Just Lose It [Video] - Lyrics - Just Lose It [ENHANCED] - Eminem

Title: Just Lose It [Video]
Album: Just Lose It [ENHANCED]
Artist: Eminem
Composer(s): Mark Batson, Marshall Mathers, Michael Elizondo, Andre Young, Che Pope

Lyric:
Okay, guess who's back, back again
Shady's back, tell a friend
Now everyone report to the dance floor
To the dance floor, to the dance floor
Now everyone report to the dance floor
Alright stop, pajama time

Come here little kiddies on my lap
Guess who's back with a brand new rap
And I don't mean rap as in a new case
Of child molestation accusates
Ah ah ah ah ah, no worries
Papa's got a brand new bag of toys
What else could I possibly do to make noise?
I've done touched on everything but little boys

That's not a stab at Michael
That's just a metaphor, I'm just psycho
I go a little bit crazy sometimes
I get a little bit out of control with my rhymes
Good God, dip, do a little slide
Bend down, touch your toes, and just glide
To the center of the dance floor
Like TP for my bung hole and it's cool if you let one go

Nobody's gonna know, who'd hear it?
Give a little poot poot, it's okay
Oops my CD just skipped
And everyone just heard you let one rip

Now I'm gonna make you dance, it's your chance
Yeah boy, shake that ass, whoops I mean girl, girl, girl, girl
Girl you know you're my world, alright now lose it
(Ah ah ah ah ah)
Just lose it
(Ah ah ah ah ah)
Go crazy
(Ah ah ah ah ah)
Oh baby
(Ah ah)
Oh baby
(Ah ah)

It's Friday and it's my day
Used to party all the way to Sunday
Maybe 'til Monday, I don't know what day
Everyday's just a holiday
Cruisin' on the freeway, feelin' kind of breezy
Let the top down and my hair blow
I don't know where I'm goin', all I know
Is when I get there someone's gonna touch my body

Excuse me miss, I don't mean to sound like a jerk
But I'm feelin' just a little stressed out from work
Would you punch me in the stomach and pull my hair?
Spit on me, maybe gouge my eyes out, yeah
Now what's ya name girl, what's ya sign?
Man you must be up out yo mind
Dre, ah, ah, beer goggles, blind
I'm just tryin' to unwind, now I'm

Now I'm gonna make you dance, it's your chance
Yeah boy, shake that ass, whoops I mean girl, girl girl girl
Girl you know you're my world, alright now lose it
(Ah ah ah ah ah)
Just lose it
(Ah ah ah ah ah)
Go crazy
(Ah ah ah ah ah)
Oh baby
(Ah ah)
Oh baby (ah ah)

It's Tuesday and I'm locked up
I'm in jail and I don't know what happened
They say I was runnin' butt naked
Down the street screamin' "Ah ah ah ah"
Well I'm sorry, I don't remember
All I know is this much, I'm not guilty
They said. "Save it, boy we got you on tape
Yellin' at an old lady touch my body"

Now this is the part where the rap breaks down
It's real intense, no one makes a sound
Everything looks like it's '8 Mile' now
The beat comes back and everybody lose themselves
Now snap back to reality, look it's B. Rabbit
Oh you signed me up to battle? I'm a grown man
Tubba tubba tubba tubba tubba tubba tubba
I don't have any lines to go right here so tubba

Tellytubby fellas, what, fellas, what
Grab your left nut, make your right one jealous what
Black girls, white girls, skinny girls, fat girls
Tall girls, small girls, I'm callin' all girls
Everyone report to the dance floor
It's your chance for a little romance or butt squeezin'
It's the season, just go ah ah ah ah, it's so appeasin'

Now I'm gonna make you dance, it's your chance
Yeah boy, shake that ass, whoops I mean girl, girl girl girl
Girl you know you're my world, alright now lose it
(Ah ah ah ah ah)
Just lose it
(Ah ah ah ah ah)
Go crazy
(Ah ah ah ah ah)
Oh baby
(Ah ah)
Oh baby, baby
(Ah ah)

Touch my body, touch my body
Oh boy just touch my body, I mean girl just touch my body

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179fac502b40134be670bb4af9d31dbd

Once Again - Lyrics - Till Death Do Us Part - Cypress Hill

Title: Once Again
Album: Till Death Do Us Part
Artist: Cypress Hill
Composer(s): Louis Freese, Larry Muggerud

Lyric:
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I bring to you
Once again it's Cypress Hill
(Once again)
Once again it's Cypress Hill
(The greatest show on earth)
Once again it's Cypress Hill
(Back again)
Once again it's Cypress Hill
(I bring to you)

Welcome everyone, take ya places
It's great seein' all these familiar faces
You want thug shit? We got a lot of it
You wanna get high? I'm on top of it

You want bottles? C'mon, we poppin' it
You want a revolution? Ain't no stoppin' it
Enemies try to fire back, desire that, find you where the tire track
'Cause we run ya down son, but in spite of that
Got a joint? Fools give me my lighter back

I'm a light up the bomb, I'm a blaze till we set off the fire alarm
No need for evacuation, find a honey that's ill for ejaculation
She got friends, well the more the merrier
No limits, no worries, no more barriers

Once again it's Cypress Hill
We some ill ass niggaz straight bumpin' the field
Smoke it up, from now until
Somebody calls out steel and we live for the thrill

Once again it's Cypress Hill
We some ill ass niggaz straight bumpin' the field
Smoke it up, from now until
Somebody calls out steel and we live for the thrill

Plug the mic in, and I'll move the crowd
Neighbors get mad 'cause the music's loud
I send a few girls in the hall to talk
Crusty old man never called the cops

No pistols, if you get my drift yo
You pull one and miss better slit your wrists bro
This ain't a gangsta party
But if you turn it into one a bullet might pierce your body

Relax, there's a lot of girls in here
You shit faced niggaz, don't earl in here
Don't break shit or take nothin', mind your manners
Or your head goes 'boom' like it's fuckin' skanless

But we ain't for all that right now, just chill out
We can pop bottles or let the blood spill out
Cuanta, suck it up, shut your trap
Before you lose that fine ass girl on your lap

Once again it's Cypress Hill
We some ill ass niggaz straight bumpin' the field
Smoke it up, from now until
Somebody calls out steel and we live for the thrill

Once again it's Cypress Hill
We some ill ass niggaz straight bumpin' the field
Smoke it up, from now until
Somebody calls out steel and we live for the thrill

Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill

You wanna room? Let me clear one out
But while I'm gone, just don't let the beers run out
In the morn' we can watch all the tears come out
When the pigs come, a nigga wanna hear one out

