ride to this motherfucker
Bounce to this motherfucker
Freak to this motherfucker
Let's get it on

Get it on the floor
Get it, get it on the floor
Get it on the floor
Get it, get it on the floor

When I crawl, leave a nigga sprawled out after I spoke 'em
I'll slit his throat, dick in the mud and let his blood choke 'em
Up north niggaz get the pick stuck up in 'em
And in the streets bitches get the dick stuck up in 'em
My M.O. is man-slaughter kid
'Cause on the reals I done wet up more motherfuckers than water did
Slid, 'cause I got to slide when the dirt is done
A homicide but they want me on the Murder 1

But as long as I got my gun, I'm aight
Stay outta sight while it's light, and then come out at night
To make moves again, stomp and bruise again
I know I'm going to hell 'cause I choose to sin
All my motherfucking life I been the devil's advocate
Now niggaz never even knew the devil had a kid
But he does and when you hear the buzz of the chainsaw
You'll know what I'll split your motherfucking brains for

Get it on the floor
Get it, get it on the floor
Get it on the floor
Get it, get it on the floor

You don't wanna party then your ass gotta go
You don't wanna party then your ass gotta go
Now you can ride to this motherfucker
Bounce to this motherfucker
Freak to this motherfucker
Let's get it on

Get it on the floor
Get it, get it on the floor
Get it on the floor
Get it, get it on the floor

Don't start nothin', it won't be nothin'
Don't start nothin', it won't be nothin'
You wanna start somethin' it's gon' be somethin'
You wanna start somethin', it's gon be somethin'
Don't start nothin', it won't be nothin'
Don't start nothin', it won't be nothin'
You wanna start somethin', it's gon be somethin'
You wanna start somethin', it's gon be somethin'
Yo yo, c'mon

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2d811085abe5194828c87e056d5cdf92

Monday, August 9, 2010

Foe Tha Love Of $ - Lyrics - Creepin On Ah Come Up - Bone Thugs N Harmony

Title: Foe Tha Love Of $
Album: Creepin On Ah Come Up
Artist: Bone Thugs N Harmony
Composer(s): Steven Howse, Antoine Carraby, Charles Scruggs, Yomo Craig Smith, Flesh-N-Bone Mark Eric Green, Anthony Henderson, Byron Mccane, Eric Wright

Lyric:
Foe tha love of $
Gotta make that money, man
That money, man
It's still the same, now

Gotta get on the grind, pop in the clip of my nine
And bitch, if you slip, you hit the chalk
And fall in the nighttime
Gotta get mine, ain't takin' no shorts or no losses

Hop on the phone, callin' my nigga, Sin, at home
Polishin' the MAC-1O chrome
Gotta lick, we can hit, so bring your shit
'Cause once again, it's on to the dome with a fifth of
(Burb)
My wig to the curb, so we swerve

And rolled out to pick up the triple-six thug
And follow the murder for robbin' the dope house
Smoke jump outta me bong, so high, now comin'
To slay with four grenades and a gauge

I'm a play, watch all 'em fall in the grave and lay
Pullin' in the driveway, Wish spotted the place
And quickly rolled up, bulldozed through the livin' room
Hopped out of the car and started to blow up

Buck, buck and a kabloom, me blew
All them bodies all over the room, them doomed
And gotta move fast, why? The po-po's comin'
Snatch up me yummy, so nigga, don't think it's funny
I'm comin' up quick in the nine-quat, 'cause
Flesh be lovin' this money, this money

I'm givin' up love to the hustlas, all them St.Clair thugstas
Makin' that money, stayin' on your feet
And you better believe gotta have that cheese
For the green leaves, never catch me sleep

Stay on the grind, get mine, stayin' down for my crime
And I hit up the nine nine, givin' up that 1lello
Makin' me sale, twenties, nickels and dimes
Beat up and stick up a lick up

That two-eleven, gotta get what's mine, then bailin'
Me kickin' up dust, I'm trailin', feelin' one-eight-seven
That's how it is and I gotsta have it in the nine-quat
Mission, to check a mill and still be real

Thuggin' on the glock-glock, creepin' on a come up
Won't sleep 'til I'm done up, gotta blaze me blunt up
Hunt up another plot and scheme, gotta make some green
'Cause soldiers nut up, what up?

