Green I'Z - Lyrics - No Place Like Brooklyn - Jeannie Ortega

Title: Green I'Z
Album: No Place Like Brooklyn
Artist: Jeannie Ortega
Composer(s): Kovasciar Myvett, Jeannette Ortega

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Lyric:
Jeannie, Jeannie, Jeannie can't you see?
Your green I'z just hypnotize me
And I just love your flashy ways
Don't you know my love is here to stay
Is here to stay, is here to stay, is here to stay

Listen, so innocent, so tempted, what to do?
Look into my I'z, they'll take over you
They'll draw your body close
They'll take control of you

Look into the windows of my soul
What makes your man wanna let go?
Makes your body hot head to toe
These green I'z

Keep the contact, don't lose it
Makes you wanna come pursue this
Don't you wanna come and be with
These green I'z, these green I'z?

These green I'z

I'll make you do like this
That you said, you'll never do
What's wrong baby, boy?
Am I teasing you?

On your mind, all the time

Look into the windows of my soul
What makes your man wanna let go?
Makes your body hot head to toe
These green I'z

Keep the contact, don't lose it
Makes you wanna come pursue this
Don't you wanna come and be with
These green I'z?

These green I'z

Drop your things and hand 'em away
Don't you want to come and play?
Find a place to get away
There's no words for what the I'z can say

Look into the windows of my soul
What makes your man wanna let go?
Makes your body hot head to toe
These green I'z

Keep the contact, don't lose it
Makes you wanna come pursue this
Don't you wanna come and be with
These green I'z?

These green I'z
These green I'z

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cb878d91ee6646c3899d266c5c16f45e

Z - Green Light - Lyrics - The Best Of Both Worlds (Jay-Z & R. Kelly) - Jay

Title: Z - Green Light
Album: The Best Of Both Worlds (Jay-Z & R. Kelly)
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): R Kelly, Shawn Carter, D Grant

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

Lyric:
Who da fuck can stop us, niggaz?
It's gangsta, niggaz
It's gangsta, it's gangsta, nigga
All g-g-gangsta, nigga

Green light, go, go, go, go, go, go
Go, go, go, go, go, go
You got the green light
To drag your motherfuckin' mink

Green light, go, go, go, go, go, go
Throw your pinkie ring
High in the motherfuckin' air
Go, go, go, go, go, go
Drop your top, c'mon

Now, I done told y'all niggaz once before
Y'all don't know who you fuckin' wit
Y'all gon' fuck around
And make me come up out this music biz
(Don't make me)

This just a record deal, y'all motherfuckers been on some shit
Bite my style, tryin' to get rich so I decided to flip my shit
Benefit me like a tight outfit, like Mr. Biggs' about to have a fit
It's, about to be some shit
(Please, believe it)

See, Vindawg and Dreshal got a nigga real open, y'all
I see haters peepin' me, lookin' hard like a pussy
Same fight, different round, same circus, different clown
Same pussy, different town, assholes, how you like me, now

Kel' and Jigga, the best of both niggaz
Put two heads together, mean mo' figures
Word to Tigger put me off up in the 'Bassment'
With the rest of the rap niggaz, watch ratings get bigger

I'm a pimp of this music, the tracks be my hoes
Sisqo, don't make me kick you out like Devoe
Haters left, players right, green light

Go, go, go, go, go, go
You have the green light
To be as pimp as you want to
Go, go, go, go, go, go

Green light, go, go, go, go, go, go
Go, go, go, go, go, go
Green light, go, go, go, go, go, go
Go, go, go, go, go, go

Green light, go, go, go, go, go, go
Oh, dis gangsta!
Go, go, go, go, go, go
It's so muh'fuckin' gangsta

Psycho, like no bitch ass, niggaz
Don't wanna see the R.O.C. so you creep low
Shoot from the line like a free throw
With this 'nali of mine like a Pi-co

Leave niggaz far behind like a cheap hoe
On my grind every time that you see Hov'
Yeah I got it, come and get it, green light, go
(Go)
Red dot, I stop ya, yellow niggaz move slow

Red dot I got 'em, tell that nigga move slow
Head shots pop 'em when I let the uz' go
He done told fool

Dunn think Dunn loc' in when a gun smokin'
Tell Dunn I been gun totin'
He don't know he facin' death
Hockey mask on Jason's step

Don't make me pop past your Raisinette
You niggaz cow ass
You bullshit, I pull shit and keep a full clip

Go, go, go, go, go, go
Go, go, go, go, go, go
Green light, go, go, go, go, go, go
Go, go, go, go, go, go

Green light, go, go, go, go, go, go
Go, go, go, go, go, go
Green light, go, go, go, go, go, go
Go, go, go, go, go, go

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23ff6ea031a356f490c923cf0ebcbc2b

Z - Excuse Me Miss - Lyrics - The Blueprint 2: The Gift & The Curse - Jay

Title: Z - Excuse Me Miss
Album: The Blueprint 2: The Gift & The Curse
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Shawn C Carter, Chad Hugo, Pharrell L Williams

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

Lyric:
You can't roll a blunt to this one
You gotta, you gotta well, ya gotta light a J
You gotta puff a J on this one
You can't even drink Crist-OWL on this one
You gotta drink Crist-ALL
Buy some red wine, a little Gocha 9-7
This is for the grown and sexy, uhh

You're so contagious, I can't take it
Have my baby, let's just make it
Ex-cuse me, what's your name?
Yeah, can I get my grown man on for one second?
'Cause I see some ladies tonight
That should be hangin' wit Jay-Z, Jay-Z
So hot to trot la-dy!
Excuse me miss, what's your name?
Can you come, hang with me?
Possibly, can I take you out, tonight

You already know what it's hittin' for
Ma I got whatever outside and you know what I'm sittin' on
50/50 venture with them S dots kickin' off
Armadale poppin' now, only bring a nigga more
Only thing missin' is a Missus
You ain't even gotta do the dishes, got two dishwashers
Got one chef, one maid, all I need is a partner
To play spades with the cards up, all trust

Who else you gon' run with, the truth is us
Only dudes movin' units Em, Pimp Juice and us
It's the Roc in here
Maybach outside got [Incomprehensible] air
PJ's on the runway, Young got air
I don't land at a airport, I call it the clearport
Therefore, I don't wanna hear more
Back and forth about who's hot as Young, holla

Sex-cuse me, damn
You're so contagious, I can't take it
Have my baby, let's just make it
I got my Gocha 9-7 on right now
La-dy.
You gotta puff a J to this one
Can't roll a blunt up to this one boy
You're so contagious, I can't take it
Have my baby, let's just make it
Ex-cuse me, what's your name?
'Cause I see some ladies tonight
That should be rollin' wit Jay-Z, Jay-Z
So hot to trot la-dy! What's your name?
'Cause I see some ladies tonight
That should be rollin' wit Jay-Z, Jay-Z
You're so foxy girl, you're so hot to trot

Everybody's like, "He's no item! Please don't like him"
He don't wife 'em, he one night's 'em!
Now she don't like him, she never met him
Groupies try to take advantage of him, he won't let 'em
He don't need 'em, so he treats 'em like he treats 'em
Better them than me, she don't agree with him
She's mad at that, he's not havin' that
So those opposites attract like mag-a-nets