For now, we can pass the time
Blazin' it up, if you slow you the last in line
Got a roach, so what? You ain't spent a dime
You ungrateful-ass critter, back the hell of mine

You can, lose the life or lose the knife
Use the pipe, but I can't lose tonight
All the girls bein' picky who they chose tonight
You better hope you chillin' with the right crew tonight

See that girl over there? Yeah she like your style
Probably seen her on the video "Girls Gone Wild"
Hesitation is constipation
Of your game when you're in for a night of elation

Once again it's Cypress Hill
We some ill ass niggaz straight bumpin' the field
Smoke it up, from now until
Somebody calls out steel and we live for the thrill

Once again it's Cypress Hill
We some ill ass niggaz straight bumpin' the field
Smoke it up, from now until
Somebody calls out steel and we live for the thrill

Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill

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2fa6b07236bcf09f886e70ae0d065aee

What'S Happenin' - Lyrics - Method Man

Title: What'S Happenin'
Artist: Method Man
Composer(s): Clifford Smith, Anand Bakshi, R.D. Burman, Trevor Smith, H Jordan

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

Lyric:
Aiyo, Tical?
What up, fam?
You know Busta-Bust had to come see you
God, it's good to see you, God
Good too see you too, God
Let's take the streets for a little ride
Okay, we ridin' high
Yeah, you better light your L, smoke your L
And just
Kiss the sky
Huh! And if you ever disrespect the Bust or Meth
Find their mentor
Yeah, I-I-I think the streets been lookin' for this one for a long time
Yeah, aiyo
Come on!

I came to bring the pain, more hard to the brain
Tical, I'm bustin' that ass again
I burn like acid rain, that acid slang
These niggaz try'nna see how I come ash again
Main and evident, I'm huntin', yes, Meth for president
Be in hell with Dazel and George just for the hell of it
And I ain't yellow kid, flows hot as kettle get
Now if you ain't fuckin' with that, you must be celibate

Spaz! Just a little, got a sack lookin' fizzle
Little hash in the middle, where it at? In the middle, yup
Mommy if you got a fat ass, make it jiggle, yup
Put it in my next video shot by Little X
And M E F gon' work 'til their ain't any left
I'm tryin' get what I'm worth and not a penny less
Think fast
(Come on)
Bank cash
(Come on)
Everybody do it with your stank ass
(Just come on)

Make you rob somebody
(What?)
Grab somebody
(What?)
Stomp somebody
(What?)
Slap somebody
(What?)
Make you wanna step to the bar and sip Bacardi
(What?)
Wild out, spaz in the club, we in the party
(What?)

Brooklyn
(Come on)
Shaolin
(Come on)
Queens bridge down to Long Island
(Come on)
Bronx, nigga
(Come on)
Manhattan
(Come on)
To each and every hood what's happening?
(Come on)

Yeah, let 'em talk, nigga, come on Bust
(Aiyo, Meth, let me get at these niggaz)
Yeah!

Now watch me back your shit up, I hope your people pull up
And pick up and pack your shit up, homie, it's time to move
While I'm singin', ma, do you let relieve you of all of your
Figure seating sketching, never believe in your niggaz
(Come on!)
Go head and babble you can watch me patiently waiting
Aimin', attackin', instead I'ma let one of my bitches slap you
I ain't watch you when your niggaz'll try
To feel a wrath of the un-rudely waking of a sleeping giant
(Very defiant)
Once I give you the pressure
And then I apply it and then your breathing is stop and totally quiet

Captain of this ship, so call me the pilot
I leave you and your crew to collide with me
Die, stomp on a nigga, just like a herd of a thousand cattle
That'll travel over your face and frazzle your shit
Shot you, worst than a brick and then be torturin' you
And then get the reverend and get to steppin', nigga!
This shit'll make you

Make you rob somebody
(What?)
Grab somebody
(What?)
Stomp somebody
(What?)
Slap somebody
(What?)
Make you wanna step to the bar and sip Bacardi
(What?)
Wild out, spaz in the club, we in the party
(What?)

Brooklyn
(Come on)
Shaolin
(Come on)
Queens bridge down to Long Island
(Come on)
Bronx, nigga
(Come on)
Manhattan
(Come on)
To each and every hood what's happening?
(Come on)

Haha, that's the truth, my nigga
(Nigga, listen, listen, let me talk)
Let me talk!

Can't you see what I got for you now?
Shake your big fat ass in front of me now
To all my high bidders
To all my live niggaz
We here to blackout, follow the story now
Just feel my heat, and you know I'm gonna
Just keep the street, but nigga did you
Know when you bout to lose it, my nigga
And you know we gon' get real stupid, my nigga

See the police coming
(What?)
Fireman coming
(What?)
Street niggaz ready to riot and start dummin'
(What?)
I love to see it, whenever you and your man frontin'
(What?)
Me and Meth'll step to you, quick! And smash somethin'
(What?)

Now who is he? Dope M.C. killin these cowards
Wack niggaz get pimp slapped, give me some powder
Click-clack, one in your back, now think about it
Get back, runnin' your gap, I can't allow it
Well every nigga
(Set it off)
You know we seeing it through God
The streets be needing niggaz like me and you, God
Aiyo, I think we're up, seen it from here, we got a mile, yo
Logical, we should of done this shit a long time ago

I got that shit that make rappers shit in they shoes
Nasty M.C., I spit flows and spit in they food
Man, don't tempt me, I'm nothin' like a curious child
I'm simply a boy in the hood with furious childs
(This shit'll make you)

Make you rob somebody
(What?)
Grab somebody
(What?)
Stomp somebody
(What?)
Slap somebody
(What?)
Make you wanna step to the bar and sip Bacardi
(What?)
Wild out, spaz in the club, we in the party
(What?)

Brooklyn
(Come on)
Shaolin
(Come on)
Queens bridge down to Long Island
(Come on)
Bronx, nigga
(Come on)
Manhattan
(Come on)
To each and every hood what's happening?
(Come on)

Every day, every rotation, come with it!
Let me talk, come on, hah
Aiyo God
Yeah, lord?
Flipmode, Wu-Tang, nigga, ain't that some shit?
That's some shit, actually truthfully, Busta Bust!
Meth Tical!
Yeah
Yeah, let me know when you wanna do that again, God
Shit we can do that right now, shout out to New Jersey, hahaha, yeah!

