Showing posts sorted by relevance for query I Shall Be Free No. 10. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query I Shall Be Free No. 10. Sort by date Show all posts

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

I Shall Be Free No. 10 - Lyrics - Another Side Of Bob Dylan - Bob Dylan

Title: I Shall Be Free No. 10
Album: Another Side Of Bob Dylan
Artist: Bob Dylan
Composer(s): Bob Dylan

Lyric:
I'm just average, common too
I'm just like him, the same as you
I'm everybody's brother and son
I ain't different than anyone
It ain't no use a-talking to me
It's just the same as talking to you

I was shadow-boxing earlier in the day
I figured I was ready for Cassius Clay
I said "Fee, fie, fo, fum, Cassius Clay here I come
26, 27, 28, 29, I'm gonna make your face look just like mine
Five, four, three, two, one, Cassius Clay you'd better run
99, 100 101, 102, Your ma won't even recognize you
14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, Gonna knock him clean right out of his spleenf

Well, I don't know, but I've been told
The streets in heaven are lined with gold
I ask you how things could get much worse
If the Russians happen to get up there first
Wowee! pretty scary

Now, I'm liberal, but to a degree
I want ev'rybody to be free
But if you think that I'll let Barry Goldwater
Move in next door and mary my daughter
You must think I'm crazy
I wouldn't let him do it for all the farms in Cuba

Well, I set my monkey on the log
And ordered him to do the Dog
He wagged his tail and shook his head
And he went and did the Cat instead
He's a weird monkey, very funky

I sat with my high-heeled sneakers on
Waiting to play tennis in the noonday sun
I had my white shorts rolled up past my waist
And my wig-hat falling in my face
But they wouldn't let me on the tennis court

I gotta woman, she's so mean
She sticks my boots in the washing machine
Sticks me with buckshot when I'm nude
Puts bubblegum in my food
She's funny, wants my money, calls me honey

Now I gotta friend who spends his life
Stabbing my picture with a bowie-knife
Dreams of strangling me with a scarf
When my name comes up he pretends to barf
I've got a million friends

Now they asked me to read a poem
At the sorority sister's home
I got knocked down and my head was swimmin'
I wound up with the Dean of Women
Yippee! I'm a poet, and I know it
Hope I don't blow it

I'm gonna grow my hair down to my feet so strange
So I look like a walking mountain range
And I'm gonna ride into Omaha on a horse
Out to the country club and the golf course
Carry the New York Times, shoot a few holes, blow their minds

You're probably wondering by now
Just what this song is all about
What's probably got you baffled more
What this thing here is for
It's nothing
It's something I learned over in England

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07c050911b3272d814a38c7c0e898d7a

Friday, August 13, 2010

Knieght Rieduz - Lyrics - Krayzie Bone

Title: Knieght Rieduz
Artist: Krayzie Bone
Composer(s): Rashad Coes, Anthony Henderson

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

Lyric:
Hey, I be the pirate they call, you want to walk the plank
Come on I'll make you walk the plank at a point blank range
Bunkin' up brains wit a bloody, bloody scene
Make the old ladies scream

Oh no, I don't believe it but you seen it redrum murda baby
All they saw was the shadows, of the dark so they can't tell the law
Ha ha ha fuck'um leave them in the red while we proceed to pop
When they heart stop drop as they force me to weak'em

Complication with the breathin'
And I step on they neck while they wheezin'
Comin' from the underland
Piretes understand we are unidentified first of our kind

Knieght rieduz roll vroom, vroom, vroom
All the pirets on the ships and the witches on the brooms
And panic and panic and panic it must be magic
We only move when the moonlight guides us

When the sun rises you will not find us
We will not exist disappeared from the faces of the earth
But when the clock strikes 12 all hell breaks lose
We are the people with the plots and we all kill you
Dressed in black my name is shhh and I shall say no more

Build up dead inside of us mind twisted shook up in on tha
Mr. Fuss danger we closin' in on the side you
You only get one chance better take it run hide
Appeared from out of no where no trace to be found

We come and we go without a heat of a sound
Inside of me deadly whispas
Comin' through my crave like the shot of some sipas
More less show y'all no pitty

And you women have the art to pass me
Tried to provide me with me sexual tendencies
It couldn't happen in your wild fantasies
I'm not goin' to pass it up when I'm through

Knieght rieduz, here we come
Knieght rieduz, here we come
Knieght rieduz, here we come
Knieght rieduz, here we come

Mr. Sawed of Letherface, and the mothafuckin' Knieght Rieduz
Thugline nigga these muthfuckas pirates
And I'm the muthafuckin' thug
So I guess that make me a muthafuckin' Thug Pirate