She sees more than the Benz wagon, the friends taggin' along
With a flashy nigga braggin' on the song
She gets a glimpse of Shawn and she likes that
He 2-ways her, so she writes back
Smiley faces after all of her phrases
Either she the one or I'm caught in "The Matrix"
But fukkit, let the Fishburne
Red or green pill, you live and you learn, c'mon

Sex-cuse me, damn
You gotta throw on your fine linens for this one
You're so contagious, I can't take it
Have my baby, let's just make it
You might go, you mighta gotta go get you some Scooby Doo's
La-dy
Gotta throw on ya Scooby Doo's, those are shoes by the way
You're so contagious, I can't take it
Gotta throw on Scooby Doo's, hehehehe
Have my baby, let's just make it
Ex-cuse me, what's your name?
This for the grown and sexy, only for the grown and sexy
So hot to trot la-dy! What's your name?
Woo
You're so foxy girl you're so hot to trot

Love let's go half on a son, I know my past ain't one
You can easily get past, but that chapter is done
But I'm done readin' for now
Remember spades face up, you can believe him for now
But ma you got a f'real f'serious role
I'm 'bout to give you all the keys and security codes
'Bout to show you where the cheese, let you know I ain't playin'
But, before I jump out the window, what's your name?

Sex-cuse me, damn
You're so contagious, I can't take it
Have my baby, let's just make it
La-dy
You're so contagious, I can't take it
Have my baby, let's just make it
Ex-cuse me, what's your name?
So hot to trot la-dy! What's your name?
You're so foxy girl, you're so hot to trot

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6cd70b2cb334c846658cfb4ea401fde6

Z - Hello Brooklyn - Lyrics - Jay

Title: Z - Hello Brooklyn
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Derrick Baker, Dwayne Carter, Shawn C Carter, Michael Louis Diamond, Matt Dike, Adam Keefe Horovitz, John Robert King, Michael S Simpson, Adam Nathaniel Yauch

Lyric:
Hello Brooklyn

Hello Brooklyn, how you doin'?
Where you goin'? Can I come to?
And if I can, I'm a be your man
You could be my lady and have my baby

And drive my car and drive me crazy
Wherever you goin', baby girl just take me
'Cause I'm so taken, if you taken
I'm just sayin' baby, I'm just sayin'

Like a mama you birth me, Brooklyn you nursed me
Schooled me with hard knocks, better than Berkeley
They said you murked me by the time I was twenty one
That shit disturbed me but you never hurt me

Hello Brooklyn, if we had a daughter
Guess what I'm a call her, Brooklyn Carter
When I left you for Virginia, it didn't offend you
'Cause you know I only stepped out to get dinner

And I'm eatin', so much I bought extra
So much so the dinner's now turnin' to breakfast
I only roll Lexus, to hug your road
I love your corners, I'm half your soul

Hello Brooklyn, how you doin'?
Where you goin'? Can I come to?
And if I can, I'm a be your man
You could be my lady and have my baby

And drive my car and drive me crazy
Wherever you goin', baby girl just take me
'Cause I'm so taken, if you taken
I'm just sayin' baby, I'm just sayin'

Hello Brooklyn, what's your story?
She said, she eatin' on the run but she ain't N.O.R.E.
She said, she got a man but he ain't worried
But baby, I'm a have to Rob him like Horry

She said, she love B.I.G. and she like 2Pac
And when I said Jay-Z, she said it's The ROC
And I'm a leave it like this, like this like that
Where Brooklyn at? Where Brooklyn at?

Have you seen her?
And when she tell you somethin' you better believe her
She told me she like my New Orleans demeanor
And so I said, "Goodbye Katrina"

And hello Brooklyn
But baby you are the sweetest sight eyes could see
I said, "Hello Brooklyn"
But baby I hope you never say goodbye to me

I said, "Hello Brooklyn"
But but baby you are so damn fine to me
And I remember the time, place and the weather
On the day you said hi to me and let's say hello Brooklyn

Brooklyn we crazy, look how you made me
Razor blades in my mouth walkin' 'round behavin'
Or demented black hoodies and Timberlanded
Always schemin' you see the green on that niggas pendant

Hello Brooklyn, you bad influence, look what you had me doin'
But I ain't mad at you, look at my attitude
It says my life's too real, check out my ice grill
Baby I'm cold as ice, like I'm from Brownsville

But my Bed's in the Stuy, so while I Flatten your Bush
Till we smoke a C.I. what up to the boy B.I.
You know I handle B.I., I don't half step on a Kane
Ask the dreads 'bout I, how you gwaan so?

She like it hardcore, so I grind slow
Iller than Albee Square Mall back in the 9-0
My fine hoe we got some victims to catch
So in a couple years baby, I'm a bring you some Nets

Hello Brooklyn, how you doin'?
Where you goin'? Can I come to?
And if I can, I'm a be your man
You could be my lady and have my baby

And drive my car and drive me crazy
Wherever you goin', baby girl just take me
'Cause I'm so taken, if you taken
I'm just sayin' baby, I'm just sayin'

Hello Brooklyn
But but baby, you are the sweetest thing eyes could see
Hello Brooklyn
Baby, I hope you never say goodbye to me

I said, "Hello Brooklyn"
But baby, you are so damn fine to me
But I remember the time, place and the weather
On the day you said goodbye to me

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a1db0be63725d960cc99a0b27f34f61f

Z - Hello Brooklyn 2.0 - Lyrics - American Gangster - Jay

Title: Z - Hello Brooklyn 2.0
Album: American Gangster
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Derrick Baker, Dwayne Carter, Shawn C Carter, Michael Louis Diamond, Matt Dike, Adam Keefe Horovitz, John Robert King, Michael S Simpson, Adam Nathaniel Yauch

Lyric:
Hello Brooklyn

Hello Brooklyn, how you doin'?
Where you goin'? Can I come to?
And if I can, I'm a be your man
You could be my lady and have my baby

And drive my car and drive me crazy
Wherever you goin', baby girl just take me
'Cause I'm so taken, if you taken
I'm just sayin' baby, I'm just sayin'

Like a mama you birth me, Brooklyn you nursed me
Schooled me with hard knocks, better than Berkeley
They said you murked me by the time I was twenty one
That shit disturbed me but you never hurt me

Hello Brooklyn, if we had a daughter
Guess what I'm a call her, Brooklyn Carter
When I left you for Virginia, it didn't offend you
'Cause you know I only stepped out to get dinner

And I'm eatin', so much I bought extra
So much so the dinner's now turnin' to breakfast
I only roll Lexus, to hug your road
I love your corners, I'm half your soul

Hello Brooklyn, how you doin'?
Where you goin'? Can I come to?
And if I can, I'm a be your man
You could be my lady and have my baby

And drive my car and drive me crazy
Wherever you goin', baby girl just take me
'Cause I'm so taken, if you taken
I'm just sayin' baby, I'm just sayin'

Hello Brooklyn, what's your story?
She said, she eatin' on the run but she ain't N.O.R.E.
She said, she got a man but he ain't worried
But baby, I'm a have to Rob him like Horry

She said, she love B.I.G. and she like 2Pac
And when I said Jay-Z, she said it's The ROC
And I'm a leave it like this, like this like that
Where Brooklyn at? Where Brooklyn at?

