Leave Out All The Rest (Real One) - Lyrics - Linkin Park

Title: Leave Out All The Rest (Real One)
Artist: Linkin Park
Composer(s): Chester Bennington, Dave Farrell, Mike Shinoda, Brad Delson, Joseph Hahn, Robert Bourdon

Lyric:
I dreamed I was missing
You were so scared
But no one would listen
'Cause no one else cared

After my dreaming
I woke with this fear
What am I leaving
When I'm done here?

So if you're asking me
I want you to know

When my time comes
Forget the wrong that I've done
Help me leave behind some
Reasons to be missed

And don't resent me
And when you're feeling empty
Keep me in your memory
Leave out all the rest, leave out all the rest

Don't be afraid
I've taken my beating
I've shed but I'm me

I'm strong on the surface
Not all the way through
I've never been perfect
But neither have you

So if you're asking me
I want you to know

When my time comes
Forget the wrong that I've done
Help me leave behind some
Reasons to be missed

Don't resent me
And when you're feeling empty
Keep me in your memory
Leave out all the rest, leave out all the rest

Forgetting all the hurt inside
You've learned to hide so well
Pretending someone else can come
And save me from myself
I can't be who you are

When my time comes
Forget the wrong that I've done
Help me leave behind some
Reasons to be missed

Don't resent me
And when you're feeling empty
Keep me in your memory
Leave out all the rest, leave out all the rest

Forgetting all the hurt inside
You've learned to hide so well
Pretending someone else can come
And save me from myself
I can't be who you are
I can't be who you are

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68c753af6e4f5a1709d7ef5dacf65d2a

Leave Out All The Rest - Lyrics - Minutes To Midnight - Linkin Park

Title: Leave Out All The Rest
Album: Minutes To Midnight
Artist: Linkin Park
Composer(s): Chester Bennington, Dave Farrell, Mike Shinoda, Brad Delson, Joseph Hahn, Robert Bourdon

Lyric:
I dreamed I was missing
You were so scared
But no one would listen
'Cause no one else cared

After my dreaming
I woke with this fear
What am I leaving
When I'm done here?

So if you're asking me
I want you to know

When my time comes
Forget the wrong that I've done
Help me leave behind some
Reasons to be missed

And don't resent me
And when you're feeling empty
Keep me in your memory
Leave out all the rest, leave out all the rest

Don't be afraid
I've taken my beating
I've shed but I'm me

I'm strong on the surface
Not all the way through
I've never been perfect
But neither have you

So if you're asking me
I want you to know

When my time comes
Forget the wrong that I've done
Help me leave behind some
Reasons to be missed

Don't resent me
And when you're feeling empty
Keep me in your memory
Leave out all the rest, leave out all the rest

Forgetting all the hurt inside
You've learned to hide so well
Pretending someone else can come
And save me from myself
I can't be who you are

When my time comes
Forget the wrong that I've done
Help me leave behind some
Reasons to be missed

Don't resent me
And when you're feeling empty
Keep me in your memory
Leave out all the rest, leave out all the rest

Forgetting all the hurt inside
You've learned to hide so well
Pretending someone else can come
And save me from myself
I can't be who you are
I can't be who you are

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94e8f5785a9341eb224578e48d6be851

Party Over - Lyrics - The Infamous - Mobb Deep

Title: Party Over
Album: The Infamous
Artist: Mobb Deep
Composer(s): Tajuan Akeom Perry, Kejuan W Muchita, Albert J Johnson

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

Lyric:
Whatever? Party's over tell the rest of the crew
Yo P, it's on you, what you wanna do?
Whatever? Party's over tell the rest of the crew
Yo P, it's on you, what you wanna do?