Pull out your pump, I'm ready to buck
I now it's like that when I be fuckin' with these Knieght Rieduz
Them niggaz always be in some type of violence
That's why I signed them

Them Niggaz was lookin' for soldiers
And I never seen no people like these they ain't your ordinary
As a matter fact look at the raps kinda scary
Night time is where they come from

But I ain't never send these niggaz in the day time
Not once somthin' fishy It's like they don't exist
Nigga never saw they face just like the shit they makin'
And when we roll niggaz be lookin' surprised

'Cause of the way they dressed and they mysterious eyes
Hypnotize ya my Knieght Rieduz put on my
Letherface when I want to play with the Pirates

Knieght rieduz, here we come
Knieght rieduz, here we come
Knieght rieduz, here we come
Knieght rieduz, here we come

I suggested you pack your bags and hull ass
If you can't be gone by night fall please don't look back
Or how tragic and choose not to roll so I'm not rolled over
Now I'm all alone for the bullet holes

Turned his lights off and carefully
Your nothin' but a puff of smoke
And reach from every ones memory
Your next to be in gods hands

Your no longer a part of the human race
Here we come a court and now your lost until the darkness
For those who blaspherin' my name
Call the court and I won't rest till there all inside there grave

Knieght rieduz, here we come
Knieght rieduz, here we come
Knieght rieduz, here we come
Knieght rieduz, here we come

Knieght rieduz
1, 2 here we come for you
3, 4 we takin' over the world
5, 6 you have no time to repent
7, 8 Anti-Saint
9, 10 the sun is setting comin' from the under land

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f002b935ecd60f97d4729607ea2fed66

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Westside Slaughterhouse - Lyrics - Mack 10

Title: Westside Slaughterhouse
Artist: Mack 10
Composer(s): Dedrick Rolison, Nicholas Kvaran, Hendrik Rasmussen, Mack 10 Rasmus Berg, O'Shea Jackson, Jesper Dahl

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

Lyric:
Westside

Microphone check 10 from the West Coast beller and tella
I cuss like a sella when you see her she's a gonna
Moved to California blew the bitch up
And put the gangsta twist on her

Sunny Southern Cal it never snows
Niggas yellin' ha's and ho's we dumpin' out of 64's
When it comes to the gun play we vets
It's West Coast for life no crew only sets

It's the dog breathen out the smog
I'm a hog of this gangster shit don of the click
All you suckas want to dis the Pacific
But you buster niggas never get specific

Used to love her mad 'cause we fucked her
Pussy whipped bitch with no common sense
Hip hop started in the West
Ice Cube bailin' through the East without a vest

Now as I look to my riznight and to my left
I see motherfuckers staring like they wanna step
So I'm grabin' my rusty screw driver
In case I got to cut ya deeper than Vanessa Del Rio's Vagina

Finda notha crew of niggas who can fuck with this
Lyrical bully given verbal bruises to crews fool
You must be on dick dope and dynamite
How you figure speed on before you get peed on nigga, yeah

Fool what side is you red or the blue?
While as the L.A. zoo it's round two
I ignite grab the mic tight strike like a rattle
Bring the rhymes and nines to the motherfuckin' battle

So sun down to sun up run up with my gun up
All brakes get to pumpin' they know a nigga dumpin'
You dred like a rasta when I lock like a terrier
Mack 10 that nigga with the heat that'll berry ya

Oh ah, oh ah, do a walk by and watch everybody die
Niggas into gangs thangs and narcotics
Freak bitches riches and hydrolics
Pull heat knock you off yo feet

Clear the whole block both sides of the street
Even crips and bloods hear my thuds
Fee fy foe fum a nigga where you from?
West side

Fuck all you niggas I'm yellin'
This is mad circle to the fullest everybody 187um
Toons play the piano fuck a battle
I'm socking rappers like mad man Santiago

'Cause you niggas ain't impressin' me plus you singin' big red records
So nigga fuck what you tellin' me
Sit down Jr. you couldn't see me if you wanted to
Look y'all it Mack 10, Cube and the double U

Westside's on the map
Niggas represent the 70's and still never win gold
Westside's on the map
Niggas represent the 70's and still never win gold

I just had a scrap fo' the neighborhood Inglewood stereotype
Got to deal with the hype
Known to kick back with the fat sack fuck that
Where my gat at these nigga trippin' off my bulls hat

About to let loose with the chrome tray dude 5 shots
And I put holes in yo Bandanna
I push a Benz you still rollin' Gs
Nigga miss me with the set trip and start slangin' keys