Have you seen her?
And when she tell you somethin' you better believe her
She told me she like my New Orleans demeanor
And so I said, "Goodbye Katrina"

And hello Brooklyn
But baby you are the sweetest sight eyes could see
I said, ?Hello Brooklyn?
But baby I hope you never say goodbye to me

I said, ?Hello Brooklyn?
But but baby you are so damn fine to me
And I remember the time, place and the weather
On the day you said hi to me and let's say hello Brooklyn

Brooklyn we crazy, look how you made me
Razor blades in my mouth walkin' 'round behavin'
Or demented black hoodies and Timberlanded
Always schemin' you see the green on that niggas pendant

Hello Brooklyn, you bad influence, look what you had me doin'
But I ain't mad at you, look at my attitude
It says my life's too real, check out my ice grill
Baby I'm cold as ice, like I'm from Brownsville

But my Bed's in the Stuy, so while I Flatten your Bush
Till we smoke a C.I. what up to the boy B.I.
You know I handle B.I., I don't half step on a Kane
Ask the dreads 'bout I, how you gwaan so?

She like it hardcore, so I grind slow
Iller than Albee Square Mall back in the 9-0
My fine hoe we got some victims to catch
So in a couple years baby, I'm a bring you some Nets

Hello Brooklyn, how you doin'?
Where you goin'? Can I come to?
And if I can, I'm a be your man
You could be my lady and have my baby

And drive my car and drive me crazy
Wherever you goin', baby girl just take me
'Cause I'm so taken, if you taken
I'm just sayin' baby, I'm just sayin'

Hello Brooklyn
But but baby, you are the sweetest thing eyes could see
Hello Brooklyn
Baby, I hope you never say goodbye to me

I said, ?Hello Brooklyn?
But baby, you are so damn fine to me
But I remember the time, place and the weather
On the day you said goodbye to me

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7e4f0635c9f99d3a30f60b55fd3710ee

I Really Like It - Lyrics - Harlem World

Title: I Really Like It
Artist: Harlem World
Composer(s): William Randall De Barge, Pierre Jones, Larry Curtis Johnson, Michael Edwin Johnson, Etterlene Jordan, Mason Betha, Stason S Betha, Eldra P De Barge

Lyric:
You make me feel, it's the real thing girl
Talk about it, talk about it, what you want, huh?
One two, one two, Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
One two, one two, hah, hah, hah
One two, one two, yeah yeah yo, yo, yo

Yo, nowadays girls be out for the money and things
But to me it's all sweet when I'm runnin' my game
I give 'em nothing but game till it's stuck in their brain
So once it's stuck in they brain, yeah my funnin' began

I'm in the want-ad, lookin' for a special woman
That's gonna gimme what I need anytime I want it
I take a cruise to Aruba, I'll bring you wit me
Then let you float out on the beach with the string o' yo' 'G'

I need a pretty momma, silly momma, diddy poppa
Like that go to Great Adventure in they mini-chopper
That get her own chips, push her own six
And make me do my sits when I finish my dips

I like it, I like it, I really really like it
You want it and you know it
But you play hard to get boy

I like it, I like it, I really really like it
You want it and you know it
But you play hard to get boy

Yo, real chicks do real things
Like find a man wit' a deal that still wanna sling
Always speak my mind whenever I feel things
Probably got no wings but I'mma still swing

And my real chicks feel what I mean
Am I right? Am I tight? Do this chick bring it to the light?
Is my body so right? I could even attract a dyke
Uh Baby Stase, uh Baby Stase

While you was lovin' John Doe, I copped a condo
While you was layin' backs down, I was layin' tracks down
I see it for a fact now, it's intact now
It's no need to beef, it's my turn to eat

Bring the drama to a cease, cars I don't lease
I push a Green Z-3, watch a screen TV, what?
I'ma forever rise, rings be tetra-size
Girls be petrified, it's a heavy meza-ride

I like it, I like it, I really, really like it
You want it and you know it
But you play hard to get boy

I like it, I like it, I really, really like it
You want it and you know it
But you play hard to get boy

Yo, you better do what I say yo get this through your head-o
Long time comin', but waitin' for my date-o
My man Blake-o, leave the scene hardly awake-o
If he could take three shots, he could take four

I'm on the low though but wit a lot of dough though
And I hate a smart chick givin' me a dodo
That gimme mo' pleasin' and mo' reason
Just to lay up in Cali in the Four Season

Wit' a chick half Black, half Indonesian
Appalachian, I know this sound be unbelievin'
Switch the rim's on the Benz every four seasons
Open up a new account just to through G's in

Got Blink chick follow me for no reason
And my girl stick around if she know I'm cheatin', what?
Harlem World, Harlem World, the clique
Harlem World, the clique, come on now

I like it, I like it, I really, really like it
You want it and you know it
But you play hard to get boy

I like it, I like it, I really, really like it
You want it and you know it
But you play hard to get boy

I like it, I like it, I really, really like it
You want it and you know it
But you play hard to get boy

I like it, I like it, I really, really like it
You want it and you know it
But you play hard to get boy

I like it, I like it, I really, really like it
You want it and you know it
But you play hard to get boy

I like it, I like it, I really, really like it
You want it and you know it
But you play hard to get boy

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8630963347fee984820a2d8158c73fbd

Z - It Ain'T Personal - Lyrics - The Best Of Both Worlds (Jay-Z & R. Kelly) - Jay

Title: Z - It Ain'T Personal
Album: The Best Of Both Worlds (Jay-Z & R. Kelly)
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): R Kelly, G Washington, O'Kelly Isley, Chris Jasper, Shawn Carter, S Barnes, Ernie Isley, Ronald Isley, Rudolph Isley, Jc Olivier, Marvin Isley

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

Lyric:
Man, they go and tell me like
You never know who your true friends until you ah umm
Both got a little bit of money
I mean cause y'all both broke
Then there's no strain on the relationship, y'all both broke
And if you got money and he ain't got no paper
He still needs you so you'll never know how he really feel about you
When y'all both get some paper, you'll see

We used to get money together, phone honies together
Pushin chromed out twinkies in custom coach leather
You claim it's all love, but nigga it's whatever
Cause this is business, it ain't personal
Same dream, same team, same schemes (mm)
We even sold to the same damn fiends (how real is dat?)
Ain't no rules in this war for this green
This is business, and it ain't personal

Look, I'm a grown man dog
And I ain't got time to be runnin behind y'all
I know when I first started it was crazy to y'all
"He's gon' start his own label, he'll never be able"
Well, nigga you've been wrong before
And you'll be wrong again if you bet against him
We move through the hood like identical twins
But it just so happen that a nigga made it rappin
You showed your true colors, y'all niggaz stay yappin
That don't stop him, a nigga weigh platinum
Stop through the hood, to say what's happenin? (sup nigga)
Fake hugz (uh-huh) fake whassup
Fake love, fake fuck, fake thugs
Gotta one myself for your fake shit, I raise up
Hop in my wheels and I peel, streets are blazed up (uh-huh)
About my bid'ness dog, y'all need to stay up - one

We used to get money together, phone honies together
Pushin chromed out twinkies in custom coach leather
You claim it's all love, but nigga it's whatever
Cause this is business, it ain't personal
Same dream, same team, same schemes
We even sold to the same damn fiends
Ain't no rules in this war for this green
This is business, and it ain't personal

