Here We Go Again - Lyrics - Cha Cha

Title: Here We Go Again
Artist: Cha Cha
Composer(s): Milk Dee Lana Moorer, Carlos Thornton, Parris Fluellen, Benny Tillman

Lyric:
What? What?
Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh

Hot damn hoe shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe shut the fuck up, here we go again

I ain't the broad you want to curse out
Rip what's in the purse out
Oh yeah, you ain't heard how
The baby got nerve now

She think I like homie
Putting her ice-grill on me
Nice build on him and I might feel naughty
But I feel for him, when it's said too fake

Now he throwing me light meals
When he can't even pay my light bills for me
I ain't enticed lil' homie, got ice bills, show me
'Coz this nice deal holds me to this acting field nosy

I ain't the broad you wanna beef wit'
Better use what you sleep wit'
That language that you speak wit'
Will make you lose your teeth quick

Crushed velvet and sequins
You broads are just the cheapest
Same chick Kim said, ?You'd find down at Freak Nic?
Hush puppy muse, oh enough I'm amused

Same chickens in sessions around Jagged & Absolute
Studio groupies is what I call that
Say it, 'cause that's how y'all act
Same chickens on the bra-strap
Actin' like we go all back, yo

Hot damn hoe shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe shut the fuck up, here we go again

Is it 'cause big girls be tough
Beneath the C-cups
Pull up to your club
Ten deep, three trucks

Rovers for the winner
With the seats heating up
Oh, the tint too dark
What's wrong can't see enough

'Cause hell when I show up
Didn't expect me to blow up
Advance like Boa
Now I want you to throw up

'Cause I'm the type of broad
That set a goal, reach a goal
Say three, 'cause it's reasonable
Then go gold, just regional, so

Hot damn hoe shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe shut the fuck up, here we go again

Oh, this where you broads gonna piss me
What you got against me?
Mr. Man stand wit' me
Get back you all quizzy

Call me charged as if I'm guilty, in a minute
I'ma simply snap my finger like a sissy
Tell 'em all where to kiss me
In the club, same thing

Now ain't that a coincidence
Now I'm the one you spill your drink on
Clumsy with chrissy, chrissy
These broads are fake, I know
But they gon' face cha though

I'm in a lace condod
Ballin' down the Lake Tahoe
Fellas with broads is trife now
But it costs my lifestyle

Sitting steady for a while
Just to figure your wives out
Put an end to these fits
Makin' it with a long kiss

Make her jam meet these fists
She f'ed with the wrong chick
Astonished, you want this
I promise I won't miss

And I get, miss, who she wit'?
Ice grillin' accomplice
She modeling from the Explorer
Think my man ex-whore

Had run-ins with her before
But this time here's what I told her
You know what?

Hot damn hoe shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up

Hot damn hoe shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up

Hot damn hoe shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe shut the fuck up, here we go again

Thank you for making me who I am, thank you

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Shut The Eff Up! - Lyrics - Mc Lyte

Title: Shut The Eff Up!
Artist: Mc Lyte
Composer(s): Kirk Robinson, Lana Moorer, Nathaniel V Robinson Jr.

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

Lyric:
I think it's time I start feeling bitchy
I've been too nice, too long
Yup, it's definitely time I get nasty

Gon' be some shit
Hot damn hoe
Gon' be some shit
Hot damn hoe
Gon' be some shit
Hot damn hoe
Hot damn hoe
Gon' be some shit
Hot damn

Before this jam starts, I'm simply stating
You have all waited, now you can stop waiting
Shall I ease into the disses, go 20, then 30
Or shall I got straight to 80%?
Aw, it doesn't matter, when you're dissed, you're dissed
The party's not over, it's just beginnin'
Because Lyte is winning, what are you winning?
Any battle in any competition

'The Gangstress' ha, you're on a wack journey
Hoe headed for nowhere, with time to spare
So I'ma kick this rhyme right now and right here
I'd tell your name, but that would give you fame
And I ain't out to give you what you don't have
So, I sit back and relax, 'cause it makes me laugh
I could diss, call you names and make fun of you

Hoe but me the Lyte, I'm into speakin' the truth
Like a watchtower, hour by the hour
Lyte is rhymin', perfect timin'
Milk keeps the beat, I keep the beat
With the tap of his feet, with the tap of my feet
When he count it down
When I count it down, 6, 7, 8, Lyte'll start the debate

Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Here we, here we
Gon' be some shit
Here we go again

The first thing you ask yourself is why do I bother?
When you should really ask
?Where is the father of your child, aren't we wild??
You get around like a cab, now that's too bad
Everyone has been in you, isn't that sad, bodily vibrations?
Don't make me laugh, weight watchers is waiting
Here's a free pass, you ain't gettin' loose, you fuckin' jerk
And you ain't gettin' paid, you're just gettin' laid

Sexin' and suckin', yeah, that is your trade
Put on this earth just to distract me
Get those to write rhymes and try to attack me
You will get nowhere, the Lyte is too blinding
Tell me, why must I keep reminding
You to step back, let the Lyte shine
Do not take shit till you write your own rhymes

Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Here we, here we
Gon' be some shit
Here we go again

Your mold is fake, Crayola, crayon
Don't dare to sleep or even prey on
The Lyte is too wicked, too worthy, too strong
And the rhymes I create are made to last long
Let me wise you up, rappin' isn't a sport

You either have to teach yourself, or you have to be taught
And being that you are not wise enough to do it on your own
The ones that write your rhymes might
As well hold your microphone
Dropped a little vinyl, now you think you're large
Step aside, Lyte Thee MC is in charge

Don't sleep on me, I'm far, far, far from dumb
So roll correctly if you decide to come
MC sucker, this is what you waited for
I'm sick of the battle, let's go to war
Why do you challenge me, Lyte Thee MC
Did not you know that I am crazy?

My screws are quite loose, in fact I don't have any
But when it comes to rhymes, I've got many
Like I said and will have to say
Over and over, 'cause you disobey
Here on this earth, I reign superior
One of these days, I will have to get with ya
Tear you up mentally, from limb to limb
'Cause I am the Lyte, and you are just paper thin

Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Here we, here we
Gon' be some shit
Here we go again

I sensed it, predicted it, knew it would happen
You plopped off fast on the scene and start rappin'
Now it is my duty, to all MC's
To ask you to go elsewhere, pronto, please
Now I was quite polite, nice I may add
But you insist on stayin', that makes me mad
But then again I don't mind, I've got someone to pick on

Write rhymes to diss and even play tricks on
You ain't really down, you wig-wearin' clown
Burrowin' money to buy an outfit
Not even good enough for a Sunday picnic
I ask you, do you know who you're fuckin' with
With those bubble gum jeans and those 2 for 1 skips?