When I say itchy citchy niggas get bitchy bitchy
'Cause they heard of ah natural born murderah
I'm like Frankenstein is spankin' time
Layin' in the sunshine with only one nine

So who wants to bust with the never rust
Goin' platinum plus every time I cuss
So fuck the whole world black
Niggas better hope I don't grow my jeri curl back

Steper murderah stepin' out a Chevrolet
Sportin' a beenie like Marvin Gaye
Stalkin' walkin' in my big black chuck's
Standin' tall in your freestyle session holdin' my balls

I'm peepin' game like a ref in '95
'Cause niggas be foul and bittin' other niggas styles
But if you're bittin' this you better bring the dentist
'Cause sucking these balls ah give yo ass lock jaws fool

Which way shall I go nigga what should I do?
Should I bang with the red or should I truce with the blue?
Should I rock dope beats and grab the mic and stay down?
Or should I shoot out of town and flip this pound?

Shit I never thought that my nuts ah get bigger
Checkin' major figures I'm hangin' with platinum niggas
It's Mack 10 and I'm Inglewood swangin'
No time fo bangin' but still got my cackeys hangin'

Fuck one love it's the bloody glove killin' honkey hoes
Leaving blood stains on Broncos
In a Hertz rental I drive on the 405
Is he dead or alive?

Motherfuck court took another snort
Jumpin' over chairs as I run through the airport
So I can catch a flight away from the drama
Number 32 chillin' in the Bahamas

Sucky ducky quack quack niggas ain't knowin' how to act
Sucka ducks play the back
Nigga use to dis but now it's turning around and like Brandy
Motherfuckers wanna be down

With this West Coast rap game I can give a fuck
If you wasn't down at first you can buck these nuts
Transformers get stole on boom
Get the picture killa Cali home of the body bags nigga

Westside's on the map
Niggas represent the 70's and still never win gold
Westside's on the map
Niggas represent the 70's and still never win gold

Westside

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Sunday, August 15, 2010

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

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Z - Threat - Lyrics - The Black Album - Jay

Title: Z - Threat
Album: The Black Album
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Shawn Carter, Robert S Kelly

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

Lyric:
Yo once a pimp gets threats
That's right, that's the the that's, that's threats them
And I'm serious about mine, I'm so sin-surr
And I, nigga I'll kill ya, I'll chop ya up
Put ya inside the mattress like drug money nigga

Yeah, I done told you niggaz 9 or 10 times stop fuckin' with me
I done told you niggaz 9 albums, stop fuckin' with me
I done told you niggaz the 9 on me, stop fuckin' with me
You niggaz must got 9 lives, 9th wonder

Put that knife in ya, take a little bit of life from ya
Am I frightenin' ya? Shall I continue?
I put the gun to ya, I let it sing you a song
I let it hum to ya, the other one sing along

Now it's a duet, and you wet, when you check out
The technique from the 2 tecs and I don't need two lips
To blow this like a trumpet you dumb shit
This is a un-usual musical I conductin'

You lookin' at the black Warren Buffett so all critics can duck sic
I don't care if you C. Delores Tuck-it
Or you Bill O'Reilly, you only rilin' me up
For three years, they had me peein' out of a cup

Now they 'bout to free me up, whatchu think I'm gon' be, what?
Rehabilitated, man I still feel hatred
I'm young black and rich so they wanna strip me naked, but
You never had me like Christina Aguiler-y

But catch me down the Westside, drivin' like Halle Berry
Or the FDR, in the seat of my car
Screamin' out the sunroof, death to y'all
You can't kill me, I live forever through these bars

I put the wolves on ya, I put a price on your head
The whole hood'll want ya, you startin' to look like bread
I send them boys at ya, I ain't talkin' bout Feds
Nigga them body-snatchers, nigga you heard what I said

I make 'em wait for you 'til five in the mornin'
Put your smarts on the side of your garment
Nigga stop fuckin' with me
R I P

That's right there nigga, nigga I'm wild
Nigga I keep trash bags with me
Never know when you gotta dump a nigga out
This sin-surr, this some sin-surr shit right here

Grown man I put hands on you, I dig a hole in the desert
They build The Sands on you, lay out blueprint plans on you
We Rat Pack niggaz, let Sam tap dance on you
Then, I Sinatra shot ya God damn you

I put the boy in the box like David Blaine
Let the audience watch, it ain't a thang
Y'all wish I was frontin', I George Bush the button
Front of all you in your car lift up your hood nigga run it

