I Changed The Rules - Lyrics - Peter Cincotti

Title: I Changed The Rules
Artist: Peter Cincotti
Composer(s): Pia Cincotti, Cynthia Cincotti, Peter Cincotti

Lyric:
Don't keep on asking where I've been
I'm not some guy you discipline
Stop that crying, no use justifying
Baby, I changed the rules

Don't keep me waiting at the door
I'm not some cat that you ignore
Keep on whining and I'll keep on declining
Baby, I changed the rules

You can't stop me from shooting the breeze
I always say and do as I please
But don't stop trying, you know I'm gratifying
Keep the pace, you're in the race

You feel the heat right by my side
Stay close, I'll take you for a ride
Stimulating really intoxicating
Baby, I changed the rules

You can't stop me from shooting the breeze
I always say and do as I please
But don't stop trying, you know I'm gratifying
Keep the pace, you're in the race

You feel the heat right by my side
Stay close, I'll take you for a ride
Stimulating, really intoxicating
Baby, I changed the rules

I changed the rules
I changed the rules

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4d6f69e49df5e9186c7a15ea53c20209

Breakin' The Rules - Lyrics - M.O.P.

Title: Breakin' The Rules
Artist: M.O.P.
Composer(s): Jamal Grinnage, Chris Martin, Eric Murry

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

Lyric:
Yeah, check it out, y'all
Firing squad, nigga
(First family)
Yeah, firing squad, nigga
Check it out
(First family)

The name's Bill
(What up Bill?)
I'ma semi-automatic addict for real
Before you test me
Know I feel that the impact from a gat
Then it kicks back is sexy

I put you motherfuckers back on the rip
Tip and get the split in a nigga's shit
(Ain't nothin' changed)
I take you motherfuckers back to 6
And get to dumpin' off a clip

(You know the game)
You wanna test me?
(You gotta)
Let your time be, there's a long line of niggas
That's ready to wrong me

I put my foot down firmly
Stick the nose of my gun in some shit that don't concern me
And most dudes don't like the way I rap
The brown-skinned cat with a helluva fast step, yep
Berkuance
(Retreat)

I would never be disconnected from these streets
It's deep, as the and my
(Ocean, potion)
Is to to spit fire, nigga
(Know when)
The rules of the motherfucking game

Here it is ghetto music
(Rock that)
When it drop, if its proper
(Cop that)
'Cause some cats be fakin' the move
In other words, breakin' the rules
(Stop that)

We make ghetto music
(Rock that)
When it drop, if its proper
(Cop that)
'Cause some cats be fakin' the move
In other words, breakin' the rules

Make way, bitch, I'm coming through
I'm Fizzy Wo dog, who the fuck are you?
Y'all niggas be, listenin' to that false information
Here your [unverified]

Thugs know home team from the BK and move niggas
Run with them guns bust off like John Woo
Try to sabatoge the game, I'ma start somethin'
Try to sabatoge my name, I'ma start dumpin'

Why do fucking motherfuckers act like y'all don't be known?
Fizzy Wo, nigga, going for broke
So when you low, come and hit you with something that gigantic
Automatic and will make your ship sink like the Titanic

Now that I know, that you against me
And you click, you click, you against me too
Tell his man to tell his man, work out another master plan
'Cause I'ma blast a man, what?

Here it is ghetto music
(Rock that)
When it drop, if its proper
(Cop that)
'Cause some cats be fakin' the move
In other words, breakin' the rules
(Stop that)

We make ghetto music
(Rock that)
When it drop, if its proper
(Cop that)
'Cause some cats be fakin' the move
In other words, breakin' the rules

Allow me to express my deepest sympathy
To the family of the cat, that, was hit with the penalty
I begged him not to fuck with me
(I tried)
He didn't listen, so they found his ass missin'

Put my barrel in the back of his mouth
And knocked his head out do or dead, now
Cold, he actually thought I would fold
So I tore him a new hole, word to nigga's soul

When I jump off, or I dump off, about eight rounds
Holdin' my spot down, I'ma knock down, about eight clowns
Nigga, don't you ever fuck around
With the four-pound token

Bonified thugster Brownsville slugger
(What)
Ex-mugger, for your knucka, bucka, bucka
Bitch motherfucker
(Fuck ya)

You musta bought a [unverified] in the heart
Flinch and I'ma tear your ass apart
Come on, straight like that, nigga

Firing Squad, nigga, ha-ha-hah
Hundred years and runnin' yeah
One of my motherfuckin' men, Flipper the Ripper
Y'know what I'm sayin', my nigga City, Teflon
Firing Squad, nigga, for life, yeah

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6a1912963d0fcedd5c67a27c4e2d06cc

Do The Damn Thang - Lyrics - Shake A Lil' Somethin' - 2 Live Crew

Title: Do The Damn Thang
Album: Shake A Lil' Somethin'
Artist: 2 Live Crew
Composer(s): Mark Ross, Christopher Wong Won, David Hobbs

Lyric:
Let?s get it on
I?m open real wide

I wanna do the damn thing
(Then do the damn thing)
I wanna do the damn thing
(Then do the damn thing)

I wanna do the damn thing
(Then do the damn thing)
I wanna do the damn thing
(Then do the damn thing)

I?m a bad motherfucker bringin? hoes to their knees
Fresh kid ice, long dick Chinese
Always on a mission ?cause I like to fuck
The way I hit the pussy is in the buck

Strokin? up and down, always takin? my time
Doin? it all till I make you mine
I rub your body with motion lotion
Lick you down like waves in the ocean

Do it till you?re satisfied
Have you moan even though you?re tired
I?ve fucked many bitches across the land
And no one slangs dick like the Chinamen

You ain?t been fucked ?cause your pussy?s froze
Many are called but few are chose
Bust them guts like it ain?t no thing
So bitch stop frontin?, let?s do the damn thing

I wanna do the damn thing
(Then do the damn thing)
I wanna do the damn thing
(Then do the damn thing)

Bitch, do you wanna swing with me?
Sex is the best with Brother Marquis
All hoes let my record show
All my bitches come back for more

It must be the way I throw my thing
It must be the way I spit my game
Look ?em in they eye, tell a quick lie
Kiss ?em and they cry, I don?t know why

Game so strong, yet so convincin?
Give me a minute, I?m up in it
Talk ?em out they draws real cool
Bitch, give it up smooth, you know the rules

True love ain?t so hard to find
It?s right between your legs and mine
None of my bitches, they never complain
They like the way I do the damn thing

I wanna do the damn thing
(Then do the damn thing)
I wanna do the damn thing
(Then do the damn thing)

I love it when a bitch be like proper
A hooche with a coochie that?ll let me pop her
The blac vagina finda once
I?m inside I must remind her

Pussy?s deception, dick?s a weapon
After I fuck, I?m steppin?
Damn right, ain?t nothin? changed
That?s the way I do my thing