I'm MC Lyte a.k.a. MC Payback
Payback is a bitch, and I'm givin' you no slack
Unfinished business, that shit was wack
So Lyte made no attempt to strike back
But here we go again, what is Light's Out?
Let me ask what the bomboclut you a chat about?
Let me say next time that you feel pissed
I suggest that you don't try to diss

Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Here we here we
Gon' be some shit
Here we go again

You better watch what you say to me, 'cause I can get evil
The things that I'm capable of are unbelievable
In 10%, I popped your head in a microwave
I'm into blenders now, so you better behave
Or put you in a toaster, because you're gettin' toasted
Better yet an oven, because you're gettin' roasted
Don't listen to your rhyme writers, 'cause yo, they souped you

You ain't dope, you can't cope, they musta dooked you
You musta had some wack crack real wack crack
Sent you on a mission, and now you're comin' back
But let me school ya, Lyte is runnin' this show
So yo, hoe, I think you oughta go
Before Lyte Thee MC gets into it
But remember, you forced me to do it

Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Hot damn hoe
Shut the fuck up
Here we, here we
Gon' be some shit
Here we go again

Yo, now you know
And no one's have to battle
Slime

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9b02662df20a6d35d5879af454553ff3

Hot Damn - Lyrics - Clipse

Title: Hot Damn
Artist: Clipse
Composer(s): Chad Hugo, East Rennard Terrence Thornton, Pharrell Williams, Amir Porter, Bryan Williams, Gene Thornton

Lyric:
Now, they saying we're too hot
New verses please, c'mon Malice

Hot damn, it's a new day
Hot damn, but them boys want the money man
Uh-huh of course, 'fore you say what you say, hot damn

My, how the boys roam, from roaming,
Loc and come home, to homes of his own
No catching up he's in a whole 'nother zone
Still true to his roots, stay close to the chrome

Haters stay clear of him, y'all stand cheer for him
Got up out the game and overcame, let's hear it for him
Keep a new toy, so, I wonder how could
I not enjoy life, I'm re-living my childhood

Big chain monsta, whip game bonkas
Monster truck remind him of Tonka
Diamond F color, plush gold still gutter
My dealer's in the mills motherfuck' and I ain't studder

Bitter sweet, my life's a musical
From holding those to Bose gold, the Lord's beautiful
Before him I'm too shamed to show my face
But shit's so, mean I can't help but to fall from grace, motherfucker

Hot damn, it's a new day
Hot damn, but them boys want the money man

Hot damn, when the white hit the pan it
Twists and it tumbles it, flips and the fumbles
I mix it like Gumbo, I pitch it so subtle
I keep hustlers puzzled, Feds I got em wondering
(Wondering)

'What Happened To That boy'
Six maneuver, how'd I slip into that toy
Is it the pimp, the crook, the hustling thing
The man, the music that making a king

I'm simply building my Ming
A million men marchin' like condom [unverified]
I'm the King Kong, my verse making the world sing
My heart's on the sleeve for

Your face is just like mine
Peeking from bars hoping the sun shines on 'em
But, you still got to watch the phonies
Watch your homies, we got you homie

Hot damn, it's a new day
Hot damn, but them boys want the money man

Uhh, handle the rock like none other
Grits over the stove, head under the cupboard
In the kitchen till the fume make me feel smothered
The way it melt fiends, can't believe it's not butter

The way it melt he won't cop from none other
The he who holds O's like Krispy Kreme's oven
Or easy bake, pink divvies make
The presidential should look like strawberry shortcake, P

Imagine that Rolls Royce crashed in, me unscratched in
That millionaire boys club fashion
Uh, you niggas is clones
I hand out styles like ice cream cones, the fuck outta here

That's Pha real, my gats is real
The SL5 is lookin' like the Batmobile
Chrome lids with the matching wheels
Uh, both chains probably match ya deal
Y'all dudes is an act fa real, Pusha

Hot damn, it's a new day
Hot damn, but them boys want the money man

Neither the sun or death can be looked at
That's what an O.G told me
That was the exact moment I decided to take a pact
And if you owe me and if I decided to take it back

It wasn't nicely expect Rosco to put you back, in place
I'm what you call a destructive warpath
It'll be a shell shower in today's forecast
You a gangsta? I can't tell

You diamonds don't glimmer when the light hit it
Those jewels aren't genuine, 'cause if they was I'm nice with it
I woulda' been took that
That skinny stack in your pocket, I woulda' been shook that

In this world you gotta watch it, I'm hear to warn ya
Cats turned informant, over snow wrapped in wax
My son's home crying, don't give me no slack
Just put the motherfucking money in the bag

These words are being said as I hide behind glove and mask
Coat change not your typical crook
I'm being watched look at the camera lens in the bush

Hot damn, it's a new day
Hot damn, but them boys want the money man

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cc01550ec78bb2781fdbc2d0d9041309

Jamboree - Lyrics - Naughty By Nature

Title: Jamboree
Artist: Naughty By Nature
Composer(s): Keir Gist, Vincent Vinnie Brown, Anthony Criss, Benny Golson

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

Lyric:
I wanna see y'all, who wanna plan with me
Wave your hands across the land if we family
Say hot-damn, hot-damn, we wanna jamboree
This for my peeps here, I stand for you 'cause you stand for me

C'mon I know I jam, I know I jam jam, while oh damn
I know I jam, I know I jam jam boree
I know I jam, I know I jam jam
Well oh damn, why don't you jamboree for me?
Yes, indeed

Kaboom kaboom, the platoon came on in eight limbs and timbs
Broke rims, smoked sims, whoop dogs with bent rims
For the real and the raw, from who'd up with the law
I never kill for the thrill, but I cut for the cars
Smokin' buddha with a hoota', get better prices from looters
Shake my shell with the shooters, leed a luga with duga
Some say modelin' and acting mean treach is selling

While I'm yelling, first a felon with my gat at ya melon
Hella heated, too ill for them to beat it
Most cheated, most weeded, most needed, you best believe it
Let's take the tapes jam for me, stand for me
You're damned to be without the Jamboree

C'mon I know I jam, I know I jam jam, while oh damn
I know I jam, I know I jam jam boree
I know I jam, I know I jam jam
Well oh damn, why don't you jamboree for me?
Yes, indeed

We've put it down since the days of high school
And everywhere we mark we rule
Naughty's about to raise our stock
And we didn't come to brag about what we got nigga
We came to rock
We blew the spot taking the streets to pac
You'd be thug-style for a while
Then cold rolled our jock

Using them last few years as our evidence
Niggas been tryin' to duplicate the mixture ever since
You live in value reprimanded, if you challenge me I guarantee
When we finish, I'll be the last man standing
Fuck what you heard, Naughty is forever in demand
When Kay drop tracks, all the party people jammin'

I wanna see y'all, who wanna plan with me
Wave your hands across the land if we family
Say hot-damn hot-damn, we wanna jamboree
This for my peeps here, I stand for you 'cause you stand for me

C'mon I know I jam, I know I jam jam, while oh damn
I know I jam, I know I jam jam boree
I know I jam, I know I jam jam
Well oh damn, why don't you jamboree for me?
Yes, indeed