Then lift up your whole hood like you got oil under it
Your boy got the goods, y'all don't want nuttin' of it
Like, castor oil, I Castor Troy you
Change your face or the bullets change all that for you

Y'all niggaz is targets, y'all garages for bullets
Please don't make me park it in your upper level
Valet a couple strays from the 38 special, nigga
God bless you

I make 'em wait for you 'til five in the mornin'
Put your smarts on the side of your garment
Nigga stop fuckin' with me
R I P

Yeah I'm threatenin' ya, yeah I'm threatenin' ya
Who you thank you dealin' with?
They call me Chris, nigga I been makin' threats
Since I been in kindergarten nigga
Huh, ask about me, see if you ain't heard

When the gun is tucked, untucked, nigga you dies
Like numchuks held by the Jet L-I
I'm the one, thus meanin' no one must try
No two, no three, no four, know why?

Because one's four-five might blow yo' high
You ain't gotta go to church to get to know yo' God
It's a match made in heaven when I 'splay the 7
Put you on the nigga news, UPN at 11

Where you been, you ain't heard, got the word that I'm
That I'm so sin-surr?
I'm especially Joe Pesci with a grin
I will kill you, commit suicide, and kill you again, that's right

I make 'em wait for you 'til five in the mornin'
Put your smarts on the side of your garment
Nigga stop fuckin' with me
R I P

Whattup? Motherfucker I keep three motherfuckers what?
Nigga I'll throw a Molotov cocktail
Through your momma's momma's house
Nigga what the, where everybody live

Undercover nigga take your teeth out your mouth nigga
Chew your food up and put the shit back
In your mouth nigga and help you swallow
Nigga I take a mop handle off nigga
And sweep nigga, hold on, I'll be nigga what?

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eee04743b45dd0db64349d5880a764f0

Sunday, August 8, 2010

They Reminisce Over You (T.R.O.Y) - Lyrics - Pete Rock And Cl Smooth

Title: They Reminisce Over You (T.R.O.Y)
Artist: Pete Rock And Cl Smooth
Composer(s): Corey Brent Penn, Peter O Phillips

Lyric:
I reminisce, I reminisce
I reminisce, I reminisce
I reminisce, I reminisce

(I reminisce, I reminisce, uh)
I reminisce, I reminisce
(Yeah)
I reminisce, I reminisce

I reminisce, I reminisce
I reminisce, I reminisce

I reminisce for a spell, or shall I say think back
22 years ago to keep it on track
The birth of a child on the 8th of October
A toast but my granddaddy came sober

Countin' all the fingers and the toes
Now I suppose, you hope the little black boy grows, huh
18 years younger than my mama
But I really got beatings 'cause the girl loved drama

In single parenthood there I stood
By the time she was 21, had another one
This one's a girl, let's name her Pam
Same father as the first but you don't give a damn

Irresponsible, plain not thinking
Papa said, ?Chill?, but the brother keep winking
Still he won't down you or tear out your hide
On your side while the baby maker slide

But mama got wise to the game
The youngest of five kids, hon' here it is
After 10 years without no spouse
Momma's gettin' married in the house

Listen, positive over negative for the women and master
Mother Queen's risin' a chapter
Deja vu, tell you what I'm gonna do
When they reminisce over you, my God

It's so, yeah, so lovely
That's how we like to do it in the 90's
Pete Rock and CL Smooth comin' atcha

When I date back I recall a man off the family tree
My right hand Poppa Doc I see
Took me from a boy to a man so I always had a father
When my biological didn't bother

Taking care of this, so who am I to bicker?
Not a bad ticker but I'm clocking pop's liver
But you can never say that his life is through
5 kids at 21 believe he got a right too

Here we go, while I check the scene
With the Portuguese lover at the age of 14
The same age, front page, no fuss
But I bet you all your dough, they live longer than us

Never been senile, that's where you're wrong
But give the man a taste and he's gone
Noddin' off, sleep to a jazz tune
I can hear his head banging on the wall in the next room

I get the pillow and hope I don't wake him
For this man to cuss, hear it all in verbatim
Telling me how to raise my boy unless he's taking over
I said, ?Pop, maybe when you're older?