Whatever? Party's over tell the rest of the crew
Yo P, it's on you, what you wanna do?
Whatever? Party's over tell the rest of the crew

Every day of my life since 11-2-74
On the street makin' non-stop cream galore
Packin' heat, stickin' up weed stores and more
Collectin' interest off of extortions to settle my score

It gets deeper when things get real
I'm down to stickin' out west bank for my mill
And I'm from Hampstead, it's close to the shacks of park south
Well, I'll be outside slingin', you're always high

And don't come around to the crossroads of life
We're to the death, you and me, this beef for eternity
I'm goin' out to the fullest extent
So far into my troubles it's hard for me to get back

To my everyday self and composure
Catch you when you open then I bring you to a closure
Put ice on a razor and freeze ya when ya shelter
I went for ya grill but you dent from my rolder

I know this kid who says he knows ya because of that
Now, I know where ya lay ya hat at and that's that
Say no more, I put it on you while you was yawnin'
Murder without warnin' the very next mornin'

Once we step through the door, party over, that's the endin'
You and your crew'll leave out, a bunch of dead men
Bump me and I'll bump you back
You ain't tough black, niggas like you just get their life jacked

But I'ma cool nigga til' you push me through the limit
But try ta play me and ya ass I get up all in it
Don't try to cop please now son, it's dead and done
I gave you fair warning so run and get your guns

It's on, time to show 'em how I perform
My attitude'll transform, leave you dead plus wrong
Gettin' the flow within, representin' for queens
Shit is real, why you hopin' that it's all a dream

But you can't wake up, wettin' a chest you bless
Chokin' off your own blood
Don't blame me you brought your own death

Aiyo Noyd, it's on you, what you wanna do?
Whatever? Party's over tell the rest of the crew
Yo Big Noyd it's on you, what you wanna do?
Whatever? Party's over tell the rest of the crew

Yo Big Noyd it's on you, what you wanna do?
Whatever? Party's over tell the rest of the crew
Yo Big Noyd it's on you, what you wanna do?
Whatever? Party's over tell the rest of the crew

My beeper kept beepin', the other numbers started leakin'
'Who is this on my mind? I was thinkin'
Then I realized it was my dun playin' 911
Once I seen the numbers I ran for the fuckin' guns

My dun in trouble, I be there on the double
I jumped up in the bubble, yo kid where are you?
1-14 between Manhattan and Morningside Avenue
This happened just right out the blue

Aiyo dun, fuck that bitch, tell her get off your dick
But she's cryin' and she says she has feelin's and shit
Yo it's a settup, them niggas got me fed up
Ty stay in the buildin', if they move fuckin' buck 'em

Get up off the scene, you know what I mean?
And hide yourself down with them other fuckin' sixteen
Glock and get off they block
Then I hung up the cellular, ready to rock
And it's on

Yo, you get deaded in the streets, kid set it
You gots no credit, fool you get wetted
Up with the semi-auto mac double, love it
Did he shoot eleven or twelve' is what he wondered?

Nigga I got one more shot, you must be drinkin'
Put the heater to his head, watch him start blinkin'
'Am I goin to heaven or hell? Is what he's thinkin'
Switch to a bitch as his life start sinkin'

Down to a level of no return
Pull out the heat cos when the slugs hit it definitely burns
Now, chill and think about your life for real
Every member of my crew is livin life for real

Got your self fucked into somethin that you couldn't finish
Up against the fulliest squad and get diminished
I'm from Q U E another E N S
So why you small tough talk? I'm not impressed
If I seen you in the bridge, I'd make you undress
Give up the money, the polo especially the guess

Big Noyd, party's over, tell the rest of the crew
Havoc, party's over, tell the rest of the crew
Black Ice, party's over, tell the rest of the crew
Queensbridge, party's over, tell the rest of the crew

The Big Twins, party's over, tell the rest of the crew
Ty, party's over, tell the rest of the crew
Yo Black, it's over, tell the rest of the crew
My man Killer, party's over, tell the rest of the crew

Germ, it's over, tell the rest of the crew
Karate Joe, it's over, tell the rest of the crew
Ron Gotti, it's over, tell the rest of the crew
Karl Capone, party's over, tell the rest of the crew

Rasheim, party's over, tell the rest of the crew
Stobo, party's over, tell the rest of the crew
Tena, party's over, tell the rest of the crew
Skins, it's over, tell the rest of the crew

And the whole fuckin' projects
It's over, tell the rest of the crew
It's over, tell the rest of the crew
It's over, tell the rest of the crew

Party's over, tell the rest of the crew
Party's over, tell the rest of the crew
The motherfuckin' party's over, tell the rest of the crew

Get that nappy up
Yo get that nappy up
Son get that nappy up
Queens get that nappy up
Yo get that nappy up

Yo motherfucker party's over
Yo motherfucker party's over
Yo motherfucker party's over
Yo motherfucker party's over