I ask the thugs who have mercy in these days is dirty
I'm still sturdy and flirty till my derby for jersey
The funk is pass booted, lights, camera, shoot it
I just did it to do it, that's why I suit it and boot it
Here's the graphic, niggas is just a tattered and added
Orgy's are automatic from back-traffic to addicts
Crush the cabbage straight from the savage to lavish
We rip those who rat it, thats why your click had it
Dog, cats to coochies, for me it's lootchies, then hootchies

'Cause we'll drop a cuzzie that leaves your whole label woozy
And shitty and dizzy because your whole city miss me
They whip out their titties and from they kiddies throw me
50's in bundles of 100's, and make every hater want it
Drunk and blunt it knock onto the hottest nigga comin'
Kay scratch and cut ya, no matta what you make 'em
Wanna come and touch her, the punani rusher like Usher

C'mon I know I jam, I know I jam jam, while oh damn
I know I jam, I know I jam jam boree
I know I jam, I know I jam jam
Well oh damn, why don't you jamboree for me?
Yes, indeed

C'mon I know I jam, I know I jam jam, while oh damn
I know I jam, I know I jam jam boree
I know I jam, I know I jam jam
Well oh damn, why don't you jamboree for me?
Yes, indeed

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767998cc067f82c1fcd554e68871a0cd

10% Dis - Lyrics - Mc Lyte

Title: 10% Dis
Artist: Mc Lyte
Composer(s): Kirk Robinson, Lana Moorer, Milk Dee, Dj Gizmo, Mc Lyte, Nathaniel V Robinson Jr.

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

Lyric:
Hot damn, hot damn, hot damn, hot damn
Hot damn, hot damn hoe, here we go again
Suckers steal a beat, when you know they can?t win
You stole the beat, are you havin' fun?
Now, me and the Aud?s gonna show you how it?s done

You are what I label as a, nerver plucker
You?re pluckin' my nerves, you MC sucka
I thought I oughta tell you, better yet warn
That I am like a stop, and my word is Bond

Like James, killin' everybody in sight
The code?s three-six, the name is Lyte
After this jam, I really don?t give a damn
'Cause I?ma run and tell your whole damn clan, that you?re a

Beat biter, dope style taker
Tell you to your face, you ain?t nuttin' but a faker
Beat biter, dope style taker
Tell you to your face, you ain?t nuttin' but a faker
(Hit me why don?tcha, hit me why don?tcha?)

Milk?s bodyguard, is my bodyguard too
You wanna get hurt, well this is what you do
You put your left foot up, and then your right foot next
Follow instructions, don?t lose the context
Thirty days a month your mood is rude
We know the cause of your bloody attitude

Beat biter, dope style taker
Tell you to your face, you ain?t nuttin' but a faker
Beat biter, dope style taker
Tell you to your face, you ain?t nuttin' but a faker

Your style is smooth, even for a cheatin' mic
You shoulda won applause as a Rakim sound-alike
Here?s a milkbone, a sign of recognition
Don?t turn away, I think you should listen close
Don?t boast, you said you wasn?t braggin'
You fuckin' liar, you?re chasin' a chuckwagon

The only way you learn you have to be taught
That if a beat is not for sale, then it can?t be bought
When you leave the mic, you claim it?s smokin'
Unlike Rakim, you are a joke
And I think you oughta stop, before you gets in too deep
'Cause with a sister like Lyte, yo, I don?t sleep

Beat biter, dope style taker
Tell you to your face, you ain?t nuttin' but a faker
Beat biter, dope style taker
Tell you to your face, you ain?t nuttin' but a faker

When I?m in a jam, with my homegirl Jill
My cousin Trey across the room with a posse to kill
So I step in the middle, shake it just a little
Wait for some female to step up and pop junk
Give my cousin a cue, treat the girl like a punk

Now I?m not tryin' to say that I?m into static
But yo, if you cause it, yup, we gotta have it
'Cause I ain?t goin out like a sucker no way
So I sit around the way for you to make my day

We can go for the hands, better yet for the words
'Cause you?ll be ignored, and at the same time, I?ll be heard
Throughout the city, the town and the country
The beat is funky, my rhyme is spunky

There is no delayin in the rhyme I?m sayin'
Neither are the flaws of what my DJ is playin'
So sit back Jack, and listen to this it?s 10% dis
'Cause I?m just about ready to fly this fist, against your lips

But I?ll wait for the day or night that you approach
And I?ma serve then burn ya like a piece of, toast
Pop you in the microwave to watch your head bubble
Your skin just crumble, a battle?s no trouble

Get my homegirls Dohni and Kiki to get stupid
This thing called hip-hop, Lyte is rulin' it
I hate to laugh in your face, but you?re funny
Your beat, your rhymin', your timin', all crummy

On the topic of rappin', I should write a pamphlet, better yet a booklet
Your rap is weak homegirl and it?s definitely crooked
Others write your rhymes, while I write my own
I don?t create a character, when I?m on the microphone

I am myself, no games to be played
No script to be written, no scene to be made
I am the director, as far as you are concerned
You don?t believe me, then you?ll have to learn

This ain?t as hard as MC Lyte can get
And matter of fact, you ain?t seen nothin' yet
So never let me step into a party hardy
Talk to some people and then hear from somebody

You wanna battle? ?Cause you know where I am
You don?t wanna come in the 90?s and see me at a jam
When a, mic is handy, ten feet away
I stretch my arm like elastic, head like a magnet

Set assure, you know I don?t play
When it comes down to it, the nitty gritty
For a sucker like you I feel a whole lot of pity

Beat biter, dope style taker
Tell you to your face, you ain?t nuttin' but a faker
Beat biter, dope style taker
Tell you to your face, you ain?t nuttin' but a faker

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1d28d441d125e5da7537d3060fc9f083

Damn - Lyrics - Profyle

Title: Damn
Artist: Profyle
Composer(s): Ernest E Dixon, Roy Hamilton

Lyric:
Damn
Whoo
Profyle Hmm, kick this straight
Come on

I love the way you walk (walk)
Wanna hear you talk
Something 'bout your thighs
Made a nigga rise
The way you wear you hair (hair)
Ain't a woman here that compares
I'm feelin' what you do
So let me do it with you

Make a nigga say damn (Damn, damn, damn, ooh)
Make a nigga say oh damn, Goddamn, hot damn

Make a nigga say damn (Damn, damn, damn, ooh)
Make a nigga say oh damn, Goddamn, hot damn

Jump into my six
I'ma drop these chips
Let's get up on this room
You're about to meet your doom
Now, when you raise up out this bed
You might find yourself kinda bow-legged
Now don't get mad at me
'Cause I'm penetratin' rather deeply

By the time that we are through
Screamin' the words girl, "Ooh, Ooh, Ooh"
Oh damn oh oh damn
By the time that we are through
Screamin' the words girl, "Ooh, Ooh, Ooh"
Oh damn, oh damn

Now that we are through
Gotta a question for you
Tell me was it good?
Was it "Mmm-mmm good" to you?
Lying there in the bare
Girl you need to beware
I'll hop back in that bed
And from the back I pull your hair