We laughed all night about the hookers at the party
My old man standing yelling, ?Good God, almighty
Use your condom, take sips of the brew"
When they reminisce over you, for real

Like that, we for real
Comin' atcha in '92
Pete Rock and CL Smooth
Yeah, c'mon, hit me

I reminisce so you never forget this
The days of wayback, so many bear witness the fitness
Take the first letter out of each word in this joint
Listen close as I prove my point

T to the R O Y, how did you and I meet?
In front of Big Lou's fighting in the street
But only you saw what took many time to see
I dedicate this to you for believing in me

Rain or shine, yes, in any weather
My grandmom Pam holds the family together
My Uncle Doc's the greatest, better yet the latest
If we're talking about a car, Uncle Sterling got the latest

I strive to be live 'cause I got no choice
And run my own business like my Aunt Joyce
So Pete Rock hit me, 'nuff respect due
When they reminisce over you, listen

Listen, just listen to the funky song as I rock on
And that's word is bond, I'm not playin', everybody, just coolin'
This song we dedicate to the one and only
Never be another, he was my brother

Trouble T-Roy, it's like that y'all
And you don't stop
Pete Rock and CL Smooth for '92
And we out, later

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Monday, August 2, 2010

The Grind Date - Lyrics - De La Soul

Title: The Grind Date
Artist: De La Soul
Composer(s): John Anderson, Kelvin Mercer, Steve Howe, David J Jolicoeur, Chris Squire, Alan White, Vincent Lamont Mason, Dave Nathaniel West, Rick Wakeman

Lyric:
If the meek shall inherit the earth and not the weak
Let me inherit the street, fuck it
You know what I mean? I mean, I love life, man
You know what I mean, life is beautiful
It's just the shit in it that's fucked up
It's rough but it's fair
People gotta go out there and bust they, bust they ass for a job
I mean, my dad's got five kids, man and I mean you know
He hates drivin' a bus but he loves five kids
You feel me?

I'm a rhyme artist
Out here tryin' to grind my hardest
Up early so to milk the cow
Keep my John Deere out here plowin' the fields
To keep my John Hancock's worth up in the now
Went from hangin' on blocks to hangin' on a chart
Positions is part of my mission to hangin' on top
Gotta get your polly cracker or with them crackers
And them scheisty ass niggaz if you like it or not

I've been rewired to work more efficiently in the dirt
I'm hands on with it all up in my cuticles
Some try to get off the farm but fell into harm
Of gettin' in the game of those street pharmaceuticals
But I was raised in those blue collar themes
Havin' white collar dreams 'cause I see what it means
And though the meek shall inherit the earth but don't forget
The poor are the one's who inherit the debt

You can bet I got better things to do than that
I was a dick who got jerked by Tom and his boys
Came on my land, seized my cattle and catalog
As if it wouldn't leave me less than coy
But I'm far from bitter even farther from quittin'
Got a grind date to make, no time for sittin'
And playin' XBox, stand up and exercise my rights
As of by seen of through masta's eye
It's the grind date

Know what I'm sayin'? I'm sick of askin' that
I mean the street philosophy is that
I'm gonna milk the cow and cook the meat
At least I have some kind of food and drink
Because sometimes you can't come back
Like momma said, "If you need 5 cents don't ask for 3
Ask for 10, that's for sure"

Yo fuck a rhyme artist, I ain't here for that
I was born with the boom bap, respect the name
My hands on experience was hands on my first contract
Taught me quick how to respect the game
Introduced to the block, got used to the block
But your neighbors be the one's who throw shit on your lawn
It's like every single time we pop, they got annoyed
But we got ahead and we got along

And puttin' work on the calendars, worse on them calendars
Worth of hump days that broke the camel's back
The grind'll make today look gray
And paint a tainted picture of tomorrows in enamel black
Meet the rhyme, street grind, son, whatever the beast
I'm a take it at the horns till the pinky toe torn
And show you why we here this long
'Cause when it comes to puttin' in work
Once again it's on

I'm just like everybody else, man
An average nigga with above average potential
You know what I mean? I'm not sayin' that I'm a gentleman
I'm sayin' that I know how to act like a gentleman
In order to get the things that I need
And if I gotta pull out my nickle bag, I'm gonna do that
This ain't no accident, man, we, we stayin' this

You damn right I am proud of myself, man
I'm proud of my team, man
I don't want you to get the wrong, yo baby on the real?
I don't have sex with people I do business with neither
And that's the real
But I do, do business with people that I have sex with
So if there ain't no conflict, let's get this grind on
'Cause I'm gonna fuck the shit outta you, that's word

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915904f4fac153d8ff2a872d006f9d9d

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Let The Ho'S Go - Lyrics - Naughty By Nature - Naughty By Nature

Title: Let The Ho'S Go
Album: Naughty By Nature
Artist: Naughty By Nature
Composer(s): Keir Gist, Anthony Criss, Vinnie Brown