Let me do it like nothin? before
I don?t need a friend, I need a whore
I need a bitch who?ll fuck all night
Take plenty of dick, and the pussy?s right

She?ll keep me goin? till she gets me off
And bring me up, when I?m soft
Let?s get together ?cause it ain?t no thing
You and me, baby, doin? the damn thing

I wanna do the damn thing
(Then do the damn thing)
I wanna do the damn thing
(Then do the damn thing)

Do the damn thing
Hey, I?m doin? it, baby
Now rub the damn thing
Damn right, I?m rubbin? it, baby

Kiss the damn thing
Mmm, kissin? it, baby
Now do the damn thing
Then turn around, baby

Uhh, uhh
Now throw the damn thing
Throw, throw it
Throw, the damn thing, baby

I wanna do the damn thing
(Then do the damn thing)
I wanna do the damn thing
(Then do the damn thing)

I wanna do the damn thing
(Then do the damn thing)
I wanna do the damn thing
(Then do the damn thing)

Come on girl, do, do it
Do, the damn thing, baby
Come on girl, do, do it
Do, the damn thing, baby

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1e6a0ff25bc89592659bf29966f1c013

Trouble Man - Lyrics - Inspectah Deck

Title: Trouble Man
Artist: Inspectah Deck
Composer(s): P Phillips, Adu Isaac Hayes, J Hunter, Matthewman Hal

Lyric:
Check out the avenue, New York, New York the rotten apple
We grapple in the streets to stack loot and slip the shackles
I'm currently, servin' twenty nine to life
Duckin' the searchlight, no sleep for like the third night

The big life is trife, got the young kids hyped
Cops shoot on sight, heat pipe be blowin' through the night
The land where you ain't fam, there's no pity
Similar to chocolate city, ten times gritty

Hittin' hard, liquor's god, niggaz plottin' on the come off
And come off, quicker than the clothes on the stripper
And slide like she doin' up and down the railing
Bitch tailing in the range with golden arms smooth sailin'

The clock's tickin', somebody's on the block snitchin'
The plot thickens, phones are tapped, cops listen
Too hot for prison, plus too cold to hold my girl
'Cause I married this life and she's my whole world

It's just a sign of the times
Calmly listen to these lines
I'm goin' out of my mind
Livin' the street life

Aiyyo, aiyyo make me wanna holla way they do my life
My life, is like a carousel one endless night
Where most die for pies, some holdin' their chrome
A large percent die for causes not even their own

When the Inspectah Deck be long dead and gone
Long live the ins clone they workin' on
Til then, I hold a section, I stand alone no co -defendant
Showin' the weapon, this saga had no story endin'

It's ghetto heaven and at the same time hell shots propel
The one that missed me got chanel
In the future ruled by computer, I self tutor
The music is the simulator, facin' the user

I do it for those who walk the same road
And no regrets do I hold for the path I chose
No sleep since the intro, patrol the windows
I reminisce, with the chalice and my eyes half closed

If I could do it again, I'd probably do it the same
Thought I was through with the game, I'm goin' through it again
The hood life, I'm in it to the limit
Couldn't quit it for a digit, die for it 'cause I live it

It's just a sign of the times
Calmly listen to these lines
I'm goin out of my mind
Livin' the street life

Yo, been around the world but just can't seem to leave
The state of mind that causes tangled web I weave
Made my home in the heart of it
Movie like Seagal, Hard Target

Most want no part of it, it's logic cutthroat party in the shark pit
Cold blooded souls carry bulldogs and oxes, knowledge this
Maintain and remain sane
In the cold world where the rules ain't changed

Still rebel to society, government be eyein' me
They probably watchin' me right now as I'm speakin'
But all I'm guilty of is teachin' you the truth
They got proof, so you know I'll be home before the weekend

The hood life, I'm in it to the limit
In it from the scrimmage, livin' it, lovin' every minute
And every hour, 'til the powers that be
Eventually stress me to the death

Y'all know the science right?
Death with the intellect
Aight, aight represent, I make it hot
13th chamber specialist from the bricks

It's just a sign of the times
Calmly listen to these lines
I'm goin' out of my mind
Livin' the street life

Street life so trife
Street life for life
Feels like feels like
My paradise

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73ce15a2c0ba865a868f85b6ea9dc34a

How High (Remix) - Lyrics - Method Man

Title: How High (Remix)
Artist: Method Man
Composer(s): E Sermon, C Smith, R Noble

Lyric:
Takin it from the top?
Tippy? Tippy?
How high?
The Ultimate high

'Scuse me as I kiss the sky
Sing a song of six pence, a pocket full a rye
Who the fuck wanna die for their culture?
Stalk the dead body like a vulture

Tical get, blacker than your blackest stallion
Hit your house'n projects, I represent the Shaolin my nigga
Hell yes, 'Apocalypse Now', the gun blow
It be goin' down, diggy diggy down diggy down down

While the planets and the stars and the moons collapse
When I raise my trigga finga all y'all niggaz hit the decks
'Cause ain't no need for that, hustlers and hardcores
Raw to the floor raw like Reservoir Dogs

The Green-Eyed Bandit can't stand it
With more Fruitier Loops then that Toucan Sam Bitch
Plus, the Bombazee got me wild
Fuckin' with us is a straight suicide

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 Murder 1, lyric at your door
Tical bring it to that ass raw
Breakin' all the rules like glass jaws
Nigga, you got to get mine to get yours

Fucka, we don't need no rap tour
I'd rather kick the facts and catch you with the rapture
More than you bargained for
Tical, that stays open like an all night store

For real, I keeps it ill like a piece of blue steel
Pointed at your temple with the intent to kill
And end your existence, M-E-T
Ain't no use for resistance, H-O-D

I bees the ultimate rush to any nigga on dust
The Egyptian Musk use to have me pull mad sluts
I shift like a clutch with the Ruck
Examine my nuts, I don't stop till I get enough

Your shit broke down, light your flare
Since the dark side tears you into Hollywood squares
6 million ways to die, so I chose
Made it 6 million and 1 with your eyes closed

The blindfold, cold, so you can feel the rap
And shatter the glass and second half on your monkey ass
And yo my man, hit me now
(Tical)
Bitches use to play me, now they can't forget me now

Forget me not, I rock the spot, check glock
Empty off a lickin' off a hip hop
Fuck the billboard, I'm a bullet on my block
How you dope when you payed for your Billboard spot?