By the time that we are through
Screamin' the words girl, "Ooh, Ooh, Ooh"
Oh damn oh oh damn
By the time that we are through
Screamin' the words girl, "Ooh, Ooh, Ooh"
Oh damn, oh damn

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0501f44a24bb06cd7cd664e0fc00e939

Too Hot - Lyrics - Fantastic Voyage: The Greatest Hits - Coolio

Title: Too Hot
Album: Fantastic Voyage: The Greatest Hits
Artist: Coolio
Composer(s): George Brown, Artis L., Jr. Ivey, Brian Dobbs

Lyric:
Everybody listen up 'cause I'm about to give my speak on
Fools be trippin' when it's time to get their freak on
Runnin' round town, puttin' it down
Without no protection, funny erection
When it's time for selection, what's your direction?
Before you make a choice you betta do some inspection
If you don't know my aim and don't know my game
Then let me explain now

Aisha slept wit' Mark and Mark slept wit' Tina
And Tina slept wit' Javier the first time he seen her
Javier slept wit' Loopy and Loopy slept wit' Rob
'Cause he was rollin' on beeds and had a good ass job
Rob slept wit' Lisa who slept wit' Steve and Steve was positive H.I.V.
What started off as a plan ended up in the plot
You betta cool your ass off 'cause it's too damn hot

Oh oh, it's too hot
(Too hot)
Too hot, lady
(Too hot)
Gotta run for shelter, gotta run out for shade

It's too hot
(Too hot)
Too hot, homie
(Too hot)
Gotta make some sense from this mess that we made

You're doin' everything momma told you not to do
Now you're tryin' to walk away 'cause you know it's true
Your sister can't explain and your mother's ashamed
To admit you both had the same last name
I don't have to ask you where you've been
'Cause the matches in your purse say 'Holiday Inn'
A mind is a terrible thing to waste that was the slogan
But now it's '95 and it's 'don't forget the Trojan'

Explained it to her momma before somebody get her got her
Help her to the game with those smooth talkin' niggas
'Love' is the word, so is 'remember' often heard
Latex, safe sex, you better learn to get hip to the facts
Before you be yacko, end up in a box on your back
Sometimes you axed me what you wanted, get what you got
Don't get up in the plot, it's too damn hot

Oh oh, it's too hot
(Too hot)
Too hot, lady
(Too hot)
Gotta run for shelter, gotta run out for shade

It's too hot
(Too hot)
Too hot, homie
(Too hot)
Gotta make some sense from this mess that we made

Another day in the city and know what a pity
Even though we did our duty, things are still lookin' shitty
Everybody in the pack stack tryin' to make some scraps
Walkin' in the rain but they ain't got no hat
Understand how we livin' in the 90's loc
Nuclear waste, cannibalism and pistol smoke
Sex, lies and videotape and rape
Just a little public crime can seal your fate

We need to do something drastic shit, it's gettin' tragic
And if you don't believe me, then go ask Magic
Everybody and their momma preaching abstinence
These kids ain't checking for abster shit
So put a condom in their hand and hope it don't bust
Another victim of the lust, in God, we trust
What started off as a plan ended up in the plot
Water can't cool it off 'cause it's too damn hot

Oh oh, it's too hot
(Too hot)
Too hot, lady
(Too hot)
Gotta run for shelter, gotta run out for shade

It's too hot
(Too hot)
Too hot, homie
(Too hot)
Gotta make some sense from this mess that we made

It's too hot
(Too hot)
Too hot, lady
(Too hot)
Gotta run for shelter, gotta run out for shade

It's too hot
(Too hot)
Too hot, homie
(Too hot)
Gotta make some sense from this mess that we made

Oh oh, it's too hot
(Too hot)
Too hot, lady
(Too hot)
Gotta run for shelter, gotta run out for shade

It's too hot

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ebfffdafd7596f9a6fae1757aa8947c7

Hottest Of The Hot - Lyrics - B.G.

Title: Hottest Of The Hot
Artist: B.G.
Composer(s): Michael Crooms, Christopher Noel Dorsey

Lyric:
Uh huh, look, this for my dog, Gigitty-Gangsta
Ya heard me, original hot boy, a sterling, mosquito, duran
Rest in peace

Now if ya know me then you know I'm 'bout that shoot 'em up and
Bang bang, got ya white tee full of red stains
From the blood, that's leakin' from your forehead
When I'm at war, raw is the only way I play it
You think you was on NBA jam, you hear that choppa
Go blakka-ga-blakka, boom-shakka-laka-laka
It get know, hotter than Geezy, I swear to that
Trust me, I bust ya up wherever I catch ya at

It could be night, it could be daylight
I'ma show ya what the, AK like
Them bullets burn, they don't come straight
They flip, they twist, they turn
Now is ya ready for it
Then I'ma bring it to ya, if you insist playa
I'ma discharge all fifty out the clip playa
That's how I roll dog, better get ready
That's how I roll dog, ya better

Man, I'm the hottest of the hot, I be burnin' up
And I'm ready to set it off, so turn it up
Let's get crunk dog, let's get buck dog
Where ya sets at, put 'em up dog
I'm the hottest of the hot, I be burnin' up
And I'm ready to set it off, so turn it up
Let's get crunk dog, let's get buck dog
Where ya sets at, put 'em up dog

If ya down wit me, come on and let's get loose
Anything goes, hair down, do whatcha do
I ain't seen a girl shake like a hot girl shake
From Detroit, Texas, to Orleans, to M. I. A.
Alabama, Cash-Ville or Atlanta, G.A.
They damn the do, I mean they do the damn thang
Down south raw, can't forget rough and rugged
We be clubbin', thuggin', hustlin', and head bustin'

Teeth platinum or gold, everyday dress code
T-shirt, Reeboks, bandanas, and girbauds
It'll be uncivilized, don't stick to the G-code
Under twenty, ya ride natural, I'm on twenty-fours
2003 black hummer, H2O
450's, DVD, Xbox TV's
Mouths drop, I come through, heads turn, eyes buck
Like whoa, who that is, he burnin' up

And, I'm the hottest of the hot, I be burnin' up
And I'm ready to set it off, so turn it up
Let's get crunk dog, let's get buck dog
Where ya sets at, put 'em up dog
I'm the hottest of the hot, I be burnin' up
And I'm ready to set it off, so turn it up
Let's get crunk dog, let's get buck dog
Where ya sets at, put 'em up dog

Ashanti, hot, too too hot
Beyonce', hot, too too hot
Alicia Keys, hot, ooh that girl hot
Foxy, Cameron E., man them girl's hot
Man that girl from the sunshine state, she hot
I wanna see Trina just drop it like it's hot
Charlie Baltimore, hot, that girl so hot
And hottie yellow thing with Roc-A-Fella, ooh she hot

Give props when it's due, man Abrea, she hot
God bless the dead, Aaliyah, and left-eye hot
Kelly that sweet, Petite thing, she so hot
Chilli and T-Boz, man them girls hot
That girl vita, thugged out, straight off the block
I like 'em like that, man that girl she hot
That girl on 106th and park, ooh she hot
Cita girl, it's yo world, you're just too hot

And I'm the hottest of the hot, I be burnin' up
And I'm ready to set it off, so turn it up
Let's get crunk dog, let's get buck dog
Where ya sets at, put 'em up dog
And I'm the hottest of the hot, I be burnin' up
And I'm ready to set it off, so turn it up
Let's get crunk dog, let's get buck dog
Where ya sets at, put 'em up dog

Man I'm a hot boy, original, original
Man I'm a hot boy, original hot boy
Is you a hot boy, 'cause I'm a hot boy?
Kizzle's a hot boy, is you a hot boy?
Gar a hot boy, is you a hot boy?
Snipe a hot boy, is you a hot boy?
Kid a hot boy, is you a hot boy?
Red a hot boy, is you a hot boy?