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

Lyric:
Bass me face me task the tip of a tasty
Bitches are sweet as a pastry
You don't know me homey from a peach or a pony
I'm the only now your lyrics look lonely
Lyrically fortified born I'm immortalized
Lightin' shit up from Wranglers to raw hides
Packed with black positivity and wizardry
I'm my own body and it built for partyin'
I rip hearts apart as if it's my last rap

The Lords abroad and I represent that ass dat
Shows seniority, lays the foundation
Bolos and donuts, oh I built the nation
Keep the faith tastin', keep the touch clutched
Keep your face way away from the rough stuff
If it ain't rough it ain't rugged
Either you are born with none or you're stacked or star-studded
From the intro to end I will flow
And also, yo come let the ho's go

Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
(Let the ho's go)
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho

Meet my friend Mac 10, sittin' backpacked and mackin'
Thirsty for action, workin' and smackin' the last of the allies
Smoke 'em up shall I or should I? I'm sure to give it a good try
No need for a survival kit, there's none left to fix
They've all been blown into dustbins
Floatin' in space, spinnin' in infinity
Part of the start is the end of any identity
Lost in the source, no cause, so the boss gettin' off

East, the West, the South, break North
You'll bite as my chew, as a guard duckin' a graveyard
Actin' is for actors so you rap but don't you play hard
I got the Mac to wax and I ain't tryin to fall back
I rap like I'm the tops, stay real 'cos I'm all that
It's my way on a highway, forget your friends
'cos I stick that ass like cowboys stickin' a contact lens
Let the ho's go

Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
(Let the ho's go)
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho

You say you're hittin' hard, huh, I say you're hardly hittin'
I grip ya quick like a pussy in a kitten mitten
I'm gettin' grand and greater, sucker catch ya later
He gettin paid with the fade of a Space Invader
You lookin' moonstruck, fear, start to talkin' tough
Then sayin' "Sorry" like I really give a mother fuck
You're little late, don't you think that was the wrong approach-a?

A sqwuab by the name of Treach is sure to up and smoke ya
At anytime, anywhere, for any wanted cause
I got a double-barreled pump that's sayin', "Give me yours"
Then I'ma dash in a flash, duck and go for cover
'Cos I have one for this robbery and many others
Another gangster, no I'm like an angry ecker
Droppin' you and gettin' mad if you don't say, "Thank yer"

The clip clockin' killers, and plus my county crew
I gotta clutch, I'll clean your life, no not after you
So don't try to hide or apologize
Apologies and go meet a French eyes is wise
So if you know what I mean and have a hop block
And never ever seen a day when the money stops
You gotta put up your fists, just to let me know
Ain't I gotta pump it hard to let the ho's go, let the ho's go

Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
(Let the ho's go)
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho

Competition on canvas, never have I heard the tongue
Throw a watch at me without it being fuckin hung
Give it a new style, neck him up and keep him learning
Should've had projects in the days of Mississippi Burning
I let her see the white sheet hit the concrete
And see that head go off and down from a thousand feet

'Cos the brother's around me don't even play all that
They see a sheet and a cross, they say "Oh, gimme that"
Hollow wind in Ill town and don't you be a ghost
'Cos you get your broke or even worst smoked
Now this rhyme is regard' lyrically low cold
But it had to have the flow to let the ho's go, let the ho's go

Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
(Let the ho's go)
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho

Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho

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Saturday, August 7, 2010

Whatcha Gonna Do? - Lyrics - Better Dayz - 2pac

Title: Whatcha Gonna Do?
Album: Better Dayz
Artist: 2pac
Composer(s): Katari Cox, Duane Nettlesbey, Tupac Shakur, Donna Hunter, Rufus Cooper

Lyric:
Hahaha
And ugh

I started out dumb sprung off a hood rat
Listening to the radio wishing that I could rap
But nothing changed I was stuck in the game
'Cause everybody in the industry was fucking me man

Listen I've got a scheme
Break away do my own thing
Drop some conversation
Sit back and let the phone ring

Niggas they wanna see me rise
'97 watch me cut these motherfuckers down to size
And if I catch another case Lord knows how they hate me
Got a playa in the court room please don't let them frame me

I've been dealt a lot of bad cards living as a thug
Count my blessings don't stress in this land with no love
Maybe if they see me rolling look at all this green I'm holding
I guess that's why the envious and get their eye swollen

Hoping the Heavenly farther love a hustler
Be the hardest nigga on earth to ever bust a nut
My homies tell me have a heart fuck they feelings
I've been trying to make a million since we started we cold hearted

Niggas in masks that'll blast at the task force
Empty out my clip time to mash
They asked for it me Makaveli I'm a motherfucker
We break bread now we thug brothers