Look up in the sky, it's a bird, it's a plane
It's the funk doctor spock smokin' Buddha on a train
How high? So high that I can kiss the sky
How sick? So sick that you can suck my dick

Look up in the sky it's a bird it's a plane
Recognize, Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed
How high? So high that I can kiss the sky
How sick? So sick that you can suck my dick

'Til my man Raider Ruckus come home
It ain't really on till the Ruckus get, home
Puff a meth bone, now I'm off to the red zone
We don't need your dirt weed we got a fuckin' O

Check it, I brings havoc with my hectic
Bring the Pain lyrics screamin' for the antiseptic
Movin' on your left kid, and I'm methted, out my fuckin' dome piece
Plus I got no love for the beast

Hailin' from the big East Coast
Where niggaz pack toast
Home of the drug kingpins and cut throats
(Hey boy, you's the rude boy on the block)
(You try and stop the bum rush you will get popped)
As I run around with a racist

My style was born in the 50 stair cases
Dig it, eff a rap critic
He talk about it while I live it
If Red got the blunt, I'm the second one to hit it

Look up in the, I got the verbs, nouns and glocks in ya
Enter the centa, lyrics bang like rico-chet
Rabbit, I brings havoc with an A-K matic
Rollin' blunts an all day habit

I get it on like Smif'n'Wes
Punks take a sip and test
Who split your vest
The funk phenomenon

I'm bombin' you like Lebanon
Blow canals of Panama
Just off stamina
Styles not to be fucked with, or played with

Fuck the pretty hoes, I love those, Section A Bitches
Hittin' switches, twistin' wigs with
Fat radical mathematical type scriptures
I dig up in your planets like Diga

Boo, scared you, blew you to smithereens
Fuck the marines, I got machines
To light the spliff, and read Mad magazine
I fly more heads than Continental

Wreck ya 5 times like US AIR off an instrumental
Look I'm not a half way crook with bad looks
But I may murder your case like your name was Cal Brooks
I breaks 'em up proppa

Ask Biggie Smalls 'Who Shot Ya'
Funk doctor, with the 12 Gauge Mossberg
Look, I got the tools like Rickle
To make your mind tickle

For the nine nickle
(Yo Red, yo Red)
Punk ass pussy ass
(You ain't gotta say no more man, that's it)
Word up Tical, we out
(It's over)

Play the MP3 online for free!

88a6d40359925e162f397f0b1472593c

How High (Part 2) - Lyrics - Method Man

Title: How High (Part 2)
Artist: Method Man
Composer(s): E Sermon, C Smith, R Noble

Lyric:
Takin it from the top?
Tippy? Tippy?
How high?
The Ultimate high

'Scuse me as I kiss the sky
Sing a song of six pence, a pocket full a rye
Who the fuck wanna die for their culture?
Stalk the dead body like a vulture

Tical get, blacker than your blackest stallion
Hit your house'n projects, I represent the Shaolin my nigga
Hell yes, 'Apocalypse Now', the gun blow
It be goin' down, diggy diggy down diggy down down

While the planets and the stars and the moons collapse
When I raise my trigga finga all y'all niggaz hit the decks
'Cause ain't no need for that, hustlers and hardcores
Raw to the floor raw like Reservoir Dogs

The Green-Eyed Bandit can't stand it
With more Fruitier Loops then that Toucan Sam Bitch
Plus, the Bombazee got me wild
Fuckin' with us is a straight suicide

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 Murder 1, lyric at your door
Tical bring it to that ass raw
Breakin' all the rules like glass jaws
Nigga, you got to get mine to get yours

Fucka, we don't need no rap tour
I'd rather kick the facts and catch you with the rapture
More than you bargained for
Tical, that stays open like an all night store

For real, I keeps it ill like a piece of blue steel
Pointed at your temple with the intent to kill
And end your existence, M-E-T
Ain't no use for resistance, H-O-D

I bees the ultimate rush to any nigga on dust
The Egyptian Musk use to have me pull mad sluts
I shift like a clutch with the Ruck
Examine my nuts, I don't stop till I get enough

Your shit broke down, light your flare
Since the dark side tears you into Hollywood squares
6 million ways to die, so I chose
Made it 6 million and 1 with your eyes closed

The blindfold, cold, so you can feel the rap
And shatter the glass and second half on your monkey ass
And yo my man, hit me now
(Tical)
Bitches use to play me, now they can't forget me now

Forget me not, I rock the spot, check glock
Empty off a lickin' off a hip hop
Fuck the billboard, I'm a bullet on my block
How you dope when you payed for your Billboard spot?

Look up in the sky, it's a bird, it's a plane
It's the funk doctor spock smokin' Buddha on a train
How high? So high that I can kiss the sky
How sick? So sick that you can suck my dick

Look up in the sky it's a bird it's a plane
Recognize, Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed
How high? So high that I can kiss the sky
How sick? So sick that you can suck my dick

'Til my man Raider Ruckus come home
It ain't really on till the Ruckus get, home
Puff a meth bone, now I'm off to the red zone
We don't need your dirt weed we got a fuckin' O

Check it, I brings havoc with my hectic
Bring the Pain lyrics screamin' for the antiseptic
Movin' on your left kid, and I'm methted, out my fuckin' dome piece
Plus I got no love for the beast

Hailin' from the big East Coast
Where niggaz pack toast
Home of the drug kingpins and cut throats
(Hey boy, you's the rude boy on the block)
(You try and stop the bum rush you will get popped)
As I run around with a racist

My style was born in the 50 stair cases
Dig it, eff a rap critic
He talk about it while I live it
If Red got the blunt, I'm the second one to hit it

Look up in the, I got the verbs, nouns and glocks in ya
Enter the centa, lyrics bang like rico-chet
Rabbit, I brings havoc with an A-K matic
Rollin' blunts an all day habit

I get it on like Smif'n'Wes
Punks take a sip and test
Who split your vest
The funk phenomenon

I'm bombin' you like Lebanon
Blow canals of Panama
Just off stamina
Styles not to be fucked with, or played with

Fuck the pretty hoes, I love those, Section A Bitches
Hittin' switches, twistin' wigs with
Fat radical mathematical type scriptures
I dig up in your planets like Diga

Boo, scared you, blew you to smithereens
Fuck the marines, I got machines
To light the spliff, and read Mad magazine
I fly more heads than Continental

Wreck ya 5 times like US AIR off an instrumental
Look I'm not a half way crook with bad looks
But I may murder your case like your name was Cal Brooks
I breaks 'em up proppa

Ask Biggie Smalls 'Who Shot Ya'
Funk doctor, with the 12 Gauge Mossberg
Look, I got the tools like Rickle
To make your mind tickle

For the nine nickle
(Yo Red, yo Red)
Punk ass pussy ass
(You ain't gotta say no more man, that's it)
Word up Tical, we out
(It's over)

Play the MP3 online for free!

e03e7bed6d695371a30d03ada453952b

How High - Lyrics - Tical 2000 Judgementday - Method Man

Title: How High
Album: Tical 2000 Judgementday
Artist: Method Man
Composer(s): E Sermon, C Smith, R Noble