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fcf4bcb8c0b211d7e001e614ec81b0c0

Baby Phat - Lyrics - De La Soul

Title: Baby Phat
Artist: De La Soul
Composer(s): Kelvin Mercer, David Jolicoeur, Vincent Mason, Damon Wimbley, Kurt Walker, Ronald D. Miller, Mark Morales, Damon Kimbley, Dave West, William Waring

Lyric:
Phat phat, uh and along came Pos, phat phat

It's a sure bet
When I stare into your dark browns I get
Overwhelmed, overjoyed, overstep
My bounds, on your touchy subject

Your weight, shape's not what I date
It's you, my crew don't mind it thick, uh uh
Every woman ain't a video chick, nah
Or runway model, anorexic

I love what I can hold and grab on
So if you burn it off, keep the flab on
We gonna stay gettin' our collab on, ow
Girl, we gonna stay gettin' our collab on, ooh ooh
We gonna stay gettin' our collab on

Don't stuck on the things they say, now you know it's a nasty world
Tryna get witcha anyway 'cuz I know your a nasty girl
We's never gon' discriminate so lemme compliment your size
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh

Yeah, it's nothin' but a little baby phat, phat
Yeah, it's nothin' but a little baby phat, phat
Yeah, it's nothin' but a little baby phat, phat
Yeah, it's nothin' but a little baby phat, phat
Yeah, it's nothin' but a little baby phat, phat

Claim you outta shape, you not outta place, uh-uh
You keep it natural with no powdered face
Without exercise you got the eye
Starin' you down, make me wonder why

You women wanna frown at them stick figures
On them little ass girls, when a clique of niggaz run up
And try to hurl game for real, your frame holds appeal in the everyday
World in conceal is not the way to go, I'm tellin' you
I had to let ya know, ya need to let it all hang

Don't be scared to show a little of that thang-thang
No matter how you weigh it girl, it's feminine
Got a body everybody wanna know, yeah yeah
Be the private dancer in my Luke show, c'mon girl

Skip the salad girl, bring us both a menu
Eat the whole box of chocolates I send you, hey
See girl, ya more than just apple in my eye
Confess I wanna get up in ya thighs
Downs, the rest'll tell you all the things

Don't stuck on the things they say, now you know it's a nasty world
Tryna get witcha anyway 'cuz I know your a nasty girl
We's never gon' discriminate so lemme compliment your size
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh

I love it when y'all broads wear it skintight, skintight
Make the big panties look like little panties, hey
Tryin' to lose that bottom girl you been right
I saw who make ya cookies I should go and thank ya granny, uh huh

Don't mind you being conscious of ya calories
If gettin' paper stack man you'd get salaries
You ain't in this alone I got a tummy to
Just lemme watch the weight, don't let it trouble you, come here girl

Nine ten specimen up in ya jeans
You 'bout a size seven and just make it fit
Slim Fast, lypo and body creams
I'll put you on the dogs I got a candle lit

Don't stuck on the things they say, now you know it's a nasty world
Tryna get witcha anyway 'cuz I know your a nasty girl
We's never gon' discriminate so lemme compliment your size
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh

Don't stuck on the things they say, now you know it's a nasty world
Tryna get witcha anyway 'cuz I know your a nasty girl
We's never gon' discriminate so lemme compliment your size
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh

Yeah, it's nothin' but a little baby phat, phat
Yeah, it's nothin' but a little baby phat, phat
Yeah, it's nothin' but a little baby phat, phat
Yeah, it's nothin' but a little baby phat, phat
Yeah, it's nothin' but a little baby phat, phat

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3e372df8e44fd672433a55e3366ea0ee

I Don'T Know Officer - Lyrics - 50 Cent

Title: I Don'T Know Officer
Artist: 50 Cent
Composer(s): Curtis Williams, Jake Dutton, Christopher Lloyd, Albert Johnson, Mason Betha, Curtis James Jackson, Kejuan Waliek Muchita

Lyric:
It's 50, it's the Unit
That means it's money, ha ha

Nah nigga I don't know, I don't know who got you
I don't know who stabbed you, I don't know who shot you
I don't know who cut you, I don't know who robbed you
But you think I know 'cause you know how my squad do

Nowadays niggaz snitchin' so much in the street
That you gotta talk to them like they the police
Nah, I don't know nothin' 'bout poppin' the heat
I don't know nothin' 'bout sellin' no beef in the street
Nah, I don't know nothin' 'bout baggin' the grams
I ain't never had no spot or went hand to hand

Me, I don't know nothin' 'bout takin' the stand
I ain't never got a nigga ass stuck in the can
Nah, I don't know nothin' 'bout dro or hash
Coke, dope, ex, dust or crystal meth
Nah, I'm just tryin' to rap to get me some cash
Keep the hip hop police off my ass

Nah nigga I don't know, I don't know who got you
I don't know who stabbed you, I don't know who shot you
I don't know who cut you, I don't know who robbed you
But you think I know 'cause you know how my squad do

Aiyyo, that's my word on the stack of Bibles
I don't know who did it I don't know who responsible
All I know who spittin' all I know who givin'
Me all this cash, just to put down twelve fo' gettin' yo' ass
Listen, keep it far away from me
I ain't got time for sittin' in the penitentuary

All I know is I'm rich, all I know is that G-Unit work
When the album drop they go bezerk
Mad video play, crazy radio spins
Number one all the time, our reign never ends
Don't point the finger at us somebody's shit hangin'
They had a beef with us, plus we don't know nothin'

Nah nigga I don't know, I don't know who got you
I don't know who stabbed you, I don't know who shot you
I don't know who cut you, I don't know who robbed you
But you think I know 'cause you know how my squad do

I don't know nothin' 'bout jumpin' out splittin' homeboy head
But for real that's fucked up they say that homeboy dead
I can't even think, who would want him dead
Have no idea what type of gun they done him with
You see I hear no evil and I see no evil
Ain't tryin' to talk to or hear from or see those people

And I ain't had them little homies burn up no regal
I've been tryin' to do this music thang and just go legal
I don't know why my name in your female phone
But you really startin' to sound like a females homes
Don't know why they told you that we sell stones
We on the internet tryin' to get our email on

Nah nigga, I don't know, I don't know who got you
I don't know who stabbed you, I don't know who shot you
I don't know who cut you, I don't know who robbed you
But you think I know 'cause you know how my squad do

Nah nigga, I don't know who sent them young boys through
To air the strip, shit just be happenin' out the blue
I don't be around here, I ain't hip to the news
I don't know why that man clutchin' on that shit when you move
I don't know why that other rapper got stripped for his jewels
You know how easy it is to get shit confused

I wasn't even in New York, I was just on the cruise
Somewhere way out in the islands with your bitch in the cruise
Oops, my bitch in the cruise, dudes get hit when they snooze
Lose they hit from the Uz, ooze all over the street
I don't know why they said what's up I don't know who's in that jeep
He talk about me all day but I ain't losin' no sleep