I wish, I wish - that success, we could all
Get a piece of it (word) but that ain't real dog (no)
Cause in these streets it's war, the industry much more
But rich or poor, I'ma keep it real my nigga
Invest in chips and watch my money hill get bigger
And do things like, pull up to some clubs
In the skirts with Jigga, and yellin out HEY
What the fuck, pop that Cris' my nigga
And then he wants to know how many chips I done sold
Well it ain't y'all business what's behind my doors
But y'all niggaz don't appreciate shit
Helped you out and you still actin like a little bitch
Then you wonder why I put yo' ass in the tenth row
When you asked me for some tickets to my TP-2 show
Lawwwwwwd tell me, why we don't like to see us grow

We used to get money together, phone honies together
Pushin chromed out twinkies in custom coach leather
You claim it's all love, but nigga it's whatever
Cause this is business, it ain't personal
Same dream, same team, same schemes
We even sold to the same damn fiends
Ain't no rules in this war for this green
This is business, and it ain't personal

A-Alike (uh-huh) be alike (that's right)
We don't vibe no more because we don't C/see alike
And your mom got it twisted, she think Hov' changed
NopeHov's still here like Rogaine
Ask your boy what he did to the Hov' game
How he jeapordized the whole game
Now when we see each other it's so strange
I don't know whether to hug him or slug him (damn)
I don't know whether to cap him or dap him
I don't know what to think of him, I don't know what's happenin
But what I do know, all the niggaz that you know
Locked up doin a few doe, but who knows?
Maybe it wasn't you, maybe I'm buggin too (right)
But I'm scared dog, I don't know what the fuck to do
Do me a favor, place yourself in my shoes
The game, no exceptions, gotta follow the rules

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73f0c7afdacacf48a71a9686427ed6d7

Get Clapped - Lyrics - Rotten Apple - Lloyd Banks

Title: Get Clapped
Album: Rotten Apple
Artist: Lloyd Banks
Composer(s): Khari Cain, Albert Johnson, Christopher Charle Lloyd

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

Lyric:
Front on me and get clapped
Front on him and get clapped
Front on us and get clapped
You get clapped n****

Front on me and get clapped
Front on him and get clapped
Front on us and get clapped
Get clapped, get clapped

I know this feel different 'cause everything is good
They actin' like I changed, like I went Hollywood
Like I don't keep it street, like I ain't got the heat
Like I ain't homicide all over the beat

Like I ain't for the beef, like I don't really care
'Cause I ain't camera shy we can do it anywhere
There's diamonds in my chain, there's diamonds in my ear
A n**** come slippin' I'll make him disappear

Ay n**** f*** all the slick talk, get bread instead
Stay low strapped up metal on inf red
Too smooth, won't slip, new jewels, don't trip
Been around the world twice jet, lear, boat, whip

Oh s***, I'm hella rowdy and I'm nothin' nice
Money ain't s*** but a number name ya f***in' price
D*** rider, coat Taylor, a** kisser, sucker for love
Type to pick up the glass slipper

Look around a** n**** before you add liquor
'Cause bein' an ad-libber he'll be in a bag with ya
I'm seein' a bad picture of bein' a cab skipper
Broke as f*** waitin' for Satan to come and get ya

Keep ya clique tight, know ya goals
Don't speed, slow ya role, don't speak, learn the codes
For they pop ya a** barbecue ya body with beans
Outta the shoty while I'm in the Maserati
With somethin' that's gonna swallow me

I know this feel different 'cause everything is good
They actin' like I changed, like I went Hollywood
Like I don't keep it street, like I ain't got the heat
Like I ain't homicide all over the beat

Like I ain't for the beef, like I don't really care
'Cause I ain't camera shy we can do it anywhere
There's diamonds in my chain, there's diamonds in my ear
A n**** come slippin' I'll make him disappear

My trigger finger feenin' that n**** P is a demon
N**** my fangs start showin' if I'm seein' you dreamin'
Get too close and I'm ****** it won't be no discussion
I'ma boss, I don't speak, I just nod my head

And you turn up missin' with ya own page in the feds
I got power and I will flex on you real quick
Call ya dawgs, call ya trick, hug ya momz for you split
'Cause you ain't never gone see that b**** again

And this ain't a war n**** we just havin' fun with ya
Like a bed with a baby, if I smack ya I might **** ya
Half a million in diamonds, half a billion from rhymin'
And I'm steady and climbin' that means I'm still growin' up

Got you burned while you lookin', see my Ferrari in Brooklyn
On the corner of murda and duke, so come through
I'll light ya buildin' on fire that's why these rappers retire
'Cause they tired of dealin' with the n****z like me

I know this feel different 'cause everything is good
They actin' like I changed, like I went Hollywood
Like I don't keep it street, like I ain't got the heat
Like I ain't homicide all over the beat

Like I ain't for the beef, like I don't really care
'Cause I ain't camera shy we can do it anywhere
There's diamonds in my chain, there's diamonds in my ear
A n**** come slippin' I'll make him disappear

Now enough with all the lame s*** and wrestlin' games, kid
I need the rocks to fill the rest of the chain with
I need the block to feel the best that I came with
I need the cops to get the f*** off of my d***

Different day, same s*** media and paparazzi love
Envy and betrayal, my heart's cold as hockey gloves
I light it up and take off that beef and broccoli high
Chocolate tie, green skunk, south Jamaica queens punk

Stand up ya boy's back put ya grams up
Get money you ain't heard nothin' but a hit from me
Quit dummy 'cause it's a changin' of the guards
Beat b****es over the head the caveman of the squad

And he barely fell victim 'cause they raised him up so hard
So my 9 is on my hip and my praise is up to God
'Cause we in a battlefield where the razors lead to scars
And the lasers lead to holes, s**** in n out ya clothes

I know this feel different 'cause everything is good
They actin' like I changed, like I went Hollywood
Like I don't keep it street, like I ain't got the heat
Like I ain't homicide all over the beat

Like I ain't for the beef, like I don't really care
'Cause I ain't camera shy we can do it anywhere
There's diamonds in my chain, there's diamonds in my ear
A n**** come slippin' I'll make him disappear

Hey, ayo P, I'll buck these n****z
Can't nobody else get no money?
This is our year, next year is our year
The year after is our year, the year after is our year
Yeah, G-Unit

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eb1626f6b8b4b2881e49931d707c88e4

Z - Somebody'S Girl - Lyrics - The Best Of Both Worlds (Jay-Z & R. Kelly) - Jay

Title: Z - Somebody'S Girl
Album: The Best Of Both Worlds (Jay-Z & R. Kelly)
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Robert Kelly, Jean Claude Olivier, Samuel J Barnes, Shawn Carter

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

Lyric:
The sixty second assassin
Track Mastahs
Turn that music up
Rockland
Hovah
Woo! Yes, yes

Somebody's girl is at this party
Shakin' that ass to this
Somebody's girl is at this party
Drink that glass of Cris', that's right

Somebody's girl is at this party
Sittin' in V.I.P.
Somebody's girl, yeah, is at this party, that's right
And she's comin' home with me

I don't mean no harm
But your boy young Hov' got a mean ol' arm
Got all the young ladies wanna lean on him
And I don't turn them away, I'm like bring them on