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

Lyric:
Takin it from the top?
Tippy? Tippy?
How high?
The Ultimate high

'Scuse me as I kiss the sky
Sing a song of six pence, a pocket full a rye
Who the fuck wanna die for their culture?
Stalk the dead body like a vulture

Tical get, blacker than your blackest stallion
Hit your house'n projects, I represent the Shaolin my nigga
Hell yes, 'Apocalypse Now', the gun blow
It be goin' down, diggy diggy down diggy down down

While the planets and the stars and the moons collapse
When I raise my trigga finga all y'all niggaz hit the decks
'Cause ain't no need for that, hustlers and hardcores
Raw to the floor raw like Reservoir Dogs

The Green-Eyed Bandit can't stand it
With more Fruitier Loops then that Toucan Sam Bitch
Plus, the Bombazee got me wild
Fuckin' with us is a straight suicide

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 Murder 1, lyric at your door
Tical bring it to that ass raw
Breakin' all the rules like glass jaws
Nigga, you got to get mine to get yours

Fucka, we don't need no rap tour
I'd rather kick the facts and catch you with the rapture
More than you bargained for
Tical, that stays open like an all night store

For real, I keeps it ill like a piece of blue steel
Pointed at your temple with the intent to kill
And end your existence, M-E-T
Ain't no use for resistance, H-O-D

I bees the ultimate rush to any nigga on dust
The Egyptian Musk use to have me pull mad sluts
I shift like a clutch with the Ruck
Examine my nuts, I don't stop till I get enough

Your shit broke down, light your flare
Since the dark side tears you into Hollywood squares
6 million ways to die, so I chose
Made it 6 million and 1 with your eyes closed

The blindfold, cold, so you can feel the rap
And shatter the glass and second half on your monkey ass
And yo my man, hit me now
(Tical)
Bitches use to play me, now they can't forget me now

Forget me not, I rock the spot, check glock
Empty off a lickin' off a hip hop
Fuck the billboard, I'm a bullet on my block
How you dope when you payed for your Billboard spot?

Look up in the sky, it's a bird, it's a plane
It's the funk doctor spock smokin' Buddha on a train
How high? So high that I can kiss the sky
How sick? So sick that you can suck my dick

Look up in the sky it's a bird it's a plane
Recognize, Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed
How high? So high that I can kiss the sky
How sick? So sick that you can suck my dick

'Til my man Raider Ruckus come home
It ain't really on till the Ruckus get, home
Puff a meth bone, now I'm off to the red zone
We don't need your dirt weed we got a fuckin' O

Check it, I brings havoc with my hectic
Bring the Pain lyrics screamin' for the antiseptic
Movin' on your left kid, and I'm methted, out my fuckin' dome piece
Plus I got no love for the beast

Hailin' from the big East Coast
Where niggaz pack toast
Home of the drug kingpins and cut throats
(Hey boy, you's the rude boy on the block)
(You try and stop the bum rush you will get popped)
As I run around with a racist

My style was born in the 50 stair cases
Dig it, eff a rap critic
He talk about it while I live it
If Red got the blunt, I'm the second one to hit it

Look up in the, I got the verbs, nouns and glocks in ya
Enter the centa, lyrics bang like rico-chet
Rabbit, I brings havoc with an A-K matic
Rollin' blunts an all day habit

I get it on like Smif'n'Wes
Punks take a sip and test
Who split your vest
The funk phenomenon

I'm bombin' you like Lebanon
Blow canals of Panama
Just off stamina
Styles not to be fucked with, or played with

Fuck the pretty hoes, I love those, Section A Bitches
Hittin' switches, twistin' wigs with
Fat radical mathematical type scriptures
I dig up in your planets like Diga

Boo, scared you, blew you to smithereens
Fuck the marines, I got machines
To light the spliff, and read Mad magazine
I fly more heads than Continental

Wreck ya 5 times like US AIR off an instrumental
Look I'm not a half way crook with bad looks
But I may murder your case like your name was Cal Brooks
I breaks 'em up proppa

Ask Biggie Smalls 'Who Shot Ya'
Funk doctor, with the 12 Gauge Mossberg
Look, I got the tools like Rickle
To make your mind tickle

For the nine nickle
(Yo Red, yo Red)
Punk ass pussy ass
(You ain't gotta say no more man, that's it)
Word up Tical, we out
(It's over)

Play the MP3 online for free!

40216e9571f683b80ef99617964030b9

Take Tha Hood Back - Lyrics - Underground Kingz - Ugk

Title: Take Tha Hood Back
Album: Underground Kingz
Artist: Ugk
Composer(s): Chad Butler, George Hill, Eric Johnson, Avery Stevenson, Andrew Harr, Stayve Thomas, Bernard Freeman, Jermaine Jackson

Lyric:
Yeah nigga, the hood is fucked up right now
You niggaz got shit all crossed-up
Niggaz got the game real twisted, right now
You niggaz is really hustlin' wrong
You niggaz got your grind wrong, mayne

I gotta watch you hoe-ass niggaz
It's time for the teacher
To sit back in the front of the class, nigga
Right over the blackboard
And teach you hoe-ass niggaz the rules, nigga

'Cause ain't nobody showin? you niggaz
How to get money the right way
If you gon' get money, bitch
'Cause you gon' fuck everybody money up on the real

Now all my hustlers, grinders and ballers, open up your mind
A lot of niggaz hustlin' backwards, need to press rewind
There's some niggaz playin' dirty pool, bad Cali bandits
They crossin' up the Trill and man, ya boy just can't stand it

Motherfuckers need to be reprimanded and straight jacked
These boys is givin' the wrong niggaz out here respect
Break ya neck to fuck wit a nigga that compromise yo? hood
Yo? doin' shit you know it cool until the good

Got kids movin' work, hustlin' by the school
Using youngsters, they hits states, this whole shit on the cool
Matter ?fact, fuck the cool, you niggaz need to hear me
Breakin' bread with certified snitches, don't come near me

You niggaz givin' these canaries all these passes
Fuck gettin' dough wit a snitch, get in they asses
I'm teachin' classes, Dope Slangin? 101
These hoe-ass niggaz don't want none of Bun
I'm takin' the hood back

Niggaz gettin' knocked goin' fed and six months ya back?
Off with his head, we takin' the hood back
Damn, I coulda swore they gave ya ass ten flat
Now you're home, somethin' wrong, we takin' the hood back

You liar, aight, but he ain't got it like that
Hell naw, we takin' the hood back
We in the club like it's good, in the hood and you a rat
Click clack, motherfucker, we takin' the hood back

I'm a G, hell yeah, I don't bull
Got yo? bitch lookin' mad while them Fingaz so full
I drank hard while you niggaz drank Bull
But the boy like Diddy fed, Bam got pulled

And I was taught to hold my own
Picture spider lock ya down, brother burna zone, nigga
Hell yeah, I'm bout dat, shirt slacks all black
Come through sunny side and leave yo' house flat