Nah nigga I don't know, I don't know who got you
I don't know who stabbed you, I don't know who shot you
I don't know who cut you, I don't know who robbed you
But you think I know 'cause you know how my squad do

I don't know why my charm 'bout as big as your palm
And why the diamond chain I wear as 'bout as long as your arm
You tell me, how many diamonds in my bezel
There's one for every time I had to grind up in the ghetto
I could show you how to do it, you tired of ridin' buicks
I don't know why niggaz rap for years and can't make hotter music

Even when, I don't do it chicks release body fluid
Body drop, shotty pop, and niggaz wanna tie me to it
I don't know why Loon and Fabby won't just say I'm they daddy
Why these Harlem CB4 niggaz just keep comin' at me
Got as many beefs as 50 and a nigga go to church
Could you imagine if my hands was on work, I don't know

Nah nigga I don't know, I don't know who got you
I don't know who stabbed you, I don't know who shot you
I don't know who cut you, I don't know who robbed you
But you think I know 'cause you know how my squad do

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10595ff78911cbb74c8742da46b25f6c

Too Much Information - Lyrics - The Wedding - Duran Duran

Title: Too Much Information
Album: The Wedding
Artist: Duran Duran
Composer(s): Warren Cuccurullo, Simon Le Bon, Nick Rhodes, Nigel Taylor

Lyric:
Destroyed by MTV
I hate to bite the hand that feeds me
So much information
The pressure's on the screen
To sell you things that you don't need
It's too much information for me

Hey, TV child look into my eyes,
Here by intervention, I want your attention
Promotion boy in a suit and tie, he wants you to use it
You're too shot to lose it, it's pumping down the cable like never so before
A Cola manufacturer is sponsoring the war
Here comes the news with love from me to you

Destroyed by ABC
I hate to bite the hand that feeds me
So much information
The pressure's on the screen
To sell you things that you don't need
It's too much information for me

Turn on the tube hits you with a groove
Advertising music we want you to choose it, these teeth are white
Trainers ultra-brite this band is perfect just don't scratch the surface
We covered all the angles the survey people say
Just put us on the cover we'd be smilin' anyway
This video was made with love to you

Destroyed by BBC
I hate to bite the hand that feeds me
So much information
The pressure's on the screen
To sell you things that you don't need
It's too much information

Destroyed by MTV
I hate to bite the hand that feeds me
So much information
The pressure's on the screen
To sell you things that you don't need
It's too much information for me

Dilate your mind
Dilate your mind
Dilate your mind
Dilate your mind

Got to give it to me, got to listen to me
Dilate your mind
Got to give in to me now I'm on the line
I try, got to give it to me, got to listen to me
Got to give in to me now I'm in the line
I try, give it to me, I say I'll try
Give it to me, I'll try
[Incomprehensible]
Give it to me, I'll try

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Too Much Information (Album Version) - Lyrics - The Singles 1986-1995 [BOX SET] - Duran Duran

Title: Too Much Information (Album Version)
Album: The Singles 1986-1995 [BOX SET]
Artist: Duran Duran
Composer(s): Warren Cuccurullo, Simon Le Bon, Nick Rhodes, Nigel Taylor

Lyric:
Destroyed by MTV
I hate to bite the hand that feeds me
So much information
The pressure's on the screen
To sell you things that you don't need
It's too much information for me

Hey, TV child look into my eyes,
Here by intervention, I want your attention
Promotion boy in a suit and tie, he wants you to use it
You're too shot to lose it, it's pumping down the cable like never so before
A Cola manufacturer is sponsoring the war
Here comes the news with love from me to you

Destroyed by ABC
I hate to bite the hand that feeds me
So much information
The pressure's on the screen
To sell you things that you don't need
It's too much information for me

Turn on the tube hits you with a groove
Advertising music we want you to choose it, these teeth are white
Trainers ultra-brite this band is perfect just don't scratch the surface
We covered all the angles the survey people say
Just put us on the cover we'd be smilin' anyway
This video was made with love to you

Destroyed by BBC
I hate to bite the hand that feeds me
So much information
The pressure's on the screen
To sell you things that you don't need
It's too much information

Destroyed by MTV
I hate to bite the hand that feeds me
So much information
The pressure's on the screen
To sell you things that you don't need
It's too much information for me

Dilate your mind
Dilate your mind
Dilate your mind
Dilate your mind

Got to give it to me, got to listen to me
Dilate your mind
Got to give in to me now I'm on the line
I try, got to give it to me, got to listen to me
Got to give in to me now I'm in the line
I try, give it to me, I say I'll try
Give it to me, I'll try
[Incomprehensible]
Give it to me, I'll try

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cd74ca19f2fd572d83a9064d2f89c554

Settle The Score - Lyrics - Tarantula - Mystikal

Title: Settle The Score
Album: Tarantula
Artist: Mystikal
Composer(s): Terius Gray, Chad Hugo, Michael Tyler, Pharrell Williams

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

Lyric:
What you about to hear gon' fuck you up
Because this the first time you ever heard some shit like this nigga
I'm tellin you this shit so off the fucking hook bro
Ya'll man look, check this shit out

Mystikal and Juvenile nigga
Say juvey they don't believe you did the beat bro
What you mean nigga, fuckin' right I did this beat
I tried to tell them niggaz bro

I come with my own look, my own sound, my own style
Who the fuck you think drawed this crowd
It's the ripper, the clean up hitter
You bitter intimidating young long dick nigga
Now suck it, now suck it, while you around here playa hating
Your woman around here screaming fuck me, fuck me
Tell me something, don't I put down on my albums
Motherfucka nobody ever told you I was hard as a NFL helmet

I write 'em, land 'em, plant 'em, bam nigga can't stand 'em
On top, on sight, heads up, bust 'em at random
I got the vest out, put the braids back, put on the bandana
Signed a brand new contract, shot the video in Atlanta
Don't pull me, can't hold me the beat don't move me
You know smokin', drinkin' whenever I kick it with Juvey
Back on my own, back on my zone, feelin' better, lookin' better
Bout to go get it and bring it back home

A nigga got, got but I won't no more
'Cause this time round I come to settle the score
Greedy niggas eat good, but not that long
They wind up with a stomach ache balled up in they home
A nigga got, got but I won't no more
'Cause this time round I come to settle the score
Greedy niggas eat good, but not that long
They wind up with a stomach ache balled up in they home

You better cancel that shit, about you run this here
I ain't seen you on the charts what you done this year
Y'all thought "Project English" was the last of this shit
When I was really only given y'all half of this shit
Fuckin' right I made the beat and I wrote this rap
But a niggaz in the ghetto want to post the crack
Got two niggaz posted watching a bus with macks
Just waiting on the police and niggaz to jack