Chopper city hot boys, we some hot boys
Wide open hot boys, we some hot boys
Is you a hot boy, I wanna hot girl
'Cause I'ma hot boy, I need a hot girl
Is you a hot girl, 'cause I'm a hot boy?
Hot hot boy, number 1 hot boy
Gizzle, ha, ha, ha hot boy
Uh, hot boy, it's the return of the hot boy

It's the return of the original hot boy
Hot boy, hot boy
H O T B O Y, uh

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140c81a1311fe2ed627b605e1b008c2f

40 - Hope I Don'T Go Back - Lyrics - E

Title: 40 - Hope I Don'T Go Back
Artist: E
Composer(s): Jonathan Lind, Maurice White, Anthony Banks, Earl T Stevens

Lyric:
What's happenin'?
You need to take it inside
Take what inside?
You're disturbing the peace

Yeah yeah, I done got too big to be hoppin'
Over barbed wire fences, right?
But I had this one broad
She was so damn sprung she use

What? Uhh, and ahh, and a VHS camera
And a VHS camera
I promise you playboy
It was somethin' serious, felt so damn good

Hope I don't go back to slangin' ya-yo
Slangin' llello, to get my mail
See a lot of people don't know
The legendary status of which I come from
Old school like Cab Calloway
Right
Hot damn, I taught him his thang he do

Hope I don't go back to slangin' ya-yo
Slangin' llello, to get my mail
See a lot of people don't know
The legendary status of which I come from
Old school like Cab Calloway
Right
Hot damn, I taught him his thang he do

Been a hustler since birth, mama sellin' dubs in church
Red-handed, caught me stealin' money our her purse
Got branded, permanent whip scars on my back
'Cause I used to get beat, with racing car tracks

But now me got wealth, holdin' a conference call on my
Hands free car telephone lookin' like I'm talkin' to myself
Shootin' the breeze cuttin' it up real smooth like
Choppin' it up like two business men

Talkin' about it, by the way B
What we doin' this week on SoundScan?
If I ain't in Japan, I'm in the Valley
Or maybe next door in Gary Payton bowling alley

Or maybe at the shootin' range, me and Banks
Or on the golf course, with Merton Hanks
Or we lay in the sun, give me my propers
With a beat that's out of this world, lookin' down on doctors
Sippin' on the porch, watchin' my kids play basketball
In the backyard on a 40 by 63 foot long sports court

Hope I don't go back to slangin' ya-yo
Slangin' llello, to get my mail
See a lot of people don't know
The legendary status of which I come from
Old school like Cab Calloway
Right
Hot damn, I taught him his thang he do

Business spot up in the wilderness, coyotes and wild boars
[Unverified] days like this were made strictly for outdoors
Twenty inch gold super Bravos on my [unverified] everybody ain't poor
To be blessed with success with an independent-ass record label

Check it out, marbles, I got the game from my Uncle Saint Thomas
Used to bank across the street at Wells Fargo
But now it's Merrill Lynch
And just think, I used to sit the bench

I remember gettin' chased by the cops, had to get my stomach pumped
Full of a quarter ounce of rocks, late afternoon
Probably waitin' for me outside of Vallejo Kaiser Permanente
Emergency room with glocks, ready to ride

And hang me to death, somehow I managed to make my escape through
The back of the cafeteria by the vending machine department quickly
Found myself runnin' through the Friendship Apartment Complex
Over there by the railroad tracks, around the corner from the
People's Continuation High School
Somewhere off in the lights, behind Je-nai's Liquor ooh

Hope I don't go back to slangin' ya-yo
Slangin' llello, to get my mail
See a lot of people don't know
The legendary status of which I come from
Old school like Cab Calloway
Right
Hot damn, I taught him his thang he do

Get my mail, check it out, dope game ain't goin'
Now it seems the, white-collared crimes, are hookin' up phones
"Charlie Hustle, I got a few homies, I'm doing a compilation
Should I go with [unverified]"

I tell em, "Hell yeah, that's a done deal", drew them off the hinges
[Unverified] them did my cover and my bus benches
Game warrior invested, worldwide sick-wid-it clique, independent chips
Lay that down, lay that down, that's what I'm sayin'

I'm gonna tell you it's cool, 'cause your playa partner
Take his other money right, and then he'll sit up here
And he'll take it then he'll say, "Hold on main"
Let me handle some phone booths

Let me get off into the business, dealers, ballers
Let me get off into the florist business, Beamers, barbershops
Get into commercial lots
Merchants, whatever fertilizes the right way of livin'

You dig what I'm sayin' man? Ay look
Playboy, I look at myself and I say, "Hold on main"
Lemme see what's down, lemme translate it
Lemme translate it into some marbles
Lemme liquidate my revenues
You understand what I'm sayin' 40-Watermelon

Ay, but look here, I'm here to sprinkle my
Godzilla brawler playboy potnas untouchable
Mafia game warriors to adjust to the situations
That goes down in they life, I ain't playin' wit it man

Hope I don't go back to slangin' ya-yo
Slangin' llello, to get my mail
See a lot of people don't know
The legendary status of which I come from
Old school like Cab Calloway
Right
Hot damn, I taught him his thang he do
There's too many jealous brothers in this game
I can't stand the same, I gotta mine

Hope I don't go back to slangin' ya-yo
Slangin' llello, to get my mail
See a lot of people don't know
The legendary status of which I come from
Old school like Cab Calloway
Right
Hot damn, I taught him his thang he do
I gotta get my money on

Don't wanna go, don't wanna go
Back to the game, hey

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7012d6c1ff95d9ad3edad6ae70865bba

Back Then - Lyrics - Who Is Mike Jones? - Mike Jones

Title: Back Then
Album: Who Is Mike Jones?
Artist: Mike Jones
Composer(s): Salih Williams, Michael A. Jones

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

Lyric:
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me, I said
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me, I said

Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me, I said
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me, I said

Mike Jones!
Befo' I came up in the game these hoes didn't show no love
They see me in the club and used to treat me like a scrub
They wouldn't holla ?cause my dollars wasn't swoll enough
I bet they change they mind when them 84's come rollin' up