Yeah, I grind for the paper, fuck small towns, go major
Fuck a cell phones, goin' pagers
It's young low Frazier, shoot good with no lasers
And every shot hit, I don't throw no grazer

Some killa talk, nigga and real talk nigga
Middlefingaz' a ridah, whoever killed off, nigga
And I put that on Pat, Screw and Steve
Young low bitch, I clap you and leave, hoe
We takin' the hood back

Niggaz gettin' knocked goin' fed and six months ya back?
Off with his head, we takin' the hood back
Damn, I coulda swore they gave ya ass ten flat
Now you're home, somethin' wrong, we takin' the hood back

You liar, aight, but he ain't got it like that
Hell naw, we takin' the hood back
We in the club like it's good, in the hood and you a rat
Click clack, motherfucker, we takin' the hood back

A thousand-eight grams, enough to get yo? ass right
You smart wit it, get caught wit it, enough to get yo? ass life
From out here in these trenches
Ain't no fuckn' love or second chance
Small-time offender, lose yo? ass, you get enhanced

Speak not, keep yo' mouth shut, investigate the whole place
Make 'em think it's cool, follow that nigga round the whole day
The game ain't the same at all, changed for the worst
Nigga got the less time ?cause he came wit it first

See I disperse to dope, the most convicted felon, strictly G's
No more Glock shit, rock shit, strictly ki?s
I gets my paper, I was taught by older niggaz
Cold blooded killas, dope dealers, Sodom niggaz

I'm alert, I'm aware, I'm focused, I'm on top of shit
I show you how to stop that bitch
Get ig'nant wit this choppa bitch
Tomorrow ain't promised, snitch today, die tonight
We know your spot, me and my niggaz gon' ride tonight

Niggaz gettin' knocked goin' fed and six months ya back?
Off with his head, we takin' the hood back
Damn, I coulda swore they gave ya ass ten flat
Now you're home, somethin' wrong, we takin' the hood back

You liar, aight, but he ain't got it like that
Hell naw, we takin' the hood back
We in the club like it's good, in the hood and you a rat
Click clack, motherfucker, we takin' the hood back

I'm takin? back the streets, thang on the C
On parole but I'm cold wit the heat
Candy coated rock baller, twenty-chop crawler
Bitches tryna steal my dick, I ain't ?bout to call her

There?s a lotta niggaz rappin?, playin' games
I don't see none of the shit that you name
Where the car at? Where the bread at?
Where the girl you say that got that 'Five head' at?

Where the rocks at? Where the Glocks at?
In yo' mind and on the mic, the only place it's at
That's my lifestyle you rappin' 'bout
I'm havin' everythin? you pussy niggaz yappin' 'bout

When you see some cocaine
You say you got it, nigga, bring me ten thangs
He gotta call his connect and shit
And he ain't got you co-na-vict nigga, I'm takin' my hood back

Niggaz gettin' knocked goin' fed and six months ya back?
Off with his head, we takin' the hood back
Damn, I coulda swore they gave ya ass ten flat
Now you're home, somethin' wrong, we takin' the hood back

You liar, aight, but he ain't got it like that
Hell naw, we takin' the hood back
We in the club like it's good, in the hood and you a rat
Click clack, motherfucker, we takin' the hood back

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7667f2229aaf4ac6e9fa24164dbc234a

Gotta Get My Roll On - Lyrics - Montell Jordan

Title: Gotta Get My Roll On
Artist: Montell Jordan
Composer(s): Gregory Allen Webster, Marshall Jones, Montell Du Sean Jordan, Leroy Bonner, Arthur K Adams, Walter Morrison, Andrew Noland, Marvin Pierce, Ralph Middlebrooks, Norman Napier

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

Lyric:
Montell can you get down
Can you ball Montell?
You got game?
Okay buddy
Okay
I know he ain't got no game

From the West side to the East side
From the North side to the South side
I got good dues if you like the rules
I said, I got good dues
Oh oh ohh, oh yeah
Oh yeah, oh yeah

The sun comes up in my neighborhood
I scratch my nuts, and man it sure feels good
I'm leanin' in the corner like I'm barely alive
'Cause I remember a time when I didn't have a ride

Always in the passenger seat
And always next to last when the honeys, we would meet
But now that things have changed, slightly re-arranged
I must admit, it's kinda strange

To be walkin' down the 'Shaw with my big black boots
And my happy Nappy wear, and my Karl Kani suits
I got a big truck, it's parked up the block, and
I see ya ladies jockin', yeah, you're takin' stock

Now that I have your attention, did I mention
I got back in L.A., uh, it's in my CD player
The days of ol' when I used to get my stroll on
Are now long gone, 'cause

I gotta get my roll on
I've got to get mine
Don't you know it's time
I gotta get my roll on

Said, I gotta get my roll on
I've got to get mine
Don't you know it's time
I gotta get my roll on
Now check it

I'm sitting in my ride
And all the honeys all look inside
And see what's going on
'Cause a brotha got a telephone

They roll up slow, but they have to squint
'Cause my windows have a real dark tint
To keep these hoochies steady starin'
Tryin' to see what a nigga is wearin'

My license plate says, 'Swing'
And you know they're thinkin' crazy things
About chandeliers and ice cream bars
And sick sick brothas, and the big black cars

But hold on tight my dear
'Cause Monty got speakers out to here
I'll have you shakin' your head like you're losin' control
Because I gotta, I gotta, I gotta roll

I gotta get my roll on
I've got to get mine
Don't you know it's time
I gotta get my roll on

I said, I gotta get my roll on
I've got to get mine
Don't you know it's time
I gotta get my roll on

I'm at Sharwin King, I checks my rear-view mirror
A nigga like Monty needs to see a little clearer
Then I hear a honey honkin' at my Rover
She says, "Pull over", so I pull over

Out jumps my ride and I go to the curb
My [Incomprehensible] to her, I attempts to serve
She say she likes me, she's jockin' my crew
So tell me what the hell am I supposed to do

She's givin' me love, she's givin' me love
So I write my phone number on a dub
Then I pass it through the window, it's back inside
'Cause all of my niggas like to ride, yeah

I might make her my girl
'Cause she says she wants to take me to the top of the world
But I don't know, I think she better hold on
'Cause a brotha like Monty

Has got to get his roll on
I've got to get mine
Don't you know it's time
I gotta get my roll on

I said, I gotta get my roll on
I've got to get mine
Don't you know it's time
I gotta get my roll on

O.G. gotta get his roll on
Paul Stewart gotta get his roll on
If I'm talkin' to your girl, you better hold on
You know I gotta get my roll on

P.M. gotta get they roll on
My brother Mark gotta get his roll on
Now [Incomprehensible] has gotta get his roll on
You know I gotta get my roll on