To people across the nation, thanks for being patient
Ya'll been itching for some G-shit huh, I know you waiting
When you cop the CD, get some herb and ride
Turn the bitch up real loud so you can feel my vibe
I got a long way to go, I'm just gettin' started
I'm 26 years old and I'm still retarded
I ain't talking about handicapped, I'm talking about the way
I talk and express my rap, you feelin' that

A nigga got, got but I won't no more
'Cause this time round I come to settle the score
Greedy niggas eat good, but not that long
They wind up with a stomach ache balled up in they home
A nigga got, got but I won't no more
'Cause this time round I come to settle the score

Anytime you say my name make sure it's some good shit
Look I'm not your eldest rapper, I stay on some hood shit
Am I hatin' on cash money, now stop playin'
I respect it how it came, now I got game
I'm all about U.T.P. family and kids
And takin' care of business it the way that we live
I don't need a record deal just give me my props
How many muthafuckas you know keepin' it hot

Believe it or not, keepin' my spot locked
I got more season than the seafood out the gumbo pot
Now run your mouth and lose your slot
I make 'em feed for me like junk is fever one more rock
Ain't this some shit I'm famous and rich
I got bitches I ain't even fucked claiming my dick
If that's how it is, I guess we gone see
Is this all about that big truck and U.T.P

A nigga got, got but I won't no more
'Cause this time round I come to settle the score
Greedy niggas eat good, but not that long
They wind up with a stomach ache balled up in they home
A nigga got, got but I won't no more
'Cause this time round I come to settle the score
Greedy niggas eat good, but not that long
They wind up with a stomach ache balled up in they home

A nigga got, got but I won't no more
'Cause this time round I come to settle the score
Greedy niggas eat good, but not that long
They wind up with a stomach ache balled up in they home

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It'S All Bad - Lyrics - Chino Xl

Title: It'S All Bad
Artist: Chino Xl
Composer(s): Derek Barbosa, Arthur Ross, Leon Ware, Robert Stevens

Lyric:
Yeah, it's crazy ups and downs, you know what I'm sayin'?
Crazy how the world runs, word up
Check it out, bring it in

Lord, I'm tryin' to keep positive
But this life is full of strife and I'm tired of tryin' to conquer it
Boy, you know I was thinkin' negative
What can go wrong will go wrong until the beast in me vanishes

First of all I was born under a bad sign
Confined to torture, never saw what life had to offer
Time slips away like pop singles on the radio
Chino never had the doe, I was determined though

Sabotaged at birth, cursed by an evil angel
To strangle my aspirations from every angle
From a street corner to a demo deal from Warner
Hardcore performer, crowd warmer

Thought it was on but it wasn't
I never got no budget, stuck like a glue trap, it goes to prove that
Being the greatest lyricist can't paint the full picture
It's a full mixture

I can't get me no, no satisfaction
Like bein' blind watchin' a movie with no closed caption
I need some time to ease my mind
I'm bested, fuck Mr. Wendal my development's arrested

All I wanted to do was rock with my fast ass
And blast past the mass, collect quick cash
Did what I did best, create but began to hate
All these flake music people makin' artists wait

But I'ma be up there one day
And soon to slam wax, innovate rhymes that my fans consume
I view this world through my notepad
Thus expanding my vocab to win, till then it's all bad

Lord, I try to keep positive
But this life is full of strife and I'm tired of tryin' to conquer it
Boy, you know I was thinkin' negative
What can go wrong, will go wrong until the beast in me vanishes

Lord, I try to keep positive
But this life is full of strife and I'm tired of tryin' to conquer it
Boy, you know I was thinkin' negative
What can go wrong, will go wrong until the beast in me vanishes

When I was merely a sophomore, went to Atlanta on a false tour
This ain't what I prayed so hard for
Dreams broken into individual particles
Like porcelain figurings attached to me like barnacles

Now I'm supposed to be happy like Bobby McFerrin
Keep faith, the only thing holy is the drawers I'm wearin'
'89 I aimed to graduate, no exaggerate
I got it now but trust too bad it seems to gravitate

Evaporating positive energy from inside of me
To the point where my love for God no more provides for me
Of course lost pride, obviously the force rides
To paradise no one invites but puts the Bill Of Rights

1430 S A T proving ya
I'm a spick that'll die respective like Rahoul Julia
So cease with, all that street shit
Expect MC from Chi kid, you gets the wicked priest shit, till I see fit

To open my life strife like the pearly gates of Heaven
For merely a entertainment this is my expression
Prepare wealth and I'll share self
Maybe I can help but I'm lost but I be large anywhere else

The illegal, twisted, war novelist
The problem swallowed us, it takes an activated mind to follow this
And true to realm to be ourselves not to follow a fad or give in to trends
Till then, it's all bad

Lord, I try to keep positive
But this life is full of strife and I'm tired of tryin' to conquer it
Boy, you know I was thinkin' negative
What can go wrong will go wrong until the beast in me vanishes

Lord, I try to keep positive
But this life is full of strife and I'm tired of tryin' to conquer it
Boy, you know I was thinkin' negative
What can go wrong, will go wrong until the beast in me vanishes

Unanswered prayers plays the background
I pull my baseball caps down
I hide the tracks of my tears from rappin' peers

I finally got on and soon he wasn't a moment to
I lose my mind, I lose my friends
My daughter's in a coma too

I'm goin' through a strange tug of war inside my mental wall
Record just went platinum, I'm slappin' 'em, I'll show you all
Cover of Rolling Stones, Vibe even TV Guide
Was filmin' my first movie in L.A. when I heard my baby died

Shook it off without a thought that she was beautiful
Soul Train Awards, I go to not my daughters funeral
I stay drunk and high like I'm imperial
Surrounded by more white groupies than a Rakim video

Now life's a tour to me, except the way I was rejected formally
Disrespected neighborhoods I know supported me
It's eatin' me, suicide attempts repeatedly
What I worked so hard for ultimately is defeatin' me

I'm paranoid my own mom can't avoid being a tabloid
So she wasn't shocked when my movie flopped
Caught in the industry, spendin' money frivolously
Now I've been robbed, I can't believe my lawyers did this to me

Next album was filled up with tragedies and despair
Are fans with smilin' faces with no real purpose for bein' here
I call the dear Lord, when in Billboard
I plummet from 3 to 10, it seems that failure is my new trend

Thought I was all that, now I just fall flat, splat
Vials of crack, my old friends won't let me call back
So where am I? Can I find myself a misty storm?
Invisible to God, I'm fallin' off like TJ Swan

Lord, I try to keep positive
But this life is full of strife and I'm tired of tryin' to conquer it
Boy, you know I was thinkin' negative
What can go wrong, will go wrong until the beast in me vanishes