Niggas talk a lot of nonsense
I choose to ignore a war
They ain't ready for it

Now what cha gonna do? When my niggas come for you
(What ya gonna do)
Now what cha gonna do? When my niggas come for you
(What ya gonna do)
Tell now what cha gonna do? When my niggas come for you
(What ya gonna do)
Now what cha gonna do? When my niggas come for you
(What ya gonna do)

My nine is thug Lord my mind on my grind
Outlawz is my heart they shine when I shine
My rhyme is my grind my team be on role
Proceed with the onslaught indeed they on top

They all marks and its an outlaw holocaust
When I got the sawed-off niggas gettin' halved off
Yeah, nigga beware stand clear
This nigga's scared

Man I don't really care
I've been lost loved
(Loved)
My heart need a hug
(Hug)
My bite leave blood
(Blood)
Fight with a grudge

The life of a thug nigga, might need gloves
But you will never know with a price on your mug
And fight strips snug right around your hands
Niggas sure you can never grab the mic again

Dog you fucking with a grown man
And I can't afford to loose
Where we from niggas told to do
So what cha ya wann' do?

Now what cha gonna do? When my niggas come for you
(What ya gonna do)
Tell me now what cha gonna do? When my niggas come for you
(What ya gonna do)
Tell me now what cha gonna do? When my niggas come for you
(What ya gonna do)
Now what cha gonna do? When my niggas come for you

Watch me clown give me loving when I'm high
I'ma outlaw baby I'll be thugging till I die
In drop-top double R life as a rap star
Hustle like a crack fiend till they catch me

Go ask somebody to your show
Watch them niggas out the sight of mah night scope
Cooking white dope got mah nigga 25 to life stretched out
Trying to have all the better things in life

Well Makaveli A born leader 10 millimeter
Changing niggas future like a schizophrenic palm reader
Heeds from out the bible I read see the meek shall inherit the earth
And the strong will lead

Hittin' weed like it alright I'm in the studio
Making music all night my enemies cry whenever I rise
They hated 'till death try to beat me out my last breath
What cha gonna do?

Now what cha gonna do? When my niggas come for you
(What ya gonna do)
Now, now what cha gonna do? When my niggas come for you
(What ya gonna do)
Now what cha gonna do? When my niggas come for you
(What ya gonna do)
Now what cha gonna do? When my niggas come for you
(When my niggas come)

Now what cha gonna do?When my niggas come for you
(What ya gonna do)
Now what cha gonna do? When my niggas come for you
(What ya gonna do)

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60af6fe511f35254c6d53b3594fd45ec

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Ya Keep On - Lyrics - The History Of Rock - Kid Rock

Title: Ya Keep On
Album: The History Of Rock
Artist: Kid Rock
Composer(s): Barbara Lomas, Louis Risbrook, Carlos Nathaniel Ward, Orlando Woods, R J Ritchie, Dennis Rowe, William Risbrook, Richard Mc Alvi Thompson

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

Lyric:
Pass that dang coat boy I'm back
My name ain't Jack Tripper, but I'm a day tripper
So watch me whip another funky rhyme
East side swinging with the Bones wine
Getting mine, just like I'm supposed to

And if you fuck with the Rock, I'll roast you
A little toast to the real emcee's
Ain't no love for the wannabes
So, hey ho don't call me Joe
'Cause the Joe's I know, can't even flow

I can battle rap, and all that other crap
So if ya don't want none, better step to the back
I'm from the motherfucking ole school
Basement party's and the Klem fool
Talking that trash, I wish you would
Come step to rock, it's all good

Ya' keep on, ya' keep on
Ya' keep on, ya' keep on

Now it's the Marlboro smoking, fine hoe poking
Kind bud, be the bud's I'm toking
Hitting you straight with the fresh shit
Wid western funk, and I'm the best bitch

The K to the I to the chrome D's
I'm the Grand Marquees sipping O-E
Pimping Rock, it's my name, my game
Serving you hoe's like it ain't no thing

Like a kid when I rap, rock when I'm singing
I don't care who comes, but what the fuck you bringing
Shit, one time, one rhyme
'Cause I'm that motherfucking I'll one, with a steel dick
Hitting you hoe's with the real shit

Ya' keep on, ya' keep on
Ya' keep on, ya' keep on

Now if you don't know hoe, I'm the man in the dark
I got more rips than Stanly Clark
Or George Clint, shoot, I'm the kid with the funky loot
So if ya want some, get some if ya need some, here's some
If ya don't just step to the rear son

I'm coming with the quickness
If you dis this bitch, you'll wind up on my hit list
I'll put a bounty on your head
McLough County [unverified] bitch, ain't a good place to wind up dead
'Cause I'm a real relevant, eleventh, type menace