They see that I'm a star, now they wanna sit in my car
Now they wanna count my cheese, smoke my weed and sip my bar now
They used to love to me diss me, now they rush to hug and kiss me now
They tellin' all they friends when I leave how they miss me now

281-330-8004
Hit Mike Jones up on the low ?cause Mike Jones about to blow
Befo' the ice was in my grill, befo' I got my major deal
These hoes wouldn't give a damn if I was heah, geah, I said

Befo' the ice was in my grill, befo' I got my major deal
These hoes wouldn't give a damn if I was heah, geah, I said
Befo' the ice was in my grill, befo' I got my major deal
These hoes wouldn't give a damn if I was heah, geah, because

Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me, I said
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me, I said

Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me, I said
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me, I said

I remember back den, most of them hoes couldn't stand me
But now them same hoes beggin' me to pull down they panties
A couple of 'em said I was cute but I was just too chubby
Same size a year later the same hoes wanna fuck me

Because they see me paid, pimpin' pens, workin' my jelly
And they ain't trippin' ?cause my pockets stick out mo' than my belly
They know I'm paid, livin' laid in the shade, 2 slabs in the Escalade
With fo' or five estates they know that I got it made

I'm a motherfuckin' baller she would want a nigga now
But I ain't got no time to call her
I'ma stall her like she stalled me, now she tryin' to call me
Bitch I'ma dog yo' whole ass like you dogged me

I'm Mike Jones, don't act like you don't know the name
Ain't nuttin' changed but my change, I'ma stay the same
I'm Mike Jones, don't act like you don't know my name
Ain't nuttin' changed but my change, I'ma stay the same

Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me, I said
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me, I said

Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me, I said
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me

Befo' my paper came, befo' I got my fame
These hoes that's poppin' on me now didn't even know my name
They said my flow was lame, they said I had no game
I told 'em all I was fin' to blow they thought I was insane

But then my name started blowin' up quick, now they jumpin' on my dick
?Cause they see me on the rise and know now my paper thick
But then my name started blowin' up quick, now they jumpin' on my dick
Because they see me on the rise and know now my paper thick

Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me, I said
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me, I said

Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me, I said
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me, I said

Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me, I said
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me
Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me, I said
?

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02861ea1f97c25ffaa6233d43045ea41

Spottieottiedopaliscious - Lyrics - Outkast

Title: Spottieottiedopaliscious
Artist: Outkast
Composer(s): Andre Benjamin, Antwan Patton, Patrick Brown

Lyric:
Damn, damn, damn, James
Damn, damn, damn, James
Damn, damn, damn, James
Damn, damn, damn, James

Dickie shorts and Lincoln's clean
Leanin' checking out the scene
Gangsta boys, Bigga's lit
Ridin' out talkin' shit

Nigga where you wanna go?
You know the club don't close 'til four
Let's party 'til we can't no more
Watch out here come the folks, damn alone

As the plot thickens, it gives me the dickens
Reminiscent of Charles a lil disco tech
Nestled in the ghettos of Niggaville, USA
Via Atlanta, Georgia
A li'l spot where young men & young women
Go to experience they first li'l taste of the nightlife

Me? Well, I've never been there, well, perhaps once
But, I was so engulfed in the Old "E"
I never made it to the door you speak of hard core
while the DJ sweatin' out all the problems
and the troubles of the day

While this fine bow legged girl fine as all outdoors
Lulls lukewarm lullabies in your left ear
Competing with "Set it Off," in the right
But, it all blends perfectly, let the liquor tell it
"Hey, hey look baby they playin' our song"

And the crowd goes wild as if
Holy field has just won the fight
But in actuality it's only about 3 A.M.
And three niggas just don' got hauled off in the ambulance

Two niggas don' start bustin'
And one nigga don' took his shirt off talkin' 'bout
"Now who else wanna fuck with Hollywood Court?"
This is my interpretation of the situation

Damn, damn, damn, James
Damn, damn, damn, James
Damn, damn, damn, James
Damn, damn, damn, James

Yes, when I first met my spottieottiedopaliscious angel
I can remember that damn thing like yesterday
The way she moved, reminded me of a brown stallion horse
With skates on you know smooth like a hot comb on nappy ass hair

I walked up on her and was almost paralyzed
Her neck was smelling sweeter than a plate of yams with
Extra syrup, eyes beaming like four karats apiece just blindin'
A nigga felt like I chiefed a whole O of that Presidential
My heart was beating so damn fast never knowing
This moment would bring another life into this world

Funny how shit come together sometimes ya dig
One moment you frequent the booty clubs
And the next four years you and somebody's daughter
Raisin' y'all own young'n that's a beautiful thang
That's if you're on top of your game
And man enough to handle real life situations that is

Can't gamble feeding baby on that dope money
Might not always be sufficient but the
United Parcel Service and the people at the Post Office
Didn't call you back because, you had cloudy piss
So now you back in the trap just that, trapped
Go on and marinate on that for a minute

Damn, damn, damn, J-J-James
Damn, damn, damn, J-J-James
Damn, damn, damn, J-J-James
...

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cb60a7eb32325b8b745d884c3c6c541e

King Of The Stereo - Lyrics - Blood Stained Love Story - Saliva

Title: King Of The Stereo
Album: Blood Stained Love Story
Artist: Saliva
Composer(s): David A Novotny, Joseph Scott Sappington, Wayne A Swinny, Paul Allen Crosby, Bob Marlette

Lyric:
Massive, drastic, classic, I'm interactive
You put me in your computer and I'ma crash it
My claim to fame is my brain insane
And if the blame is framed then I'ma smash it

I'm back again and on a rampage
Spitting pain and fables onto a new page
Around the corner, I'm coming
There ain't no use in you running
And now I'm pushing the button into a new age

The whole world is waiting for the
Waiting for the, waiting for the

King of the stereo, this is too damn hot
King of the stereo, king of the stereo
This is too damn hot

I think I've proven that history's being made now
I see you suckas got nothing that you can say now
And all the others who've fallen with all their faking and balling
The kitchen's too damn hot for you to stay now

To everybody who's left, you better recognize
Throw your hands in the air and let me see your eyes
It only took one song for you to realize
'Click, click, boom', the king is here tonight

The whole world is waiting for the
Waiting for the, waiting for the

King of the stereo, this is too damn hot
King of the stereo, king of the stereo
King of the stereo, this is too damn hot
King of the stereo, king of the stereo

You can't catch me, you can't kill me
You can't break me, yeah
You can't catch me, you can't kill me
You can't break me, play it on

The whole world is waiting for the
Waiting for the, waiting for the
The whole world is waiting for the
Waiting for the, waiting for the

King of the stereo, this is too damn hot
King of the stereo, king of the stereo
King of the stereo, this is too damn hot
King of the stereo, king of the stereo
This is too damn hot

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bba9b40974ac71e96bb6039285290c9d

Tha Block Is Hot - Lyrics - Tha Block Is Hot - Lil' Wayne

Title: Tha Block Is Hot
Album: Tha Block Is Hot
Artist: Lil' Wayne
Composer(s): Dwayne Michael Carter, Christopher Dorsey, Terius Gray, Byron O Thomas

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

Lyric:
Wha wha, wha wha, wha wha, wha wha, what?