Gotta get that business on
Even though the buddah run me
Stun me, feelin' lovely but I'm just in it for the
Foe tha love of $

Foe tha love of $
Gotta make that money, man
That money, man
It's still the same, now

Standin' on the corner, straight slangin' rocks
Aw, shit, here comes the muthafuckin' cops
So I dash, I duck and I hides behind a tree
Makin' sure the muthafuckas don't see me

Now my fat sack of rocks, hell, yeah, I stuffed 'em
Police on my draws, I had to pause and yeah
It's still muthafuck 'em, now my game is tight
Tight as fuck is my game

Eazy-muthafuckin'-E or Eric Wright it's all the same
Now, niggas might trip on how I stacks my grip
I gotta have it, bitch
For the love of this shit, muthafucka

Gotta make that money, man
That money, man
It's still the same, now

When dough got me thugsta, thuggish ways
Down for my crime everytime, follow me down the nine nine
And you will find all of me kind
Check out the Ripsta, now, drop down

Run 'em up outta me hood, rip's straight
When I'm makin' me grip with a me click
Rollin' with Ruthless, the thug I be
Me put 'em in mud, buck 'em and pump blood

Got nothin' to lose, bitch, ya better respect Rip
Or ya best just check this slug, it's goin' down
Steady pump and peel rounds, gunnin' with a me gang
Bang, gotta make that money, man

It's still the same, steady runnin' thangs wild
And follow me now, while I take ya up into a barrel of a gun, see
For the dub, you're done, for the bud, I run
For the love of my money

Nigga down for my thang off in this thug game
So peep as me creep and me crawlin' off
On the mission to back in the days
When niggas was bailin' with sawed-offs

And wanted to get paid, runnin' to my side,
Lil' nigga, Ripsta, both on the mission for money
You give up the cash, oh, that was your ass
'Cause me and my nigga was hungry

And, bitch, if you're stallin', you might just catch one
To the temple and um, Bone raw doggin'
So nigga just make this shit simple and run
To catch one nigga, me fill 'em with bullets

And dump 'em in rivers, remember, me killa, now
For money, me dig ya six feet in a ditch and get richer
'Cause bitch, you were slippin', I'll cut ya, then rip ya
Then buck ya down, steady robbin' and stealin', makin' a killin'

Nigga drugdealin', needin' a million
Hustlin' drugs when the thugs be chillin'
For the money, these niggas be sellin'
Off in the cut, where you find a nigga thuggin'

Off in braids and skullies and when I stick ya
And lick ya, remember
I get 'em up foe tha love of $
Foe tha love of $

Yeah, Bone in the muthafuckin' house
For the nine-quats, nigga, yeah, rollin'
With Ruthless Records in this bitch
My niggas, Layzie Bone, Bizzy Bone, Wish Bone
And Flesh-n-Bone and I'm that nigga, Krayzie Bone
In the muthafuckin' house

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9674791aed1fdadbb11289f70cafc4ec

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Outlaw - Lyrics - Me Against The World - 2pac

Title: Outlaw
Album: Me Against The World
Artist: 2pac
Composer(s): Mutah W Beale, Tupac Amaru Shakur, Katari T Cox, Yafeu A Fula, Malcolm Greenidge, Maurice Stewart

Lyric:
That's right nigga you gotta get your papers in this motherfucker
I ain't mad at ya at all
Aiyyo, what the fuck you wanna be when you grow up RahRah?
Nigga, is you stupid, I wanna be a motherfuckin' outlaw

That's right nigga, hahaha housin' these hoes, you feel me?
Aight, know what I'm sayin'
You got to do that shit, keepin' it real nigga or what?
Keepin' it real
How old are you nigga?
I'm eleven

'Cause all I see is, murder murder, my mind state
Preoccupied with homicide, tryin' to survive through this crime rate
Dead bodies at block parties, those unlucky bastards
Gunfire now they require may be closed casket

Who can you blame? It's insane what we dare do
Witness an evil that these men do, bitches in, too
In fact they be the reasons niggaz get to bleedin'
Pull the fuckin' fire when I leave 'em, you shoulda seen 'em

Hostile hoes catch elbows Negroes disposed of
And snitches get dealt with, with no love
Body bags of adversaries that I had to bury
I broke the law and they jaw, all in the same flurry

But never worry
They'll remember me through history
Causin' motherfuckers to bleed
They'll label me a

Outlaw, outlaw, outlaw
They came in to sin
Outlaw, outlaw, outlaw
Dear God, I wonder could you save me?