B-Low gotta get his roll on
T.M. gotta get his roll on
If I'm thinkin' ways to get my sole on
You know I gotta get my roll on
I gotta get mine, I gotta get mine
Said, I gotta get mine, gotta get mine

Russell Simmons gotta get his roll on
Dior gotta get his roll on
Def Jam has gotta get their roll on
Power Moves gotta get your roll on
And Monty gotta get his roll on

You know why I can tell Montell?
'Cause you don't walk like a ball player
You walk just like, "Yay, I'm happy"
You know?
But I know he can sing though
The album, the boy's album is nice

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f5e668d76239cdbe9fbe4b9e53ad4fed

You Came Up - Lyrics - Big Punisher

Title: You Came Up
Artist: Big Punisher
Composer(s): Christopher Rios, Victor Santiago, Dana Stinson

Lyric:
Yo, what the deal baby? I see ya, awight?
Still not a player but you still a hater
Pun hater, where my horns at?
Where my horns? That's right

Pun, you came up, what, what? Makin' it happen
From rappin' on the corner of blocks we going platinum
But when we roll, are you still ready to ride?
Yo, I be ready to ride and I be ready to die

Pun, you came up, what, what? Makin' it happen
From rappin' on the corner of blocks we going platinum
But when we roll, are you still ready to ride?
Yo, I be ready to ride and I be ready to die

Ay yo, my word is born, long as I'm alive, I'ma put it on
Could'a gone to gee shit, thug nigga, till I'm gone
Where to Bronx I'm flippin', five boroughs thoroughly reppin'
Let's unite the city and step to the world as a weapon

'Cuz everybody's checkin' for Pun, second to none
'Cuz Latins going platinum was destined to come
The inevitable, heavenly better than whatever you do
We eligible, GS's incredibly credible

For the revenue we getting', you open with lyrical dope
And these breaths that are potent is like an injectional dose
And it never quits, take it from TS's top terrorist
Rapper slash hijacker bombin' tracks ever since

I was young, I wasn't always Big Pun
It wasn't always this fun, ay yo, I rose from the slums
I had to pay my due, lay a few but I ain't sayin' who
Stayin' true to the game, no names, playin' it cool, just me and the crew

Holdin' it down long as we 'round
We gonna keep sockin' it to you like Homey the Clown
Goin' down like Pac ready to ride or die nigga
La da la la la la la la

Pun, you came up, what, what? Makin' it happen
From rappin' on the corner of blocks we going platinum
But when we roll, are you still ready to ride?
Yo, I be ready to ride and I be ready to die

Pun, you came up, what, what? Makin' it happen
From rappin' on the corner of blocks we going platinum
But when we roll, are you still ready to ride?
Yo, I be ready to ride and I be ready to die

Ay yo ain't nothin' changed, I'm still the same
The way you remembered me since the centipede
Harder, big blacker back in the seventies
Try to remember me from my aggressive will
The way I kept it real is more important than any record deal

I used to chill on the block with Cuban and Seis
I'm still do but now it's in the blue convertible eight fifty
My true niggaz will always be with me
The shifty kiss me, tell me they miss me, then try to dis me

'Cuz I'm rispy crispy for life, sixties the price
Another fifty for the Cuban twisted in ice
Niggaz is shiest but I psyche 'em out though they like to doubt
I make them all believers once I let the Tyson out

'Cuz I can vouch for only a few, only the crew
From the old school I consider loyally true
I'm morally rude from a fool to a scholar
Follow the rules on how to spot a plotta that's cool for a dollar

I wanna holla at my peeps that's reppin' the streets
Wrestlin' the beast of chest restin' in peace
Blessin' my seeds and watchin' over us 'til I die
I'll align the souls of mine and shine for all of us

Pun, you came up, what, what? Makin' it happen
From rappin' on the corner of blocks we going platinum
But when we roll, are you still ready to ride?
Yo, I be ready to ride and I be ready to die

Pun, you came up, what, what? Makin' it happen
From rappin' on the corner of blocks we going platinum
But when we roll, are you still ready to ride?
Yo, I be ready to ride and I be ready to die

[Incomprehensible]
For ma thug niggas, thug niggas, thug niggas

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a5de95f6adce450f89515e60aba73d8f

Proud To Be A Dread - Lyrics - Supernatural - Des'Ree

Title: Proud To Be A Dread
Album: Supernatural
Artist: Des'Ree
Composer(s): Michael Graves, Des'Ree Weekes

Lyric:
Tafari tries to get a job
Ten letters behind his name
Born up in the cornfields
Tafari doesn't know the game
The game is no respect for life
Even less for rules
Winners only need apply
Sorry no rooms for fools

Tafari, looks up to the stars and
Wonders if there's life on Mars
Some say, he should shave his head
But he's proud to be a dread

'Cos, I'll be better, I'll be stronger
For the truth, I know takes longer
I've the cunning of the tiger
And the Wisdom of the trees
I won't be sad, refuse the sorrow
I look forward to tomorrow
I'll release my anger
'Cos I'm proud to be a dread

Selassie, tries to find a home
To rest his weary head
A place where he can take his girl
To share this spiritual bed
When he's greeted at the door
The sign has changed his tune
Though the queen is full of child
Sorry, there's no room

Selassie looks up to the clouds
He curses hard and shouts out loud
Remembering his father's words
A whisper from the dead

'Cos, I'll be better, I'll be stronger
For the truth, I know takes longer
I've the cunning of the tiger
And the wisdom of the trees
I won't be sad, refuse the sorrow
I look forward to tomorrow
I'll release my anger
'Cos I'm proud to be a dread

'Cos in this life, you have to take a chance
Why else live at all
'Cos in this life, to climb a mountain
Sometimes expect to fall
'Cos in this life nothing comes easy
If it does, it has a price
'Cos in this life a martyr suffers
Look at Jesus Christ

Leo, faces many trials
But hold hid head up high
He won't allow the hatred
To Make his spirit cry
Leo looks up to the moon
Sitting in its silver spoon
Maybe I should change my job
Be an astronaut instead

'Cos, I'll be better, I'll be stronger
For the truth, I know takes longer
I've the cunning of the tiger
And the wisdom of the trees
I won't be sad, refuse the sorrow
I look forward to tomorrow
I'll release my anger
'Cos I'm proud to be a dread

I'll release my anger
'Cos I'm proud to be a dread

'Cos, I'll be better, I'll be stronger
For the truth, I'll be a seeker
I've the cunning of the tiger
And the wisdom of the trees
In my dealings I'll be honest
To myself I make this promise

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a8cb839fea2d7ff9d1f98d5ea870c1d2

Bridging The Gap - Lyrics - Street's Disciple - Nas

Title: Bridging The Gap
Album: Street's Disciple
Artist: Nas
Composer(s): Salaam Remi, Mckinley Morganfield, Mel London, Olu Dara, Nasir Jones, Ellas Mcdaniel