Straight off the black gold, nuts in my hand, trustin' no man
Got my glock cocked, runnin' this thing, ya understand?
We be steamin', blazin' nines, pumps and K's and
Holly Grove 17th, tha hood where I was raised in
(What, what, what?)

Niggaz bustin' heads and runnin', duckin' Feds and
Rocks under they tongues and ki's under they beds and
Hood fulla real niggaz, twenty-four seven hustlers
Ehh, until we shove a barrel down ya pipe suckers
Ain't no love for no busta, no fear for no coward

No respect from no stunt and no money without power
We keepin' niggaz hotter, eww, nasty and sour
Pile up in the Eddie Bauer and Blaka at every hour
Some niggaz like that powder, foldin' up what they drain

Some like that weed or that dope and some shoot it up in they veins
(Oh)
From the home of that 'caine, jackin' and crackin' brains
Broadcastin' live from Tha Block, it's Lil' Wayne
(Who it is?)

Nigga you got that llello?
Well, cook something nigga
Nigga, you let them K's go?
Well, bust somethin', nigga

Are you duckin' that law?
You better run from 'em, nigga
Are you playin' with that raw?
Well, won't you front somethin', nigga?

Tha block is hot, tha block is hot ha, ha ha
Tha block is hot, tha block is hot ha, ha ha
Tha block is hot, tha block is hot ha, ha ha
Tha block is hot, tha block is hot ha

See, where I'm from we keep our guns out
Dodgin' cops and burnin' blocks so we be thugged out
It's time to floss, bring the big bodies on dubs out
And they got quarters, halfs and birds in that one house
(I got it)

(I got it)
It's all good in the hood but a lot illegal
Soon as you get it, hot skirt, there go them people
Break up the block and hit the cut by the corner sto'
End up in Miss Taylor backyard, be quiet, she on the porch

This everyday, at the spot where niggaz murder off top, boy
It's the spot where they got Fire Girls and Hot, Boys
We don't know what be goin' 'cause we so blunted from trees
And we'll be round ya all day til we '400 Degreez'

And you see where niggaz go, nobody be on the pulpit
They got a nigga got on a scarf, he flippin' out off that raw
Betta stay in yo' car, and make sure, your door is locked
(Beep, beep)
'Cause this ain't nuttin' proper 'cause tha block, is just hot

Nigga you got that llello?
Well, cook something nigga
Nigga, you let them K's go?
Well, bust somethin', nigga

Are you duckin' that law?
You better run from 'em, nigga
Are you playin' with that raw?
Well, won't you front somethin', nigga?

Tha block is hot, tha block is hot ha, ha ha
Tha block is hot, tha block is hot ha, ha ha
Tha block is hot, tha block is hot ha, ha ha
Tha block is hot, tha block is hot ha

See, watch your step on my set, gotta walk like, talk like
We done shot out all the street lights
So you can't see who we be like
And we like to dress in all black up in my residence

Ain't got on no suits 'cause we ain't tryin' to be Presidents
And ever since the coke drought, niggaz been on a trip y'all
So you better watch what y'all playin wit
'Cause a nigga will try to flip y'all

They hit y'all, jam you up and put a gun to your jug
Hah, catch your breath, now shh, catch a slug
It's street smarts, plenty niggaz that keep spots
When the heat starts, ain't nobody got sweethearts

Callin' weak shots, you could come try to cheap talk
We cut your week short, them lil' boys don't give a damn
Go all out for that cake, won't hesitate to kill a man
Run in his house and kidnap the nigga, him and his fam
Tie 'em up, put 'em in the vans then put a gat in his jaws
Tch, one move blow his cactuses off

Nigga you got that llello?
Well, cook something nigga
Nigga, you let them K's go?
Well, bust somethin', nigga

Are you duckin' that law?
You better run from 'em, nigga
Are you playin' with that raw?
Well, won't you front somethin', nigga?

Tha block is hot, tha block is hot ha, ha ha
Tha block is hot, tha block is hot ha, ha ha
Tha block is hot, tha block is hot ha, ha ha
Tha block is hot, tha block is hot ha

Whoot! Some people call me 'cause tha block is hot
Shk-a-blaow! Bust ya guns 'cause tha block is hot
Nigga chsh, cook it up 'cause tha block is hot
Say, look Daddy, just hook it up 'cause tha block is hot

Nigga, whoot! Some people call me 'cause tha block is hot
Shk-a-blaow! Bust ya guns 'cause tha block is hot
Nigga chsh, cook it up 'cause tha block is hot
Say, look Daddy, just hook it up 'cause tha block is hot

Nigga, my block hot, nigga, my block burn
My block on fire, nigga, what about yours?
Nigga, my block hot, nigga, my block burn
My block on fire, nigga, what about yours?
The block is hot, ha ha ha ha

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The Block Is Hot - Lyrics - Lil' Wayne

Title: The Block Is Hot
Artist: Lil' Wayne
Composer(s): Dwayne Michael Carter, Christopher Dorsey, Terius Gray, Byron O Thomas

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Lyric:
Wha wha, wha wha, wha wha, wha wha, what?

Straight off the black gold, nuts in my hand, trustin' no man
Got my glock cocked, runnin' this thing, ya understand?
We be steamin', blazin' nines, pumps and K's and
Holly Grove 17th, tha hood where I was raised in
(What, what, what?)

Niggaz bustin' heads and runnin', duckin' Feds and
Rocks under they tongues and ki's under they beds and
Hood fulla real niggaz, twenty-four seven hustlers
Ehh, until we shove a barrel down ya pipe suckers
Ain't no love for no busta, no fear for no coward

No respect from no stunt and no money without power
We keepin' niggaz hotter, eww, nasty and sour
Pile up in the Eddie Bauer and Blaka at every hour
Some niggaz like that powder, foldin' up what they drain

Some like that weed or that dope and some shoot it up in they veins
(Oh)
From the home of that 'caine, jackin' and crackin' brains
Broadcastin' live from Tha Block, it's Lil' Wayne
(Who it is?)

Nigga you got that llello?
Well, cook something nigga
Nigga, you let them K's go?
Well, bust somethin', nigga

Are you duckin' that law?
You better run from 'em, nigga
Are you playin' with that raw?
Well, won't you front somethin', nigga?