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618df12ecfe11725171cae8b54219738

Z - Face Off - Lyrics - In My Lifetime Vol. 1 - Jay

Title: Z - Face Off
Album: In My Lifetime Vol. 1
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Manu Dibango, Jean C Olivier, Samuel Barnes, Todd Gaither, Shawn Carter

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

Lyric:
Sauce mothafuckin, jigga, feel this

This goes out to my Brooklyn crew
Put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me
Fuck 'em all day, fuck 'em all night
We don't love these hoes

This goes out to my Brooklyn crew
Put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me
Fuck 'em all day, fuck 'em all night
We don't love these hoes

Yeah, if ya want some, put ya guns up, it's on
Ladies know that when the sun's up, I'm gone
Fuck them bitches though, digits though
Fuck, now if I bring it, niggas know what

All black gat with the mack out
I take shorty to the rest, blow her back out
Sun dress, undress, throw her back out
In and out like a crack house, keep it moving

Face off with the .38 scraped off
Keep shorty maced, can't throw a 4-4 eight ball
Know your place, so it starts when ya least expect
The yeast infect, you don't imitate bitches
Piece protected, so, I hear you hate bitches

Love the dough, ya flow irritate niggas
Fuck them though, it's all out and have a fall out
I fucked ya girl, on top, now we call out, fuck the world
Face off!

This goes out to my Brooklyn crew
Put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me
Fuck 'em all day, fuck 'em all night
We don't love these hoes

This goes out to my Brooklyn crew
Put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me
Fuck 'em all day, fuck 'em all night
We don't love these hoes

I apologize ladies, I'm lovin' you right
You must be used to me trickin' but we fuckin' tonight
No wine, no dine, no wheelin' the whip
All night long just feelin' the dick

Sauce mothafuckin', slayin', I'm sayin' with no delayin'
Can you beat that? I eat that, you just playin'
Nigga, you never know what a chick could do
Pull the trigga too, check the shit, jigga do

My crew, mackin' the same bitch, I do
Back man stack grands, daddy like I you
Love them hoes jigga, ha, how that sound?
Women start to fall, we all bat around

Let my whole team hit it, scatter 'round
You never seen wit it, pat 'em down
Check for cream in it, these riches
Got nothin' to do wit these bitches
Nothin' y'all can do to stop these digits
Face off!

This goes out to my Brooklyn crew
Put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me
Fuck 'em all day, fuck 'em all night
We don't love these hoes

This goes out to my Brooklyn crew
Put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me
Fuck 'em all day, fuck 'em all night
We don't love these hoes

Can I touch that? What's that? Leave it for dead
Keep your arm over your face, my nigga, keep your head
Keep a mind to survive, if ya sleep ya dead
Stay fly 'til ya die nigga, deep with prayer

With each word ya say, I guess, the beef is dead
Ladies and gentlemen, like impeach the prez
Val Kilmer style nigga draw heat with feds
Broad day like De Niro, shoot all day

I'm the man fuckin' the tracks and you just foreplay
Get a hit, I, I come through, blow up, you spit out
What, keep it cocked faithfully like salop
With one in the drop, don't get hit up

I be the four-fifth flamer and hoes bitch shamer
What clap cats a snitch, she'll give ya whole click, name up
Look, I done came up and thought a whole game up
Meet me in the square with one in the chamber
The face off, nigga

This goes out to my Brooklyn crew
Put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me
Fuck 'em all day, fuck 'em all night
We don't love these hoes

This goes out to my Brooklyn crew
Put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me
Fuck 'em all day, fuck 'em all night
We don't love these hoes

This goes out to my Brooklyn crew
Put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me
Fuck 'em all day, fuck 'em all night
We don't love these hoes

This goes out
Put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me, if ya feel
Fuck 'em all day, fuck 'em all night
We don't love these hoes

Yeah, this goes out to my Brooklyn crew

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b228454e9e9aca9f3aab1c9b7a073d74

Z - Some How Some Way - Lyrics - The Blueprint 2: The Gift & The Curse - Jay

Title: Z - Some How Some Way
Album: The Blueprint 2: The Gift & The Curse
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Shawn Carter, Michael Mcglory, Brad Jordan, Dwight Grant, J Smith