Before I close my eyes I fantasize I'm livin' well
When I awake and realize I'm just a prisoner in hell
Just as well, 'cause in my cell I'm keepin' pictures of these bastards
Excersisin', visualizin', everyone inside a casket

Picture me blasted, surrounded by niggaz in masks
Sent with the task to harass and murder my ass
Will I last? Heaven or Hell? Freedom or jail?
Shit's hard, who can you tell? And if we fail?

High speeds, and Thai weed on the freeway
When will they learn to take it easy?
Drivebys and niggaz die, murder without a motive
By making motherfuckers fry

Got me runnin' from these coward-ass crooked-ass cops
Helicopters tryin' to hover over niggaz 'til we drop
Got no time for the courts, my only thought is open fire
Hit the district attorney, but fuck that bitch, 'cause she's a lie

Now it's time to expire, I see the judge, spray the bitch
Motherfuckers is crooked, is what I scream, and hit the fence
I comense to get wicked, spittin' rounds as the plot thickens
Never missin' an early grave is my only mission

If I die, never worry
Bury me beside my four-five
May God forgive me
I was high, label me a

Outlaw, outlaw, outlaw
They came in to sin
Outlaw, outlaw, outlaw
Dear God, I wonder could you save me?

Society lied to me, I ain't never gonna try to be
My mob'll be doin' robberies, and stickups on these wannabe's
I witnessed niggaz lose they chest
For ordinary reasons niggaz bodies put to rest

So I just
Swallow my Beck's and holla, fuck 'em
And if I'm next
Just let a nigga step with somethin' I ain't fearin' nuttin'

Young and thuggin', prepared for bustin' if that's my destiny
Ready for whatever, see you niggaz can't get the best of me
Hold me down, definitely no need for askin'
Now he mad, top speed, smokin' weed, blasted

'Cause when I bust 'em they gonna shiver, the killers cry
Soldiers got bodies floatin' in the river, what is they sayin'
Talkin' 'bout prayin' they need to stop, that ain't gon' help
These niggaz sprayin' up my block, tryin' to take my wealth

Outlaw, outlaw, outlaw
They came in to sin
Outlaw, outlaw, outlaw
Dear God, I wonder could you save me?

Outlaw, outlaw, outlaw
They came in to sin
Outlaw, outlaw, outlaw
Dear God, I wonder could you save me?

Fuck the judge, I gotta grudge
Punk police, niggaz run the streets
Hahah, it ain't nuttin' but muzik
Shit's changed

1995 the game has changed, motherfuckers is actin' real strange
The rules is all rearranged
You got babies lyin' dead in the streets
These punk police is crooked as me

But all I see is motherfuckers actin' less than G's
Stop bein' a playa-hater, be a innovator nigga
Fuck that shit, don't be no entertainer and a stranger
Be a real motherfucker keep it real pack that steel

'Cause you know these streets is real deal
Muh'fuckers wanna see me in my casket
Jealous, motherfuckin' bastards
I never die, thug niggaz multiply

'Cause after me is thug life baby
Then the young thugs
Then the youngest thug of all
My nigga RahRah

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8053dc4c01eff0de7806114640f8608e

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Crew Of The Year - Lyrics - The Movement - Harlem World

Title: Crew Of The Year
Album: The Movement
Artist: Harlem World
Composer(s): Ameen E Burns, Samuel J Barnes, Mason Betha, Chauncey Hawkins, Jean C Oliver

Lyric:
Yo throw the beat on
Yeah yeah yeah
Trackmaster
Harlem World The Movement
The Commisioner
Cuda Love up above
This shit is not a game
Ya hear me?