Now where's her man is not my concern
It's not what I'm worried about, I'm just tryin' to hurry her out
Clear her whole area out
And bring this whole party little near to my house

Now where's her spouse? I don't know
So, I don't ask, I don't probe
I just get in 6, get out on Rov'
Let her, sip on Cris', go out on tours

Now back at the lab, I'm actin' bad
'Cause the, pool is warm, a booze is on
Just a select few, the fools are gone
It's slow jams and the grooves is on, groove on

Somebody's girl is at this party
Shakin' that ass to this
Somebody's girl is at this party
Drink that glass of Cris'

Somebody's girl is at this party
Sittin' in V.I.P.
Somebody's girl is at this party
And she's comin' home with me

Is it my fault they call me young heat rock
Hard head, go through walls like sheet rock
And she's comin' with me, when the beat stop
When the party is done, I party with hon

Now is it my fault you neglect your broad
And she wanna party with me, no ex at all?
No ex-boyfriend, no ex involved
Just the highway exit that we exit off

And I fall back, I let her talk
I inquire sometime, I admire her mind
I like her wit, I'm lovin' her shoes
I'm a alternative rap, I'm playin' the blues

I'm a thorough street nigga never breakin' the rules
And her man's shortcomin' is turnin' me into somethin'
That of which she has never seen
So she wanna crossover where the grass is green, knahmean?

Somebody's girl is at this party
Shakin' that ass to this
Somebody's girl is at this party
Drink that glass of Cris'

Somebody's girl is at this party
Sittin' in V.I.P.
Somebody's girl is at this party
And she's comin' home with me

The moral of the story if you love your bitch
You better hold your hoe, hug your bitch
You better slow your roll, trick some bread
When she wanna go out, you like Craig and 'em said

"See ya when I see ya," now she's callin' me up
And I'm like, "Geah, of course I wanna chill"
Now she with the real, and you all fed
Like I'ma crack her motherfuckin' forehead

Somebody's girl is at this party
Shakin' that ass to this
Somebody's girl is at this party
Drink that glass of Cris'

Somebody's girl is at this party
Sittin' in V.I.P.
Somebody's girl is at this party
And she's comin' home with me

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a9addd87c261ee7bd7650966c8b2a4ac

Z - Ain'T No ***** - Lyrics - Unplugged - Jay

Title: Z - Ain'T No *****
Album: Unplugged
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Dennis Lambert, Tyrone Thomas, Shawn Carter, August Moon, Brian Potter

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

Lyric:
Foxy Brown
What? Jay-Z, what

I keep it fresher than the next bitch
No need for you to ever sweat the next bitch
With speed, I make the best bitch see the exit, indeed
You gotta know you're thoroughly respected by me

You get the keys to the Lexus with no driver
You gotcha own '96 suh-in, the ride
And keep your ass tighter than Versace, that's why
You gotta watch your friends you got to watch me, they connivin' shit

The first chance to crack the bank
They try me, all they get is 50 cent francs
And papayas, from the village to the tele
Time to kill it on your belly, no question
I got more black chicks between my sheets than Essence

They say sex is a weapon, so when I shoot
Meet your death in less than eight seconds
Still poundin' in my after life laughin', my shit is tight
Who you askin', right?

Ain't no nigga like the one I got
(No one can fuck you betta)
Sleeps around but he gives me a lot
(Keeps you in diamonds and leathers)

Friends'll tell me I should leave you alone
(Ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha)
Tell the freaks to find a man o' they own
Man o' they own, man o' they own
(Yea, yea)

Fresh to Def in Moschino, coach bag
Lookin' half black and Filipino, fakin' no jacks
Got you a beeper to feel important
Surroudin' your feet in Joanie Dega's and Charles Jordan

I keep ya dove but love
You know these ho's be makin' me weak
Y'all knows how it goes B and so I creep

I've been sinnin' since you been playin' wit Barbie and Ken 'n'
You can't change a player's game in the ninth innin'
The chrome rim spinnin' keeps 'em grinnin'
So I run way the fuck up in 'em and wrinkle the face like linen

I play hard-eh till they say God
He's keepin' it real, jigga, stay hard
Lawd, don't even trip
I never slip, nigga, get a grip

What you don't see is whatcha get
Weapons concealed, what the fuck y'all feel?
When you niggas play sick we can all get ill
(What the deal?)

Ain't no nigga like the one I got
(No one can fuck you betta)
Sleeps around but he gives me a lot
(Keeps you in diamonds and leathers)

Friends'll tell me I should leave you alone
(Ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha)
Tell the freaks to find a man o' they own
Man o' they own, man o' they own

Yo, ain't no stoppin' this, no lie
Promise to stay monogamous, I try
But love, you know these ho's be makin' me weak
Y'all knows how it goes B, so I stay deep

What up, boo? Just keep me laced in the illa snakes
Bank rolls and shit, back rubs in the French tub
Mackin' this bitch, wifee, nigga
So when you flip that coke, remember the days you was dead broke

But now you're style and I raised you
Basically, made you into a don
Flippin' weight, heroin and shit, you know the pussy is all that
That's why I get bagets five carats and all that

From Dolce Gabana to H Vendell, I'm ringin' bells
So who the playa? I still keep you in the illest gators
Tailor-made so we can lay up in the shade reminiscin'
On how I fuck the best o' shit

Specially when I'm flippin' Baileys
Don't give a fuck about how you move with them other mamis
I push da Z, eatin' shrimp scampi with rocks larger than life
Fuck them Reebok broads, you made it known who your wife was

I got you frontin' in Armani sweaters before this rap shit
When you was in levers and bullshit berettas
And eek classes with mo in the glasses, shows in Cali
Wit all the flavor suede Bally's

Now all your mens' up in your Benz's high post
I swear you be killin' me playin' inside my pubic hairs
I never worry 'bout them other chicks
'Cuz you proved who was your wiz when you was spinnin' that bitch

I took a little when you was up North, your comisary stay pilin'
How you livin' large on the island, all them collects have me vex
But when you come home
Knew I was comin' off wit half of dem checks

Now we on the rise, your diamond mami wit the slanted eyes
Holdin' this grip cocked the green and the shit
Fucks no, I see half o' the dough
Made you into a star, pushin' hundred thousand dollar cars

Ain't no nigga like the one I got
(No one can fuck you betta)
Sleeps around but he gives me a lot
(Keeps you in diamonds and leathers)

Friends'll tell me I should leave you alone
(Ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha)
Tell the freaks to find a man o' they own
Man o' they own, man o' they own

Ain't no nigga like the one I got
(No one can fuck you betta)
Sleeps around but he gives me a lot
(Keeps you in diamonds and leathers)
Friends'll tell me I should leave you alone

Play the MP3 online for free!

f87ead1937fe41747a1bb92409bb2830

Z - In My Lifetime - Lyrics - Jay

Title: Z - In My Lifetime
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Jay Burks, Shawn Carter, Hayden Brown, Beresford Romeo

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

Lyric:
This song here is dedicated to Danny Dan and may he rest in peace
Who at his funeral left us with the words that
He did it his way
(Uh huh, uh huh)
So I have no other choice but to do it my way
Uh huh, uh huh