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

Lyric:
The light is there, yeah yeah
See I come from Mississippi
I was young and runnin' wild
Ended up in New York City, where I had my first child
I named the boy Nasir, all the boys call him Nas
I told him as a youngster, he'll be the greatest man alive

Let's go, hey hey hey hey
Tribrary of these rap skits, styles I mastered
Many brothers snatched it up and tried to match it
But I'm still number one, everyday real
Speak what I want, I don't care what y'all feel
'Cause I'm my own master
My Pop told me, "Be your own boss keep integrity at every cost"
And his home was Natchez Mississippi
Did it like Miles and Dizzy, now we gettin' busy

Bridging The Gap from the blues, to jazz, to rap
The history of music on this track
Born in the game, discovered my father's music
Like Prince searchin' through boxes of Purple Rain
But my Minneapolis was The Bridge, home of the Superkids
Some are well-known, some doin' bids
I mighta ended up on the wrong side of the tracks
If Pops wouldn't've pulled me back an said yo

See I come from Mississippi
I was young and runnin' wild
Ended up in New York City, where I had my first child
I named the boy Nasir, all the boys call him Nas
I told him as a youngster, he'll be the greatest man alive
Greatest man alive, gre-gre-gre-gre-greatest man alive

The blues came from gospel, gospel from blues
Slaves are harmonizin' them ah's and ooh's
Old school, new school, know school rules
All these years I been voicin' my blues
I'm a artist from the start, hip-hop guided my heart
Graffiti on the wall, coulda ended in Spoffard, juvenile delinquent
But Pops gave me the right type'a tools to think with

Books to read, like X and stuff
'Cause the schools said the kids had dyslexia
In art class I was a compulsive sketcher of
Teachers in my homeroom, I drew pix to mess them up
'Cause none'a them would like my style
Read more books than the curriculum profile
Said, "Mr. Jones please come get your child
'Cause he's writin' mad poems and his verses are wild"

I was born in Mississippi
I was young and runnin' wild
Moved to New York City, where I had my first child
I named the boy Nasir, all the boys call him Nas
I told him as a youngster, he'll be the greatest man alive
Greatest man, the great-greatest man alive

Hey hey hey, my Poppa was not a Rollin' Stone
He been around the world blowin' his horn, still he came home
Then he got grown, changed his name to Olu
Come on, tell 'em 'bout all the places you gone to

I been to Saudi Arabia, Mozambique
Madagascar, Paris, Greece
The Middle Africa is where we lived
Better known as Queenbridge

Nas, Nas you don't stop
Olu Dara in the house, you don't stop
Muddy Waters' Howling Wolf you don't stop
From the Blues to Street Hop you don't stop
Tell 'em Pop

See I come from Mississippi
I was young and runnin' wild
Ended up in New York City, where I had my first child
I named the boy Nasir, all the boys call him Nas
I told him as a youngster, he'll be the greatest man alive
Greatest man alive, gre-gre-gre-gre-greatest man alive
Rest in peace Ray Charles

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ff8af3f2154fa6dd2192042a8872b693

To Tha Girlz - Lyrics - Erick Sermon

Title: To Tha Girlz
Artist: Erick Sermon
Composer(s): Erick Sermon, Dorsey Wesley

Lyric:
Yeah, Mega, uh-huh
Yeah, wh-wha, wha-wha-what?
Woo, uh-huh
Y'all stinkin' that Squad out there
Uh-huh, 610, Megahertz, what
Yo yo sup, be chicks over here
Shh, everybody let's go, yo, yeah
Well, brother things done got too far gone
We got to let the girls know
What they got to do for us

Yo, I like 'em nine-ten-twelve, you know what that spell
Done fingernails and their toes as well
I dig a big boned chick, but that's just me
I like my baby phat, like Amora Lee

E-D, I'ma sage, I hit 'em with the arrow
The girls think I'm Cupid, I'm like, "It's me stupid"
Yeah, I want a girl to prefer an independent
To do somethin' different with her, cash I'll spend it

Chicks that got, they proud 'cause they made it
They can't find a man 'cause dudes' intimidated
Intimidate me? Show me the money and the crib
And the car, that's yo' new Jaguar?

A workin' woman, attracts to E
Don't mind doin' for dem, they don't need me so
Females take heed to what I'm sayin'
Tonight's the night, and me and my niggas ain't playin'

Yeah, to all the girls I might take home, hah
To all the girls I might take home, huh
To all the girls I might take home
Excuse me, may I have your attention?

Can I?
(Yes you can)
Can I?
(Yes you can)
Can I?
(Yes you can)
Can I?
(Yes you can)

Yo, yo, I need a girl too, but not you
I'm not bein' rude, I'm a different type dude
I'm not gonna trick on you, I'm not Houdini
I seen you somewhere before you seen me

But I wasn't hot though
No power, no mojo, played me like an old Volvo
Yo' kind been there
You got highway miles on you girl, so why would I spend there?

You want champagne to sip? Then you buy it
See how it feels sometimes, homegirl try it
Don't stop there, for real
Do it again next time when you out, pay for the meal

Uhh, already been there, uh, so I'm tellin' you
It's a Scary Movie, Tori Spelling move
Ain't nuttin' changed, same song as Golddigger
Same rules apply for the same ass nigga, what?

To all the girls I might take home, huh
To all the girls I might take home, huh
To all the girls I might take home
Excuse me, may I have your attention?

Can I?
(Yes you can)
Can I?
(Yes you can)
Yeah, can I?
(Yes you can)
Can I? Yeah
(Yes you can)

Yeah, aiyyo here's a few rules, don't approach me
In any fashion chick, without the proper tools
Yeah tools meaning school, a job, things
A place that's yours, so you can slam doors

'Cause without that, talkin' to me, no need
You're grown and I already got kids to feed
So unless you my baby momma
I don't want the Dave Hollister drama 'cause that's bad karma, trick

To all the girls I might take home, huh
To all the girls I might take home, huh
To all the girls I might take home
Excuse me, may I have your attention?

Can I?
(Yes you can)
Can I?
(Yes you can)
Yeah, can I?
(Yes you can)
Can I? Yeah
(Yes you can)

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f168bcfa3b3d554f0549ae3e7e3dbd33

To Tha Girlz (Dirty Version) - Lyrics - React - Erick Sermon

Title: To Tha Girlz (Dirty Version)
Album: React
Artist: Erick Sermon
Composer(s): Erick Sermon, Dorsey Wesley

Lyric:
Yeah, Mega, uh-huh
Yeah, wh-wha, wha-wha-what?
Woo, uh-huh
Y'all stinkin' that Squad out there
Uh-huh, 610, Megahertz, what
Yo yo sup, be chicks over here
Shh, everybody let's go, yo, yeah
Well, brother things done got too far gone
We got to let the girls know
What they got to do for us

Yo, I like 'em nine-ten-twelve, you know what that spell
Done fingernails and their toes as well
I dig a big boned chick, but that's just me
I like my baby phat, like Amora Lee

E-D, I'ma sage, I hit 'em with the arrow
The girls think I'm Cupid, I'm like, "It's me stupid"
Yeah, I want a girl to prefer an independent
To do somethin' different with her, cash I'll spend it

Chicks that got, they proud 'cause they made it
They can't find a man 'cause dudes' intimidated
Intimidate me? Show me the money and the crib
And the car, that's yo' new Jaguar?