Suprise I'm 'bout to blow right before your eyes
Recognize the steelo of this nigga Meeno
First of all there will be no type of discussion
For this money the industry I'm bum rushing
And trusting who? Never that, only crew
And who's my crew? A chosen few that's how I do
So I could walk Harlem days, let it creep Harlem nights
Bum bitches givin' blows, parties and gunfights
Only right, I be the spark that will ignite
Explosions, MIC erosion, niggas is foldin'
And we are holdin' down the track
Proceed with caution, stop your flossin' or see a coffin
Guess what, what? It's really not too often
That I let loose like this, but fuck it
Here's a portion with no endorsement
Doin' what I gotta, to make it hotta
A nigga frontin' hard, so now I gotta blow his spot up
Show 'em I'mma be the one that's gonna blow 'em
Out the box, with the ox, nice to know 'em
Then screw him, like White Castle I ran right through him
Right through him, like I never knew him

Harlem World'll be the crew of the year
Scream it out, we don't give a fuck who isn't here
Harlem World'll be the crew of the year
And murder niggas, all we do is a year
Harlem World'll be the crew of the year
Scream it out, we don't give a fuck who isn't here
Harlem World'll be the crew of the year
And murder niggas, all we do is a year
Scream it out

Yo, I was sworn, never again to sell drugs
But every now and then, yo, I tend to bust slugs
It's bug, how niggas get rolled up in rugs
Fold up, and dumped in a hole of a dug six feet
You creep, niggas know who the thug
And that's why Loon never showed you no love
You feminine, and don't know the shit you swimmin' in
Fucking with this thing was gentlemen that boost my adrenaline
Cool the momentum and flow, I'm in it for dough
And don't need to gimmick to blow
When I get it you know nigga, 'cause I visit yo' hoe
I hit it befo', I be there hit it some mo'
Y'all niggas on coke. Me? I think your shit is a joke
But y'all find out when the heavy hitters awoke
And opposed to me? Y'all niggas hoes to me
How the fuck you gettin' money doin' shows for free?

Harlem World'll be the crew of the year
Scream it out, we don't give a fuck who isn't here
(Harlem World)
Harlem World'll be the crew of the year
(The Movement)
And murder niggas, all we do is a year
(All Out)
Harlem World'll be the crew of the year
Scream it out, we don't give a fuck who isn't here
(Yeah kid, Harlem on the rise)
Harlem World'll be the crew of the year
(C'mon, c'mon, c'mon)
And murder niggas, all we do is a year
(C'mon, c'mon)
Scream it out

Yo, now why talk Willy livin' in the tenements?
Why shoot Dominicans then go to the Hill again?
Then again, why repent when I'mma sin again?
Why eat at Blimpies if I could eat in the Bennigans?
Dumb niggas with Timbaland, til they body tremblin'
Messin' with Mase money and they'll be rememberin'
I hate the color green 'less it comes in Benjamins
Is that the same color my brother got sent up in?
You laugh all day but cry the sinner's sin
Stranded on the Island, I don't mean the Gilligan
You thug gentlemen, deep down feminine
'Cause in the pen, change your name to Cinnamon
You speakin' on money and you ain't put a penny in
You gon' float on the same shit they put the penguin in
And my adrenaline won't let me be no Minute Man
'Cause I put my dick in any bitch I could fit it in
C'mon

Harlem World'll be the crew of the year
Scream it out, we don't give a fuck who isn't here
Harlem World'll be the crew of the year
And murder niggas, all we do is a year
Harlem World'll be the crew of the year
Scream it out, we don't give a fuck who isn't here
Harlem World'll be the crew of the year
And murder niggas, all we do is a year
Scream it out

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82c42d2a49dc62a1f5b2f61c2f29ab6d

Saturday, July 31, 2010

Duck Sick - Lyrics - Compton'S Most Wanted

Title: Duck Sick
Artist: Compton'S Most Wanted
Composer(s): Mc Eihl Andre Manuel, Terry Allen

Lyric:
You was jealous, it's all your fault
What's up, punk?
You was jealous, it's all your fault
Pretty soon it's a homie you're grievin'
You was jealous, it's all your fault
Got beef? What a pity
You was jealous, it's all your fault