Uhh, while niggaz are shootin' stupid
I'm carefully plottin' ways to make it rotten
Well, planned hits until you're long forgotten
Y'all niggaz that utilize my style don't hurt me

'Cause on the low half of these rappin' ass niggaz wanna work for me
Now picture me standin' on somebody block tryin' to rock
I drop bombs and niggaz see me with that dough by eight o'clock
My feet never touch the concrete, just street sweep awards

While you're starin' on my dick nigga, gimme yours
I don't hassle with capsules, 'cause that'll make the grass grow
And get a project nigga paid up the asshole
If I'ma risk a frisk, gettin' my wrists wrapped up in steel

I'm out here tryin' to make a mill', my shit is real for real
While others worship guns I worship tons of money
Tons of fun, laughin' at shit that ain't even funny
So I ain't pressed to make a CD, I took it slow

Eighty percent of these niggaz with deals
Can't see me with the dough, uh

In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of dough
I need a whole lot of dough
(For real)
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of stash
I need a whole lot of cash
(Stay real)

In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of dough
I need a whole lot of dough
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of stash
I need a whole lot of cash

(For real)
(True)
(True)

More ice than winter ninety-four
I toured the fifty states with a trunk of raw
Recrutin', I'm hittin' shorties with consignment but don't play me
Oh, you gon' pay me, y'all niggaz ain't crazy

I'm laid back in the five thousand Italian leather seat recliner
Under some vagina, discussin' the finer, things
My crib is mean, watchin' a hundred inch screen
Lettin' the shorties slide by once in a while and let 'em dream

They think I've mastered the game, 'cause dames scream my name
With passion, I tell 'em stop flashin' and start stashin'
And we'll all get off the corner, the only heat you'll feel
Is from a sauna, lettin' bubbles shoot up your ass if you wanna

And fuck that weed, it keeps you broke, invest in
Pounds of herbs and profit if niggaz wanna smoke dope
But keep your nuts, 'cause this is a man's game
And we'll all pop champagne till it's a damn shame

In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of dough
I need a whole lot of dough
(For real)
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of stash
I need a whole lot of cash
(Stay real)

In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of dough
I need a whole lot of dough
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of stash
I need a whole lot of cash

I'm shootin' to Vegas, gamblin' green-o at the casino
Schoolin' the dice like Vinny Barberino
Welcome back, the ninety-four version of the mack
As soon as these ladies see me they don't know how to act

'Cause like that, nigga, never twist the cap of malt liquor
Only pop and droppin' Cristal's down my throat, take a swigga
My style, ladies intoxicated by my profile
Your rollin' with a pro with, money to blow child

You need to feel how sweet the skills be
To come and slide down Sugar Hill with me
The high roller, rolled up on your dice game
Unfold a pack of bills, grab my balls then bet it all

I never slept, 'cause sleepin' keeps you deep in debt
On the block you lucky if you see my silhouette
I'm ghost, envied by most
So I keep a crew of crazy tenants that's sling toast, fucker

In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of dough
I need a whole lot of dough
(For real)
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of stash
I need a whole lot of cash
(Stay real)

In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of dough
I need a whole lot of dough
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of stash
I need a whole lot of cash

Haha, f'real, Jay-Z lives
Ski, Roc-a-Blok Productions, uh-huh, uh-huh
Dame Dash, ha-ha
Roc-a-fella Records, uh huh

Everybody from Brooklyn
Sauce Money, Big Sarge, B Hah
DJ Clark Kent, everybody Uptown
[Unverified] my V-A click running thick
D'Shawn definitely in the house
Roughness y'all, this how we do

Play the MP3 online for free!

ccce2c273f1d0e889a0e18987651c280

Z - In My Lifetime (Remix) - Lyrics - Jay

Title: Z - In My Lifetime (Remix)
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Jay Burks, Shawn Carter, Hayden Brown, Beresford Romeo

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

Lyric:
This song here is dedicated to Danny Dan and may he rest in peace
Who at his funeral left us with the words that
He did it his way
(Uh huh, uh huh)
So I have no other choice but to do it my way
Uh huh, uh huh

Uhh, while niggaz are shootin' stupid
I'm carefully plottin' ways to make it rotten
Well, planned hits until you're long forgotten
Y'all niggaz that utilize my style don't hurt me

'Cause on the low half of these rappin' ass niggaz wanna work for me
Now picture me standin' on somebody block tryin' to rock
I drop bombs and niggaz see me with that dough by eight o'clock
My feet never touch the concrete, just street sweep awards

While you're starin' on my dick nigga, gimme yours
I don't hassle with capsules, 'cause that'll make the grass grow
And get a project nigga paid up the asshole
If I'ma risk a frisk, gettin' my wrists wrapped up in steel

I'm out here tryin' to make a mill', my shit is real for real
While others worship guns I worship tons of money
Tons of fun, laughin' at shit that ain't even funny
So I ain't pressed to make a CD, I took it slow

Eighty percent of these niggaz with deals
Can't see me with the dough, uh

In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of dough
I need a whole lot of dough
(For real)
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of stash
I need a whole lot of cash
(Stay real)

In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of dough
I need a whole lot of dough
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of stash
I need a whole lot of cash

(For real)
(True)
(True)

More ice than winter ninety-four
I toured the fifty states with a trunk of raw
Recrutin', I'm hittin' shorties with consignment but don't play me
Oh, you gon' pay me, y'all niggaz ain't crazy

I'm laid back in the five thousand Italian leather seat recliner
Under some vagina, discussin' the finer, things
My crib is mean, watchin' a hundred inch screen
Lettin' the shorties slide by once in a while and let 'em dream

They think I've mastered the game, 'cause dames scream my name
With passion, I tell 'em stop flashin' and start stashin'
And we'll all get off the corner, the only heat you'll feel
Is from a sauna, lettin' bubbles shoot up your ass if you wanna

And fuck that weed, it keeps you broke, invest in
Pounds of herbs and profit if niggaz wanna smoke dope
But keep your nuts, 'cause this is a man's game
And we'll all pop champagne till it's a damn shame

In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of dough
I need a whole lot of dough
(For real)
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of stash
I need a whole lot of cash
(Stay real)

In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of dough
I need a whole lot of dough
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of stash
I need a whole lot of cash

I'm shootin' to Vegas, gamblin' green-o at the casino
Schoolin' the dice like Vinny Barberino
Welcome back, the ninety-four version of the mack
As soon as these ladies see me they don't know how to act

'Cause like that, nigga, never twist the cap of malt liquor
Only pop and droppin' Cristal's down my throat, take a swigga
My style, ladies intoxicated by my profile
Your rollin' with a pro with, money to blow child

You need to feel how sweet the skills be
To come and slide down Sugar Hill with me
The high roller, rolled up on your dice game
Unfold a pack of bills, grab my balls then bet it all

I never slept, 'cause sleepin' keeps you deep in debt
On the block you lucky if you see my silhouette
I'm ghost, envied by most
So I keep a crew of crazy tenants that's sling toast, fucker

In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of dough
I need a whole lot of dough
(For real)
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of stash
I need a whole lot of cash
(Stay real)

In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of dough
I need a whole lot of dough
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of stash
I need a whole lot of cash