But it ain't Rocky Dennis
Watch me bang this rhyme in half
I'm like Moses, with the mic as my staph
Laying down them 10 Commandments
Tho shall not dis the Rock goddamn it

Ya' keep on, ya' keep on
Ya' keep on, ya' keep on
Ya' keep on, ya' keep on
Ya' keep on, ya' keep on

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07530f8e8e4fceb700ebaed751a95f4d

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Work - Lyrics - Mack 10

Title: Work
Artist: Mack 10
Composer(s): Dedrick Rolison, Ro

Lyric:
Nigga wanna hustle
Nigga wanna sell dope where we grow up nigga
Ride with me and learn something nigga
If not, stay away my playground nigga

Yeah, this shit right here is for real hustle niggas
Real street niggas, y'all follow me
Squared niggas, kick back and listen how is shit really go, uh

Cabbage work hoes goes spoke and pistols
Last in getting away hearin' whistles
Scopin' down map gestural back full of chips
A hot ass scraps ski mask and two in the clips

Scoop on 'em motophone let 'em know it's on
I pack use 'em draws homeboy, nigga we goners
Beep on 'em Mexican though we won't work
No Baking Soda slides twenty on 'em for the dirt

Got 'em, strap on 'em my shell with ducktapes
See nervous while the Greyhouse escpae across Interstate
Jumpin' up in the friendly scotia down chicken weight
For the work show up and really do be straight

They pull up bread all the lookin' flawless us a show dog
Twenty bird and rally car like she a mother law
Damn, she'll need no duck the law
Bitch got us switch walkin' with the work like motherfuck the law

That's the shit nigga ball fo', how they dope that they wall fo'?
Jumpin' on 'em hoes, they floss the hoes
We carry choppers stole us on homies with calicos
With the funk kick wishin' y'all holy copy with those

Banged out, thanged out, everybody hangin' out
Whole crews anybody sayin' we bust used
Go back blast the gas about to shootin' us
For cabbage work hoes and hundred fo's

Now in the N and N.Y. talkin' to why dies with the bitch
And some load ki's me insider
It's now and never, turn back why should we
Let's turn this bitch upside down
(How could we?)

First to be unnoticed, I don't trust that bitch
She fine but she mixed with rat the lil' snitch
I don't feel right I know crass bustin' bust pipe
And the fed I had up on punk ass snitch all night

Where we better do is send that bitch to the [unverified]
Take the ki's to the rally car and get that bitch the cap
She go be mad about it 'cause she getting cut out
But just let it know her job is done
(Bitch butt out)

Why we here for?
(Nigga we here paper chasin')
Okay then well, let's made this put reservatoins
Bust train or even train station
If you got motophone we can start this operation

That's the shit nigga ball fo', how they dope that they wall fo'?
Jumpin' on 'em hoes, they floss the hoes
We carry choppers stole us on homies with calicos
With funk kick wishin' y'all holy copy with those

Banged out, thanged out, everybody hangin' out
Whole crews anybody sayin' we bust used
Go back, blast the gas about to shootin' us
For cabbage work hoes and hundred hoes

Now I'm the king of rock for my work
One time shoot the block, I did my sack about the dirt
Like a dream team both feams tryin' around me like impressed
Takin' fifth G horse and spork the dope 'port

Like a hell is seen hot for shit, I ain't trippin'
Got folks in the bushes with the chop, chop so I ain't slippin'
None of these out of town C's and Beems
Niggas playin' 'em gueens street they never seen the pontrees

Hobbed on the plane, I'm back on stinky greens
And Inglewood floss and faded the whole scene
1-0 back Ol' T dope grindin'
Fresh gear, big wheels, jewels shinnin'

So I hit Shall Sunday, watchin' with low-low's hot
Me and my N.O. partners on the strippin' new drops
Bentleys, Warreys, Benzes, Hummers
With none full of fall for the next twenty Summers

That's the shit nigga ball fo', how they dope that they wall fo'?
Jumpin on 'em hoes, they floss the hoes
We carry choppers stole us on homies with calicos
With the funk kick wishin' y'all holy copy with those

Banged out, thanged out, everybody hangin' out
Whole crews anybody sayin' we bust used
Go back, blast the gas about to shootin' us
For cabbage work hoes and hundred fo's

And there you have it, that's how it go
From top to bottom, half heart, half money nigga
Oh, don't get it fucked up
I still got money for my first trip out of town, haha, you dig

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ab88177805d401f8fad05e1fcaa2d8d3