Back for the payback, black, you came up shorter
Geah, your ass is out, Eiht wrote another
Funky rap about your jealous conflict
How you diss C.M.W, boy, you ain't said shit

Your senses should tell ya, kick it, don't be a hero
Equipped to whip is Eiht, unlike a zero
I gotta hitcha, or get witcha
Sit down, clown, I commence to paint a picture

Hm, it's kinda funny, but yet somewhat amazing
Take you serious? I think about it while I'm blazing
Only then will my reaction show
How I chill and let my tempo flow

Too sorry is the name for your rap
No competition, dissin', boy, you need to be slapped
Eiht ain't no punk, so learn it quick
Oh yes, P.S., C.M.W., and you can get my duck sick

You can get the duck sick
You can get my duck sick
You can get the duck sick

I don't believe it, how the hell'd you get on wax?
Makin' demos on your tape deck tracks
You did a show and I heard it was wack
You tossed our records, think I tossed right back

You got the nerve, tryin' to go down like a trooper
In better words, you go down like King Cooper
So stop your little dissing, saying that I can't handle
I put your lights out, you have to rap by a candle

Go head up punk, or sell out, I know you must've
Heard the word, new jack, I'm not a buster
Always down to bust a record, a party, know what I mean?
But unlike yourself, sucker, I do it for cream

So period, end of story, don't even bore
Me, Tha Chill MC, claim to gory
So that's it, the Eiht and Chill is the shit
(Chill)
Word and you can get the duck sick

You can get the duck sick
Yo, you can get my duck sick
You can get the duck sick
Geah, get the duck sick
You can get the duck sick

Get the duck sick
Word up
You can get the duck sick

Wait a minute, hold up, punk, I know you're kiddin'
Sayin' E can't hang, you're bullshittin'
I'm not a rookie, meaning a beginner
If fakin' was a sin, you'd be a sinner

Load up my mic and gat, start gunnin'
Fresh off the Compton streets, so start runnin'
You come across like a two-bit sucker
Tryin' to compare with a hard motherfucker

Punk, they call me Eiht, so give me respect
I heard you did a show on your Mom's tape deck
Fool, you fucked up smooth tryin' to diss
A victim of a violent crime on the list

So wake up and smell the bud', you little pupils
Tryin to go head up, punk, you got no scruples
Conflict you pick, you're sick
You can't fade us, but yo, you can get the E's duck sick

You can get the duck sick
Geah, you can get the E's duck sick
You can get the duck sick
School 'em

Now, who got you hip to be a rapper?
You sorry jack-ass
(You punk whipper snapper)
Just take a step back, and boy, start peepin'

On Eiht and Chill
(Geah, ain't no sleepin')
Quiet as it's kept, the news'll spread like AIDS
Hip hop, C.M.W. gets paid

Always down to dunk the funk
Or clownin' down a weak-ass punk
The beef you got, to Chill, don't mean shit
Just a test I have to pass to show I'm on hit

And Tha Chill's on hit, legit with the E I don't quit
I grab a chair and a whip like a lion, suckers I'm tamin'
Peel a cap and snap on the mic, because I'm gamin'
So watch me rip, 'cause you suckers is on a ego tip
Stupid suckers, yo you can get Chill's duck sick

You can get the duck sick
What you say, E?
Get the duck sick
Get the duck sick

Yo, who want the duck sick now?
My man Unknown want the duck sick, E
My man DJ Slip want the duck sick
Word 'em up, Mike we be boomin' on the boards want the duck sick
My Deejays Ant C and Mike T want the duck sick

You guys are sick

Play the MP3 online for free!
1d2e73fbe8e94e8776f02f8da0637ff7

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

You Get Dealt Wit - Lyrics - Jermaine Dupri

Title: You Get Dealt Wit
Artist: Jermaine Dupri
Composer(s): Mason Betha, Jermaine Dupri, Lamarquis Jefferson, Kimberly Jones

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

Lyric:
Just show me the Bounce J
Once I get the bounce, I'mma be good
(Fuckin' with my dough is like fuckin' with my pride)
(And fuckin' with my hoes is like fuckin' with my high)
Niggas gon' hate me I get that
(That's two things in life that you just don't mess with)
Then I'll have everything
(Act like a trick and like a trick you get dealt with)

Now I know you love my lazy flow
But here come my crazy flow
Do this shit 'cause it make me dough
Do it again to make me more

Rich is only way to go
Givin' you what you pay me for
What you lookin' shady for?
Bitch you ain't got my baby hoe

Top down 64 radio AC blow
They peep though think that automatically
'Cause this nigga roll with Puff Daddyo
He gotta be ridin' in a B E N T L E, but why?