Lord, I try to keep positive
But this life is full of strife and I'm tired of tryin' to conquer it
Boy, you know I was thinkin' negative
What can go wrong, will go wrong until the beast in me vanishes

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d234fc40a62594f86f76c5efb7704ec1

My Band - Lyrics - Eminem

Title: My Band
Artist: Eminem
Composer(s): De Shaun Dupree Holton, Steven King, Rufus B Johnson, Marshall Mathers, Ondre C Moore, Denaun M Porter, Von M Carlisle, Luis Edgardo Resto

Lyric:
I don't know dude
I think everyone's all jealous an' shit
'Cuz I'm like the lead singer of the band, dude
And I think everybody's got a fuckin' problem with me, dude
And they need to take it up with me after the show because

These chicks don't even know the name of my band
But they're all on me like they wanna hold hands
'Cuz once I blow they know that I'll be the man
All because I'm the lead singer of my band

So I get off stage right? Drop the mic
Walk up to these hot chicks and I'm all like
"Sup, ladies? My name's Slim Shady
I'm the lead singer of D12, baby"
They're all like, "Oh, my God, it's him
Becky, oh my fucking God it's Eminem
I swear to fucking God dude, you fucking rock
Please Marshall please, let me suck your cock"

And by now, the rest of the fellas get jealous
Especially when I drop the beat and do my ocupellas
All the chicks start yellin', "All the hot babes
Throw their bras and their shirts and their panties on stage"
So like every single night they pick a fight with me
But when we fight it's kinda like sibling rivalry

'Cuz they're back on stage the next night with me
Dude, I just think they're tryin' to steal the light from me
Yesterday Kuniva tried to pull a knife on me
'Cuz I told him Jessica Albas my wife to be
This rockstar shit is the life for me
And all the other guys just despise me
Because these

These chicks don't even know the name of my band
But they're all on me like they wanna hold hands
'Cuz once I blow they know that I'll be the man
All because I'm the lead singer of my band

My band, my band
My band, my band
My band, my band
My band, my band
MY band, baby

You just want to see a nigga backwards, don'tcha?
Hey man, how come we don't rap on Protools?
And smash these vocals and do a performance
But we in a van, and he in a tour bus
You want my autograph you's a liar
No, I'm Swift
(Oh, I thought you was Kuniva)

And what the hell is wrong with our dressing room?
'Cuz our shit is lookin' smaller than a decimal
See I know how to rap, it's simple but
All I did was read a Russel Simins book
So I'm more intact tryin' to get on the map
Doin' jumpin' jacks while gettin' whipped on my back

Look at 'em little punk ass, thinkin' he the shit
Yeah, I know, man, by himself takin' all the pics
Hey, I thought we had an interview with DJ Clue
No, I had an interview, not you two
You gon' be late for sound check
Man, I ain't goin' to sound check
But our mics are screwed up
And his always sound best

You know what man? I'ma say som'm
Aiyo 'em
You got som'm to say?
Man, nothin'
I thought you was about to tell him off, man whasup?
Man, I'ma tell him when I feel like and man shut up
You ain't even back me up and were supposed to be crew
Man, I was 'bout to talk right after you, I swear
(I swear man)

These chicks don't even know the name of my band
But they're all on me like they wanna hold hands
'Cuz once I blow they know that I'll be the man
All because I'm the lead singer of my band

They say the lead singers hot but the group is not
Once they've sold our arenas to amusement parks
I'm gon' let the world know that Proof is hot
I should cut him mike off when the music starts
Aiyo, it's
Ready to snap on a dumbass fan
Every time I hear, 'Hey dude, I love your band"
We ain't a band bitch

We don't play instruments
So why he get 90 and we only get 10 percent
Of these guys actin' funny over area codes
Proof carry my bag
Bitch carry your own
Can't make it to the stage security in the way
Who the fuck are you? Where's Obie and Dre?

Goddamnit I'm sick of this group
It's time for me to go solo and make some loot
I told you I made the beats wrote all the raps
'Til Kon Artis slipped me some crack
Lose yourself video
(I was in the back)
Superman video
(I was in the back)

For the media, I got some suggestions
Fuck Marshall, ask us some questions
Like who is D12, how we get started?
But what about Eminem? Bitch, are you retarded?
Anyway, I'm the popularest guy in the group
Big ass stomach, bitches think I'm cute
Fitty told me do sit ups to get buff
Did two and a half and couldn't get up
Fuck D12 I'm outta this band
I'm 'bout to start a group with the real Roxanne

Girl, why can't you see you're the
Only one for me and it just
Tears my ass apart to know that
You don't know my name
(Punch)

These chicks don't even know the name of my band
(Haha)
But they're all on me like they wanna hold hands
(Fuck Marshall)
'Cuz once I blow I know that I'll be the man
(Yeah)
All because I'm the lead singer of my

My band, my band
My band, my band
My band, my band
My band, my band
MY band, baby

I'm the lead singer of my band
I get all the girls to take off their underpants
I'm the lead singer of my band
My salsa makes all the pretty girls want to dance "My salsa"
Look out for my next single it's called, "My salsa
My salsa, salsa, salsa, salsa"

My salsa makes all the pretty girls want to dance
And take off their underpants
My salsa makes all the pretty girls want to dance
And take off their underpants
My salsa
Where'd everybody go?

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8612a45f73bfdbde677a936e8c3aea65

The Future Is X-Rated - Lyrics - Beautiful Midnight - Matthew Good Band

Title: The Future Is X-Rated
Album: Beautiful Midnight
Artist: Matthew Good Band
Composer(s): Matthew Frederick Good, David Robert Genn

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

Lyric:
There's holes up in the sky
The Devil punched down to the monkeys
And now they've got drive through
And a video store where there used to be real live actors

Used to ride around here up on my high horse
With all the other good little butcher boys
A plagiarist of course

So roll over sweet thing
Like a nuclear reprisal, inbound from outer space
There's a comparison here I'm trying to swing

God damn, it's deafening
Wish you'd shut up about everything
The future is X rated

There's holes up in the sky
No one's seen your son in days
Things just keep getting weirder and weirder
Now Christmas is for shopping
The shopping, God is everything

So roll over and lose it
'Cuz power is just another one of those things baby
It's pointless if you ain't gonna use it

God damn, it's deafening
Wish you'd shut up about everything
The future is X rated

Used to ride around here on my high, high horse

God damn, it's deafening
Wish you'd shut up, shut up, shut up
The future is X rated, the future is X rated
The future is X rated, the future is X rated

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567f9a99bc40355ec96cd1924b0b727b