Haha, f'real, Jay-Z lives
Ski, Roc-a-Blok Productions, uh-huh, uh-huh
Dame Dash, ha-ha
Roc-a-fella Records, uh huh

Everybody from Brooklyn
Sauce Money, Big Sarge, B Hah
DJ Clark Kent, everybody Uptown
[Unverified] my V-A click running thick
D'Shawn definitely in the house
Roughness y'all, this how we do

Play the MP3 online for free!

b0d755d1d2cbd8bb5e740b1100d20bcb

Z - Ain'T No Nigga - Foxy Brown - Lyrics - Bring It On: The Best Of - Jay

Title: Z - Ain'T No Nigga - Foxy Brown
Album: Bring It On: The Best Of
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Dennis Lambert, Tyrone Thomas, Shawn Carter, August Moon, Brian Potter

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

Lyric:
Foxy Brown
What? Jay-Z, what

I keep it fresher than the next bitch
No need for you to ever sweat the next bitch
With speed, I make the best bitch see the exit, indeed
You gotta know you're thoroughly respected by me

You get the keys to the Lexus with no driver
You gotcha own '96 suh-in, the ride
And keep your ass tighter than Versace, that's why
You gotta watch your friends you got to watch me, they connivin' shit

The first chance to crack the bank
They try me, all they get is 50 cent francs
And papayas, from the village to the tele
Time to kill it on your belly, no question
I got more black chicks between my sheets than Essence

They say sex is a weapon, so when I shoot
Meet your death in less than eight seconds
Still poundin' in my after life laughin', my shit is tight
Who you askin', right?

Ain't no nigga like the one I got
(No one can fuck you betta)
Sleeps around but he gives me a lot
(Keeps you in diamonds and leathers)

Friends'll tell me I should leave you alone
(Ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha)
Tell the freaks to find a man o' they own
Man o' they own, man o' they own
(Yea, yea)

Fresh to Def in Moschino, coach bag
Lookin' half black and Filipino, fakin' no jacks
Got you a beeper to feel important
Surroudin' your feet in Joanie Dega's and Charles Jordan

I keep ya dove but love
You know these ho's be makin' me weak
Y'all knows how it goes B and so I creep

I've been sinnin' since you been playin' wit Barbie and Ken 'n'
You can't change a player's game in the ninth innin'
The chrome rim spinnin' keeps 'em grinnin'
So I run way the fuck up in 'em and wrinkle the face like linen

I play hard-eh till they say God
He's keepin' it real, jigga, stay hard
Lawd, don't even trip
I never slip, nigga, get a grip

What you don't see is whatcha get
Weapons concealed, what the fuck y'all feel?
When you niggas play sick we can all get ill
(What the deal?)

Ain't no nigga like the one I got
(No one can fuck you betta)
Sleeps around but he gives me a lot
(Keeps you in diamonds and leathers)

Friends'll tell me I should leave you alone
(Ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha)
Tell the freaks to find a man o' they own
Man o' they own, man o' they own

Yo, ain't no stoppin' this, no lie
Promise to stay monogamous, I try
But love, you know these ho's be makin' me weak
Y'all knows how it goes B, so I stay deep

What up, boo? Just keep me laced in the illa snakes
Bank rolls and shit, back rubs in the French tub
Mackin' this bitch, wifee, nigga
So when you flip that coke, remember the days you was dead broke

But now you're style and I raised you
Basically, made you into a don
Flippin' weight, heroin and shit, you know the pussy is all that
That's why I get bagets five carats and all that

From Dolce Gabana to H Vendell, I'm ringin' bells
So who the playa? I still keep you in the illest gators
Tailor-made so we can lay up in the shade reminiscin'
On how I fuck the best o' shit

Specially when I'm flippin' Baileys
Don't give a fuck about how you move with them other mamis
I push da Z, eatin' shrimp scampi with rocks larger than life
Fuck them Reebok broads, you made it known who your wife was

I got you frontin' in Armani sweaters before this rap shit
When you was in levers and bullshit berettas
And eek classes with mo in the glasses, shows in Cali
Wit all the flavor suede Bally's

Now all your mens' up in your Benz's high post
I swear you be killin' me playin' inside my pubic hairs
I never worry 'bout them other chicks
'Cuz you proved who was your wiz when you was spinnin' that bitch

I took a little when you was up North, your comisary stay pilin'
How you livin' large on the island, all them collects have me vex
But when you come home
Knew I was comin' off wit half of dem checks

Now we on the rise, your diamond mami wit the slanted eyes
Holdin' this grip cocked the green and the shit
Fucks no, I see half o' the dough
Made you into a star, pushin' hundred thousand dollar cars

Ain't no nigga like the one I got
(No one can fuck you betta)
Sleeps around but he gives me a lot
(Keeps you in diamonds and leathers)

Friends'll tell me I should leave you alone
(Ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha)
Tell the freaks to find a man o' they own
Man o' they own, man o' they own

Ain't no nigga like the one I got
(No one can fuck you betta)
Sleeps around but he gives me a lot
(Keeps you in diamonds and leathers)
Friends'll tell me I should leave you alone

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33b961f58327228e2a2e8ef64c777a6e

Kwon - U Ain'T Gotta Like Me - Lyrics - Hood Hop - J

Title: Kwon - U Ain'T Gotta Like Me
Album: Hood Hop
Artist: J
Composer(s): Mark Williams, Jerrell C Jones, Joe Kent

Lyric:
I'm gettin' sick and tired, yeah
I'm gettin' sick and tired
Very sick and tired, homie

If I had a Coupe right now, it would be on E
Sometimes I feel unpretty than TLC
Raise your hands motherfucker if you feel like me
Live like me and you know what's real like me
Spit for the cats who ain't got none and humble too
But damn, fuck I'm sick and humble too
It ain't over, it just feel like it crumble boo
Now since you, shit I wanna rumble too

Now if you're sick and tired, say it quick, say it proud
If you're sick and tired, say it now, say it loud
Finally got the crowd to poppin', ain't afraid of coppin'
Every reppin' St. Louis and ain't stoppin'
I'm sick and tired of this lame brain shit
Kwon gettin' money, nah Kwon gettin' fits
Say whatever you say, how you say it's about me
How can this crowd be sick and tired without me?

You ain't gotta like me
I ain't gotta like you
And I ain't gotta like you
You ain't gotta like me
And you ain't gotta like me
I ain't gotta like you
First time it's fuck me
Then nigga it's fuck you

You ain't gotta like me
I ain't gotta like you
And I ain't gotta like you
You ain't gotta like me
And you ain't gotta like me
I ain't gotta like you
First time it's fuck me
Then nigga it's fuck you

I've been bamboozled, too many times for fuckin' losin'
Dogg I'm sick and I'm sick and tired of you dudes
Keep a deuce deuce tucked in the roof
Fuck a stash in the car, I got hash in the car
Look at ass they chick, I got ass in they jar
I'm tired of these hoes tryin' to tell Kwon to go and rob
I'm a gangsta motherfucker, fuck who you are
I told you Kwon to drink it then piss on the bar

I don't give a damn and you niggaz know it
Dirty you pussy and when you pussy, J-Kwon gon' show it
Guns I hold it, and you don't want to get to trippin'
One squeeze of the trigger, err body limpin'
I'm from a block, where err body Crippin'
Err body sniffin' and err body pimpin'
J-Kwon and Track Boyz, this is the take off
And dude, I'm sick and tired until this shit take off