'Cause you see a young nigga like me out doing it
Wanna come and put ya two in it
Wanna ruin it, see me pursuin' it
And wanna spend what's mine

First you wouldn't give me the time
Now you gotta get in line
Think that Mase gon' trick a dime
You out ya fuckin' mind

See I'm 'bout it, 'bout it, now is you with it, with it?
Bitch I don't care how you get ya dough, you get it get it
Now you can't claim to be a pimp and then go be committed
Just like you hit it, hit it man another nigga don' hit it

Fuckin' with my dough is like fuckin' with my pride
And fuckin' with my hoes is like fuckin' with my high
That's two things in life that you just don't mess with
Act like a trick and like a trick you get dealt with

Fuckin' with my dough is like fuckin' with my pride
And fuckin' with my hoes is like fuckin' with my high
That's two things in life that you just don't mess with
Act like a trick and like a trick you get dealt with

Hoes know to fuck with me and they'll be set fo' life
Lookin' nice sex right livin' in my paradise
I been makin' millions since I was young
And still clockin' still rockin' hoe hoppin'
Showin' all y'all niggas how it's done

You know so so sell copies like Kinko's
So ya better bend before ya go saying too much shit
'Cause all I'm about is makin' dough
And makin' mo' keepin' my glow sho nuff
Unlike yo' stuff I make the shit that keep 'em runnin' to the sto'

Swappin' drop tops on the regular
Spittin' game on the cellular
If I meet a hoe and the hoe ain't tryin' to fuck
Then the hell with her I'm tellin' ya

Shit we do ya can't erase
Took a little change of pace me and Mase
For the niggas that hate
We still up in yo' fuckin' face

Fuckin' with my dough is like fuckin' with my pride
And fuckin' with my hoes is like fuckin' with my high
That's two things in life that you just don't mess with
Act like a trick and like a trick you get dealt with

Fuckin' with my dough is like fuckin' with my pride
And fuckin' with my hoes is like fuckin' with my high
That's two things in life that you just don't mess with
Act like a trick and like a trick you get dealt with

Now why the fuck you keep blamin' me?
You the one that try to shoot game to me
Thug ass bitch you claim to be
Y'all hoes never meant a thang to me

Frontin' ass niggas want to roll with us
Go with us, spend a little dough with us
Got a crush, hush, on this slim chick
With the wet lips and the set hips

Too much smoke in the Lex' whip
Can't pick who I wanna sex with
Got more weed than a lil' bit
Hydro ain't no bullshit

Then I come through in the 6 drop
Me and Lil' Cease doin' the Wop
Infrared clips filled to the top
Y'all niggas need to stop

Can, can I say it again say it again?
Better come through with a little more win, B.I.G. is a slogan
R.I.P. 'til I see ya again ain't no tellin' in this life of sin
How much dough you got to spend, take so long you got to bend

Grab yo' man snatch yo' bitch
Fill them flames with them clips
When the cops come stash the Indo
Better throw the weed up out the window

Wannabe clowns, got jokes ain't shit funny
Play y'all niggas
Like dummies click-click
Show me the Money

Fuckin' with my dough is like fuckin' with my pride
And fuckin' with my hoes is like fuckin' with my high
That's two things in life that you just don't mess with
Act like a trick and like a trick you get dealt with

Fuckin' with my dough is like fuckin' with my pride
And fuckin' with my hoes is like fuckin' with my high
That's two things in life that you just don't mess with
Act like a trick and like a trick you get dealt with

Play the MP3 online for free!
78e5708b24c8936b51df700793090ffa