Between You &Amp; Me - Lyrics - Marillion

Title: Between You &Amp; Me
Artist: Marillion
Composer(s): Steve Hogarth, Mark Kelly, Ian Mosley, Stephen Rothery, Peter Trewavas

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

Lyric:
Today, I saw music in the sky
I drove towards it in my car
And I turned left and I turned right
But I could never lose the light
That shines towards tomorrow night

Who can say what it means?
What goes on in between
And what gets in between

It's just something
Between you and me
Between you and me
Between you and me
It's as sweet as can be

Today, I saw music in the sky
It sang around me, I went blind
Like a masterpiece in a disguise
Couldn't stop it pulling at my eyes

Who can say what it means?
What goes on in between
And what gets in between
Ice and fire

Between you and me
Between you and me
Sweet as can be
Between you and me

Monday, Tuesday, blow a fuse day
Fix it in the usual way
Meet me at the church and we'll get in a state
Stay up late and I'll wake up feeling like

A kid swinging on Heavens gate
With no God to complain
Or point the finger of blame
We'll get it all down on video 8
You coming out to play?
Could be quite a day

And I sang that pretty tune
An open airy song
And my heart looped the loop
Well I could do no wrong

Who can say what it means?
What goes on in between
Who can say what you see
And what gets in between you and me

Between you and me
Sweet as can be
Between you and me

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f13a6f4b5f527ecf0d50c022f3822e12

Keep 'Em Eager To Listen - Lyrics - Eric B. &Amp; Rakim

Title: Keep 'Em Eager To Listen
Artist: Eric B. &Amp; Rakim
Composer(s): Eric Barrier, W Griffin

Lyric:
Me and the rap's laid back
Nonchalant and relaxed in the track
Put together well, so it ain't hard to tell
Easy to recognize, so my records'll sell
On the microphone, well known with a low tone
Show and prove when the stage show is shown
All you hear is screams when I'm hit by the laser beams
Ladies fiend, rappers are choosin up teams
So who could beat up, just before we meet up
Before I kick a rhyme, I kick my feet up
To let you know, everything's under control
Under surveillance, takin over your soul
So let me handle this, gettin scandalous
All my jams are hits, never plan to miss
Crowd is captured, released at my permission
Peep em, as I, keep em eager to listen

Opponents are found paralyzed from the mic down
Left with a little sight ears still hear the sound
Try to clear your mind but it's still there
Give him about a year, then give him a wheelchair
I damage and deteriorate, til your brain dead
No huss cuss what I discuss'll bust his head
Here's some hearin aids when your eardrums fail
You get scars, so you could read it in braille
Close your third eye, then I do body work
And I keep the same procedure til somebody's hurt
My DJ'll sew up cuts like an M.D
And I still move crowds like an M.C
Entertain and tear you out of your frame
Leave you in a puddle of blood, then let it rain
Then I get deep, so try to withstand
On my level to think, or sink like quicksand
He couldn't hang, so I cut the rope short
Watchin em fall, cause they need more support
This is the way that I done, all of my competition
Peep em, as I, keep em eager to listen

Keep em eager to listen

The performance I give em is, somethin like a hypnotism
Swingin back and forth, til you can keep the rhythm
At the tone of my voice, you will become
Eager to listen dance in a trance til you see the
R on stage, no cheers, all ears
All three of your eyes on me, so it appears
Just like you thought it would be, but even better
Live and direct on stage, instead of the
Radio or video or studio rehearsin
I'm at my best in the flesh in person
The main attraction, center of attention
The crowd'll go crazy, soon as I mention
It's time to communicate, so let's conversate
I get my point across, when you respond I make sense
So now we could continue the mission
As I, keep em eager to listen

As I, keep em eager to listen

I used to always say one day
I'll play in the NBA cause I'll slay
Opponents well, and also excel
As a black quarterback in the NFL
I throw to score so I can hear the crowd roar
Keep em, out of they seats and on the floor
And when I win, it'll pump my adrenaline
My record is undefeated, and I'll win again
I'll never lose or hear boos from the audience
Cause they participate, and applaud me since
I bring em what they want to hear
And they'll fill up the atmopshere
With people that came to party, and have a good time
So when I'm gone, I'm sure, you understood the rhyme
Because I promise to accomplish the mission
Cause I, keep em eager to listen

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7bc213c2166b0c84214b3ceee13192dd

I Didn'T Mean To Kill 'Em - Lyrics - Insane Clown Posse

Title: I Didn'T Mean To Kill 'Em
Artist: Insane Clown Posse
Composer(s): Joseph Bruce, Mike E. Clark, Shaggy 2 Dope Violent J

Lyric:
This is the story of a murderer
A cold blooded killer, a ruthless, harmless, slaughterer

I didn't mean to kill him, listen to me, wait
I was talkin' to a fine ass date, ha ha ha
Phat titties, lookin like pow
And she's tellin me to come by right now

Oh shit, I jumped in the wagon
No more laggin', I'm taggin'
This bitch, dead in the ping hole
Make her lose control

I showed up, I ring the ding dong
Grippin' my wing wong, something's wrong
Who's this, not a bitch, but a dude
And he's tellin me to beat it, fuckin' rude

It's Jimmy, her man, a punk ass
So I throw a left hook at him, splat
Then I came back with a right hook
Pow, he fell to the ground, I didn't mean to kill him

What the hell did you do to Jimmy?
Oh, my God

I didn't mean to kill him, kill him, baby
Didn't mean to kill him, kill the man baby
I didn't mean to kill him, kill him, baby
Didn't mean to kill him, kill the man baby

Oh fuck, he's chillin' with a neck broke
25 to life, is no joke
Don't die, bitch, hang in there
I mean I really don't care, but come on

Move quick, I run to the hospital
Make sure he ain't dead yet, shit
There he is, chillin' with a neck brace
With a look on his face like

Come on Jimmy, it's me, your homey
I even poured a little brew in your IV
Don't die, oh you tryin' to speak
Fuck you, your punches are weak, eheh

So bitch, you wanna talk shit again
I jumped up wit a boot to the chin
Pull his plugs out and start chokin'
Eww, his necks already broken

He swung, hit me wit' a bed pan
I was just makin sure you ain't dead man
Fuck this, I grabbed a scalpel
And stick it down in his scalp, uuh

Calm down, he's dead now, fuck
Here comes somebody, better duck
Gotta hide dead Jimmy quickly
Or 25 to 50, I didn't mean to kill him

Oh, my god Jimmy, what the fuck?