You ain't gotta like me
I ain't gotta like you
And I ain't gotta like you
You ain't gotta like me
And you ain't gotta like me
I ain't gotta like you
First time it's fuck me
Then nigga it's fuck you

You ain't gotta like me
I ain't gotta like you
And I ain't gotta like you
You ain't gotta like me
And you ain't gotta like me
I ain't gotta like you
First time it's fuck me
Then nigga it's fuck you

I'm hot summin' like Jay-Z
(Yah' mean?)
How's that? 'cause I clap
(Yah' mean?)
It back
(Yah' mean?)
Strapped
(Hella green)
Man you know they clap
(Yah' mean?)
Keep a stash in the dash, put out I'm rollin'
Bought or stolen, I'm Hollywood like Hulk, Hogan
Cardboard niggaz they too often to start, foldin'
Don't get mad at me 'cause a chick jaw, swollen
'Cause I keep gettin' heaters
(Yeah)

I'm like Maxa million, I'll make you smack yourself with ya dick beaters
You're click's sweeter, you don't have the time niggaz
On the block, he don't never wanna battle rhyme niggaz
Perceivin' me right huh? I shine like a light what?
Diamonds so bright, I brought light to the night club
Fuckin' wit Kwon, you must really like slugs
I'm the black Brad Pitt and this is the Fight Club

You ain't gotta like me
I ain't gotta like you
And I ain't gotta like you
You ain't gotta like me
And you ain't gotta like me
I ain't gotta like you
First time it's fuck me
Then nigga it's fuck you

You ain't gotta like me
I ain't gotta like you
And I ain't gotta like you
You ain't gotta like me
And you ain't gotta like me
I ain't gotta like you
First time it's fuck me
Then nigga it's fuck you

Ya under, ya dig what I'm sayin'?
You see what I'm sayin'?
I'm truly blessed right now, you know
J-Kwon nigga, I'm hot nigga
I told y'all I was gettin' hot
I'm wit my man Big B nigga
It's Show off nigga
Show off

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Lovely Daze / Memory Lane - Lyrics - On My Way to Church - Jim Jones

Title: Lovely Daze / Memory Lane
Album: On My Way to Church
Artist: Jim Jones
Composer(s): Chad Hamilton, Jim Jones, Ryan Presson

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

Lyric:
Okay, okay
(Hey)
Yeah, we back in this bitch, I hate it
(Lovely Daze like this, like this)
Jim Jones nigga
(You know)
Capo Status
(Coofie smacka)

Aka Jim Caso
(Lovely painter)
And I jus' love it man
(Lovely daze like this)
I love paintin' these pictures for the hood, you dig
(That's where I'm at Eastside)
It's Dip-Set, Eastside, let's ride
(Come on)

They got me livin' like
(What)
I ain't worried 'bout my well bein'
I used to hurry up and sell fee
(2 for 5)
Like I ain't worried for the jail scene
(Fuck cops)
'Til I got knocked, yeah, observed in my cell C
(Ya honor)

I was young and was restless
Run around wit' my gun and my vestes
Yeah, I'm hungry and reckless
(What)
But no one better test us
(No way)
'Cause I got nuttin' to lose, suttin' to prove
I'm screamin' Eastside
(Eastside)

While I dump on you dudes
(Dip-Set)
And what we live by
(Yeah)
What we gon' die by
(Dip-Set)
So these rules I abide by

I'm duckin' shots on a drive by, finger the cops
Yeah, when they ride by
(Byrdgang)
Squally, is what they scream, fuck it
As I polly wit my team, puff it, we on the scene rugged
Yeah, we get our green thuggin'
Fuck it, I scream out, yo, I'm, uh, G, fuck it
(Fuck it)

Lovely daze like this, I miss, I miss
(Lovely daze man, when I say)
(Lovely daze I'm talkin' 'bout)
Lovely daze like this, I miss, I miss
(Fresh in high School, fresh with that freedom)
(You know explorin' the streets nigga)

Lovely daze like this, I miss, I miss
(You know, takin' no prisoners man)
(Ready to do whatever whenever)
Lovely daze like this, I miss, I miss
(Fuck, what they talkin' 'bout man)
(You jus' doin, you man, find yaself)

You know how kids scheme
(How they scheme?)
We had big dreams
(Yeah)
Of coppin' them Benzez up on big scene
(Bling, bling)
All glittered in jewels just like Liberraci
(Mmm)

Look at my dipped posse
(Yeah)
Look how this shit done, got me
(Crazy)
I'm some paranoid shit
(Yop)
It's kinda scary I carry the 4 fifth
(Who want it)

It's kinda brazy that it be like that
It ain't no play me and you be right back
You better blaze me if it be like that
(Get me nigga)
They got some issues with views I got
(Uh huh)
I carry pistols when I cruise my block
(Let's ride)
It's a issue, if I cruise ya block
My dogs, 'ill get you, know the rules or not
(What up, now fool)

Uh, yeah, we will cruise ya parameters
(Where they at?)
You caught slippin' no rules or parameters
(Where they at?)
Yeah fuck the crews, fuck the cameras
(Fuck police)
I tell you now, ain't no dudes that can handle us
(Bull that)

Lovely daze like this, I miss, I miss
(Okay, now it done got lovlier, you know)
(We done did the hustlin' thing)
Lovely daze like this, I miss, I miss
(We done had fun on the streets)
(Now we entered the game and we gettin' millions)

Lovely daze like this, I miss I miss
(What's more lovlier than that? I'm tellin' you)
(I'm lovin' this shit. It ain't no takin' me back man)
Lovely daze like this, I miss
(I'm tellin' you man, it's lovely daze)
(From here on end, you hear me)

Can't forget about my born pos'
(Nope)
Can't forget about my night gangs
Get it all to the dice game
(Yeah)
Bet, I brawl wit' my light frame
(Fo' sho)
I get it on like I'm Tysane
(Let's brawl)

And every year more niggaz deceased
(R.I.P.)
I shed a tear and pour liquor on streets
(Jus' fo' you)
And burn a fear to raw spliffs of the leaf
(And get high)
And say a prayer, Lord, where's the relief?
(My dudes)

I'm burnin' purple jus' watchin' my ghetto birds
(Okay)
And peep the circle I'll tell you its several birds
(Peep game)
We gettin' guac, we hustlin' peddle birds
(That yae)

And fuck the cops, we bustin' our metal birds
(Desert Eag'z)
We from the block, we love our Stiletto birds
(Hey baby)
That's why we hustle and grind so we can pluck us a dime
And feed her some game and fuck up her mind
And she give me brain, I'm puffin' my lime, so lovely
(Dip-Set)

Lovely daze like this
Wit my Dips, with my Dips
Fuckin' wit my Dips
Wit my Dips, gettin' chips
Fuckin' wit my Dips
My Dips, buyin' whips
Jus' fuckin' wit my Dips, my Dips

Yeah, it's lovely daze man
(That's right)
Jim Jones, fuck it shit, Capo Status
What's fuckin' wit that man?
(Coofie smacka)
For my Dip-Set, from hear on end, it's lovely daze
That's what this song is about
(That's it, that's it)
For my riders, ride out, fireman

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