A workin' woman, attracts to E
Don't mind doin' for dem, they don't need me so
Females take heed to what I'm sayin'
Tonight's the night, and me and my niggas ain't playin'

Yeah, to all the girls I might take home, hah
To all the girls I might take home, huh
To all the girls I might take home
Excuse me, may I have your attention?

Can I?
(Yes you can)
Can I?
(Yes you can)
Can I?
(Yes you can)
Can I?
(Yes you can)

Yo, yo, I need a girl too, but not you
I'm not bein' rude, I'm a different type dude
I'm not gonna trick on you, I'm not Houdini
I seen you somewhere before you seen me

But I wasn't hot though
No power, no mojo, played me like an old Volvo
Yo' kind been there
You got highway miles on you girl, so why would I spend there?

You want champagne to sip? Then you buy it
See how it feels sometimes, homegirl try it
Don't stop there, for real
Do it again next time when you out, pay for the meal

Uhh, already been there, uh, so I'm tellin' you
It's a Scary Movie, Tori Spelling move
Ain't nuttin' changed, same song as Golddigger
Same rules apply for the same ass nigga, what?

To all the girls I might take home, huh
To all the girls I might take home, huh
To all the girls I might take home
Excuse me, may I have your attention?

Can I?
(Yes you can)
Can I?
(Yes you can)
Yeah, can I?
(Yes you can)
Can I? Yeah
(Yes you can)

Yeah, aiyyo here's a few rules, don't approach me
In any fashion chick, without the proper tools
Yeah tools meaning school, a job, things
A place that's yours, so you can slam doors

'Cause without that, talkin' to me, no need
You're grown and I already got kids to feed
So unless you my baby momma
I don't want the Dave Hollister drama 'cause that's bad karma, trick

To all the girls I might take home, huh
To all the girls I might take home, huh
To all the girls I might take home
Excuse me, may I have your attention?

Can I?
(Yes you can)
Can I?
(Yes you can)
Yeah, can I?
(Yes you can)
Can I? Yeah
(Yes you can)

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1363cc25b3d013e1b2f61b1b37dc14ea

Love'S Still Alright - Lyrics - Chante Moore

Title: Love'S Still Alright
Artist: Chante Moore
Composer(s): Terry Lewis, Chante Moore, James Wright, James Harris Iii

Lyric:
In the game of love, it's bitter and it's sweet
And you wonder how something so beautiful
Can bring such agony
Let me tell you how it happened to me

Just reminiscing on the way I used to dream
Prince charming, slay the dragon, come and rescue me
So many things have changed but heartbreak feels the same
Well, my strength is what I found in the eye of a hurricane

And if somebody said it would never happen to me
After I realized, I still could be happy
So if the one I love never gave me love in return
Love's still alright with me, still alright with me

Be still, my heart, no one said there'll be days like this
Well, I made it this far, I see where the end is gonna be
I said, "Chante, honey, gotta keep pressing on"
My peace I found in the eye of a hurricane

And if somebody said it would never happen to me
After I realized, I still could be happy
So if the one I love never gave me love in return
Love's still alright with me, still alright with me

We're supposed to love unselfishly
But somehow I find I'm crying myself to sleep, sometimes
Tell me who's at fault at taking care of me
It's me, myself and my heart and I
Somehow we find a way to try to love again

Yet when you lose, you tried but still you're playing a game, well
Just when you learn the rules, you learn the rules have changed
I'm never worried 'cause I know just who I am
When you live, you learn to be the same
Even without the name

And if somebody said it would never happen to me
After I realized, I still could be happy
So if the one I love never gave me love in return
Love's still alright with me, still alright with me

And if the sun don't shine, there's still a little light in my heart
And if the rain falls down, I can still look at love
So if the one I love never gave me love in return
Love's still alright with me, love's alright with me

Love is still alright, alright, alright with me
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, alright
Love's still alright with me
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

And if the sun don't shine, there's still a little light in my heart
And if the rain falls down, I can still look at love
So if the one I love never gave me love in return
Love's still alright with me, love's alright with me

Love is still alright, alright, alright with me
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, alright
Love's still alright with me
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

And if the sun don't shine, there's still a little light in my heart
And if the rain falls down, I can still look at love
So if the one I love never gave me love in return
Love's still alright with me

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6ca1e0999b503f3585024ce05acd6d7f

Suburban Prince'S Death Song - Lyrics - Turbonegro

Title: Suburban Prince'S Death Song
Artist: Turbonegro
Composer(s): Thomas Seltzer, Hans Erik Dyvik, Bengt Skogholdt, Rune Gronn, Pal Kjaernes

Lyric:
Oh, no

Growing up in a middle class suburb
My life was such a bore
To good to be true
I discovered glue
I passed out while still wanting more

'Cause I, I was a pre-teen druggie
All I loved was getting high
I, I was a pre-teen druggie
Want to do it all the time

Well, I, I was a pre-teen druggie
All I loved was getting high
I, I was a pre-teen druggie
Didn't know that I would die

I didn't know
I didn't know
I didn't know
I didn't know

I was thirteen when I first got the urge
To taste the forbidden fruits
I was one of the guys
I always told lies

And I never followed the rules
My daddy was a drunk
My mom called me a punk
Tried to tie me to a rack

Now my lungs are black
From smokin' kakk
You know I'm never
Comin' back

I, I was a pre-teen druggie
All I loved was getting high
Trained by a fellow junkie
For a long career in crime

I, I was a pre-teen druggie
And I had to pay the price
One day I got unlucky
Then I did and then I did

I, I was a pre-teen druggie
And I had to pay the price
One day I got unlucky
Then I did and then I did

I, I was a pre-teen druggie
And I had to pay the price
One day I got unlucky
Then I did and then I did

I did some time

You know that I, I was a pre-teen druggie
But then I saw the light
I, I changed my main man
And Jesus became my life

Now I'm a three piece junkie
And I wonder why?
I, I, I'm a three piece junkie
Didn't know

That I would, that I would
That I would, that I would
That I would, that I would
That I would, that I would die

I didn't know, I didn't know
I didn't know, I didn't know
I didn't know, I didn't know
I didn't know, I didn't know

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3c6f01d22459686f17e5c949978dc60a