Didn't mean to kill him, kill him, baby
Didn't mean to kill him, kill the man baby
I didn't mean to kill him, kill him, baby
Didn't mean to kill him, kill the man baby

Jumped out the window and drug him home,
Jimmy's dead and I'm finna get the bone
If they catch me, ah the death chair
I don't care they'll never find him here

Jimmy will you get that
What the fuck, he's dead, I'm whick whack
I'm neverous, scared and skitso
Ha ha ha, woo, ha, hello

Yeah, I still need to talk to stupid fuck nut
We're lookin for Jimmy Ballav
He's not here, uhh, wait yeah he is
This Jimmy, I'm alive, I'm not dead, I gotta go

Oh goody, they bought it, hah, they'll never know
I killed his bitch ass
Fuck it though, Jimmy's my room mate
He doesn't even eat much and that's straight

We just chill all day, watch video's
Call Domino's and flick off his toes
Make 'em land into a fish tank, what you think?
Let him sit, fuck off, I didn't mean to kill him

Oh my God, you bastard, you killed Jimmy

Didn't mean to kill him, kill him, baby
Didn't mean to kill him, kill the man baby
Didn't mean to kill him, kill him, baby
Didn't mean to kill him, kill the man baby

This was the story of a murderer
A cold blooded killer, a ruthless, harmless, slaughterer

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0edf8dec58903beebeb791db6a25beca

Storybook Life - Lyrics - Singles - Blessid Union Of Souls

Title: Storybook Life
Album: Singles
Artist: Blessid Union Of Souls
Composer(s): Eddie Hedges, Brian Lovely, Jeff Pence, Matt - Emosia Senatore, Ashley Shepherd, Curt Benton

Lyric:
Said to myself, "I'm the man I got a pocket full of money"
Cert's in my mouth in case my breath gets kinda funky
I saw this hottie staring right at me she kinda looks like
That chick that did that video with Tommy Lee

Oh man, is she coming over? I gotta
Get this show on the road yea, yea, yea

She said, "Where have I seen you before
And if you didn't like that, well, I got about 20 more
I need a mack diggedy daddy, ta take me out in his caddy
And we can kick it till the briggedy briggedy break a dawn"

I said, "It sounds like fun, but I ain't widdit"
But if you're a good boy I just might let you
Hold my hand because I ain't about the wham bam
Thank you ma'am, I hope ya understand that

I don't want Britney tonight and Salma, yea, she's alright
I've seen Buffy and she don't slay me
'Cause baby, you're just the type stay up and talk to all night
Would you be the star in my storybook life?
In my storybook life

Yeah, I drove her home and she was feeling kinda frisky
I told her nighty night and then she asked if she could kiss me
She said, "Don't you wanna spend the night?"
And then she bit me on the ear I felt like I was in a Tyson fight

Oh God, she's losin' control now, so I said
"I just want someone to hold, yea, yea, yea"

Mariah, she ain't for me that brunette on V.I.P.
She don't hold a candle to you
'Cause baby, you're just the type stay up and talk to all night
Would you be the star in my storybook life

Oh, baby, you're just the type I can talk to all night
Be the star in my storybook life

Sabrina, Felicity, Meg Ryan, I won't lose sleep
You can keep your Halle Berry
'Cause baby, you're just the type for this show's Mrs. Right
You can be the star in my storybook life
In my storybook life, this is my storybook life

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a7e0ca26ceaf6e64d0c2a82e5c74969a

Do Dat - Lyrics - Petey Pablo

Title: Do Dat
Artist: Petey Pablo
Composer(s): Moses Barrett Iii, Darrol K. Durant, Roger Munroe

Lyric:
Are you a gun busting nigga?
(Buh-buh-buh-buh)
Are you a bitch baggin' nigga?
(Whu-whu-whu-whu)
You got ice and ya chain and ya chong wit your rolly on
Not just any rolly but you bought the most expensive one
Hey take ya car keys to ya class E
Big body be for your CD on ya DVD
For ya T.V in ya head beats
In ya back seat
Y'all think I'm mean

Runnin' round talking 'bout the shit that you talking 'bout
How you the drug game sewed up and locked down
John Gotti got life and I'm sure he never told nobody
Boy lets put on an album so the fuckin' feds could buy it

You should be shouting out them bodies you buried
Nine millimeters in tex and Dem AK47's
Illegal weapon you talking 'bout you suck in the club
You got so many guns
Tell me why you rapping stead of getting robbed
I got two more verses for you
This ain't just to an individual person
These questions here for all of ya

I can write a song with out ice, bitches, and cars
Can you mutha fuckas do dat
(Do dat)
I can blaze a track with out bustin' a gat at a cat
Can you mutha fuckas do dat
(Do dat)

Yoouu gonna have to change up all yo shit in a little bit
When the radios in the club get to pumpin' dis
And they start to finding out what what rappin' really is

Yoouu gonna have to change up all yo shit in a little bit
When the radios in the club get to pumpin' dis
And they start to finding out what what rappin' really is

Now that you know what the song about
Y'all probably cussin' me out
You gonna listen to it anyhow
Lets talk about somebody Eskimo
Rentin' they jewelry from Jacob
And don't let me know
You got a platinum piece
But your chain is plain right gone
After the video it gotta go back to the store
That's crazy

Talkin' 'bout some shit you don't own
Oughta be ashamed of yourself
Yo don't they call that frontin' holmes?
You ain't jigga, nigga
Nor can you spin like puff
And got a cash money deal
So what's your big Willy talk for?
I get so excited man
Your track got me leapin'
Then you start rhyming and yawn
I get sleepy

Yoouu gonna have to change up all yo shit in a little bit
When the radios in the club get to pumpin' dis
And they start to finding out what what rappin' really is

I can write a song with out ice, bitches, and cars
Can you mutha fuckas do dat
(Do dat)
I can blaze a track with out bustin' a gat at a cat
Can you mutha fuckas do dat
(Do dat)

It's a sad situation
Record name buggin' out
'Cuz they star artist done ran out of shit to talk about
Whoa
Yeah that's crazy
And you think about it baby
Only thing that changed in yo rhyme
Was ya day 2000

Oh that shit is hot
Put that on the album
You heard it with my man
Kick that shit
Loud and proud
Nigga swear he be throwin' down
Arthur lose his voice every time he opens his mouth
I oughta hold up a signs and boycott they ass right
No more muthafuckin' sound a likes
Sounded like

(Mobb deep!)
Sounded like
(Jay-Z!)
Sounded like
(B.I.B.!)
And we don't need no more please

Yoouu gonna have to change up all yo shit in a little bit
When the radios in the club get to pumpin' dis
And they start to finding out what what rappin' really is

Yoouu gonna have to change up all yo shit
(Yo shit)
Yo shit, yo shit
(Yo shit, yo shit)

Play the MP3 online for free!

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