Tha block is hot, tha block is hot ha, ha ha
Tha block is hot, tha block is hot ha, ha ha
Tha block is hot, tha block is hot ha, ha ha
Tha block is hot, tha block is hot ha

See, where I'm from we keep our guns out
Dodgin' cops and burnin' blocks so we be thugged out
It's time to floss, bring the big bodies on dubs out
And they got quarters, halfs and birds in that one house
(I got it)

(I got it)
It's all good in the hood but a lot illegal
Soon as you get it, hot skirt, there go them people
Break up the block and hit the cut by the corner sto'
End up in Miss Taylor backyard, be quiet, she on the porch

This everyday, at the spot where niggaz murder off top, boy
It's the spot where they got Fire Girls and Hot, Boys
We don't know what be goin' 'cause we so blunted from trees
And we'll be round ya all day til we '400 Degreez'

And you see where niggaz go, nobody be on the pulpit
They got a nigga got on a scarf, he flippin' out off that raw
Betta stay in yo' car, and make sure, your door is locked
(Beep, beep)
'Cause this ain't nuttin' proper 'cause tha block, is just hot

Nigga you got that llello?
Well, cook something nigga
Nigga, you let them K's go?
Well, bust somethin', nigga

Are you duckin' that law?
You better run from 'em, nigga
Are you playin' with that raw?
Well, won't you front somethin', nigga?

Tha block is hot, tha block is hot ha, ha ha
Tha block is hot, tha block is hot ha, ha ha
Tha block is hot, tha block is hot ha, ha ha
Tha block is hot, tha block is hot ha

See, watch your step on my set, gotta walk like, talk like
We done shot out all the street lights
So you can't see who we be like
And we like to dress in all black up in my residence

Ain't got on no suits 'cause we ain't tryin' to be Presidents
And ever since the coke drought, niggaz been on a trip y'all
So you better watch what y'all playin wit
'Cause a nigga will try to flip y'all

They hit y'all, jam you up and put a gun to your jug
Hah, catch your breath, now shh, catch a slug
It's street smarts, plenty niggaz that keep spots
When the heat starts, ain't nobody got sweethearts

Callin' weak shots, you could come try to cheap talk
We cut your week short, them lil' boys don't give a damn
Go all out for that cake, won't hesitate to kill a man
Run in his house and kidnap the nigga, him and his fam
Tie 'em up, put 'em in the vans then put a gat in his jaws
Tch, one move blow his cactuses off

Nigga you got that llello?
Well, cook something nigga
Nigga, you let them K's go?
Well, bust somethin', nigga

Are you duckin' that law?
You better run from 'em, nigga
Are you playin' with that raw?
Well, won't you front somethin', nigga?

Tha block is hot, tha block is hot ha, ha ha
Tha block is hot, tha block is hot ha, ha ha
Tha block is hot, tha block is hot ha, ha ha
Tha block is hot, tha block is hot ha

Whoot! Some people call me 'cause tha block is hot
Shk-a-blaow! Bust ya guns 'cause tha block is hot
Nigga chsh, cook it up 'cause tha block is hot
Say, look Daddy, just hook it up 'cause tha block is hot

Nigga, whoot! Some people call me 'cause tha block is hot
Shk-a-blaow! Bust ya guns 'cause tha block is hot
Nigga chsh, cook it up 'cause tha block is hot
Say, look Daddy, just hook it up 'cause tha block is hot

Nigga, my block hot, nigga, my block burn
My block on fire, nigga, what about yours?
Nigga, my block hot, nigga, my block burn
My block on fire, nigga, what about yours?
The block is hot, ha ha ha ha

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Let It Go (Remix) - Lyrics - Keyshia Cole

Title: Let It Go (Remix)
Artist: Keyshia Cole
Composer(s): Kim Jones, Missy Elliott, Keyshia Cole, Jack Knight, Mtum

Lyric:
You need to get if he don't wanna
Love you the right way, he ain't gonna
It ain't where he's at, it's where he
Where he wanna be, yeah
Go Keyshia!

Yes, woo, fire
I like this one right here
This one for all my ladies y'all
Holla! Uh huh, let?s go

I don't want yo? man ?cause I got it like that
But it ain't even gotta be like that, h-h-heh heh heh
Your man he be callin' me back
He say I'm fine and a matter of fact, h-heh heh heh
He ask how I do like that, fit my jeans over baby phat
Listen, I don't know the type of tricks he playin'
But I should warn you, I don't want yo? man

I understand why you wanna try
Make him stay home late at night
But if he wanna go, he?ll be gone, no lie
I can't explain how many times I tried
How many times I cried
Thinkin? about mine and where he might be
(Baby I don?t wanna worry no)

Remember when I gave everything I got
Couldn?t get deep down inside
How you love someone who didn?t love me
But now I get if he don't wanna
Love you right way, he ain?t gonna
It ain?t where he?s at, it?s where he
Where he wanna be

If he ain?t gonna love you the way he should then let it go
If he ain't gonna treat you the way he should then let it go
If he ain?t gonna love you the way he should then let it go
If he ain?t gonna treat you the way he should then let it go

When this song come on in the club
They gon' be like, ?Damn! That's hot!?
And when they play it in the car
They gon' drop they tops like, ?Damn! That's hot!?

They gon? mix it with Biggie, ?It Was All A Dream?
Like, ?Damn! That's hot!?
Me and Keyshia don't stop 'til the tick don?t tock
Like, ?Damn! That's hot!?

Now I understand why I take my time
'Cause you come with alibis
Trying get me to see that's where you trying to be
But I don't want your man, your man?s been callin? me
Trying to get me to see that he wants me to be with him
But he ain't the one for me

And if you only knew
You would do what you had to, finally see that
(Finally get the chance to see that)
You have to get if he don't wanna
Love you the right way, he ain?t gonna
It ain't where he's at, it's where he, where he wanna be, yeah

If he ain?t gonna love you the way he should then let it go
If he ain't gonna treat you the way he should then let it go
If he ain?t gonna love you the way he should then let it go
If he ain?t gonna treat you the way he should then let it go

Uh uh uh, here?s a little lesson, Lil? Kim don't stress 'em
Kick 'em all straight to the curb like Beckham
Broke up with my ex, he was huffin? out
But little do she know she just a rebound

Callin? my phone, she?s so out of pocket
I been there before, oh girl you need to stop it
Trickin? on me when he tell you he ain't got it
You don't get the picture? My picture?s in his wallet

Never ever thought I would leave him alone
But I let a dawg roam now he wanna come home
But I don't trust him, though I still love him
No longer wonder lookin? at his cousin

Kinda buzzin?, loose off the Goose
Got him on the chase like cranberry juice
When he's wit you, he's wishin' it was me
You might be where's he at but I?m where he wanna be
Baby baby, hey!

Let it go, let it go, let it go
(Let it go)
(Let it go, let it go, let it go)
It's where he wanna be
(Let it go, let it go, let it go)
(Let it go, let it go, let it go)

If he ain?t gonna love you the way he should then let it go
If he ain't gonna treat you the way he should then let it go
If he ain?t gonna love you the way he should then let it go
If he ain?t gonna treat you the way he should then let it go

Hands up in the air!
When this song come on in the club
They gon' be like, ?Damn! That's hot!?
And when they play it in the car
They gon' drop they tops like, ?Damn! That's hot!?

They gon? mix it with Biggie, ?It Was All A Dream?
Like, ?Damn! That's hot!?
Me and Keyshia don't stop til? the tick don?t tock
Like, ?Damn! That's hot!?

Yes! Fire baby
Kim, Keyshia and Missy
Don?t get no hotter than that, holla

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