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

Lyric:
Please believe that
Some how some way
We gotta make it up out the hood some day
Some how some way
We gotta make it up out this life
Some how some way
We gotta make it up out the hood some day
Some way we gotta make it up out this life

Whether we dribble out this motherfucker
Rap metaphors and riddle out this motherfucker
Work second floors, hospital out this motherfucker
Some how we gotta get up out this motherfucker
Some day the cops will kill a motherfucker
I don't always want to be this drug dealing motherfucker damn
Wish I could take us all on this magic carpet ride through the sky

I use to play the hall up fifth floor me
And my boys we all poor getting high
I seen the worst of the worst I deserve every blessing I received
I'm from the dirt, I planted my seed on unfertile land
Myrtle Park, Marcy, Flushing and Nostrand
And still I grew some how I knew the sun will shine through
And touch my soul take hold of my hand
Look man a tree grows in Brooklyn

Some how some way
I gotta make it up out the hood someday
Some how some way
I gotta make it up out this life, c'mon
Some way I gotta make it up out the hood someday

To old Nell, Sigel street I ain't forget you
Twenty niggas on the block trying to chase that buck
Nosey neighbors and haters keep their face on stuck
Cops roll up on the pavement break the dice games up
Behind smoke kids can't chase the ice cream truck
Girls fighting over Rollie young boys hype things up

Niggas fighting over Cold young boys light things up
All the petty ass wars fuck the night scene up
Remember Lil' Eddie man how he light mean up
Then they wonder why we light green up
Back to back steamer trying to relax but I can't
I lean up, ain't the L or the refer that steam up, that steam up

It's my head stress to the point I get a fever
Thinking bout the block and all the mothers and kids
That can't leave and how the Chinks gotta feed'em
For the rest of their life fucking wings fried
Vegetable rice, gotta be kidding, no breakfast, Cap'n Crunch at night
Our kids eating lunch at night in their beds all bunched in tight

No less than three or four, you know how it go
Two by the foot two by the headboard
Man I'm getting scared for them, yeah I know
That's how I feel for 'em and we gotta grip the shorties on the block
All they do is smoke weed and drink forties, cock their lower quarties
Enough to get the latest roc, newest glock and old Jordies

Some how some way
We gonna make it up out this hood one day
Some how some way
We gonna make it up out this life
Some how some way
We gonna make it up out the hood one day
Some way we gonna make it up out this life

Right here another lil' story bout this click I claimed
Another chapter based on how I get that game
Hanging round my neighborhood and bang my street
Sit and watch the passer-bys play my sweep
South-side sunny side blocks I run South Vegas, South Paul

Nigga all got guns
Over here we got this poor child, he'd that there
We know tomorrow ain't promise so we get that there
Fuck sitting in the living room guarding the steps
Working inside a slump house starving to death

Serving these nigga flippers, quarter-ounces and zippers
Agents snapping your picture neighbors plotting to get ya
Situations is critic I was out here to get it
Living it like a savage cause nigga I gotta have it
And holding back all the mothers for a minute, pumping hard dog

Erase enough to walk it down and fuck it all dog
Love being willied and your creek gonna rise
I'm be a nigga and these streets gonna rise
Some how some way, some how some way
I'm be a nigga and these streets gonna rise, some how some way

Some how some way
We gotta make it up out the hood some day
Some how some way
We gotta make it up out this life
Some how some way
We gotta make it up out the hood some day
Some way we gotta make it up out this life

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f542eee43057a8656809346352c3a198

Up In Here - Lyrics - Dmx

Title: Up In Here
Artist: Dmx
Composer(s): Earl Simmons, Kaseem Dean

Lyric:
Y'all gon' make me lose my mind up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me go all out up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me act a fool up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me lose my cool up in here, up in here

If I gotsta bring it to you cowards then it's gonna be quick, aight
All your mens up in the jail before, suck my dick
And all them other cats you run with, get done with, dumb quick
How the fuck you gonna cross the dog with some bum shit? Aight

There go the gun click, nine one one shit
All over some dumb shit, ain't that some shit
Y'all niggaz remind me of a strip club, 'cause everytime
You come around, it's like what I just gotta get my dick sucked

And I don't know who the fuck you think you talkin' to
But I'm not him, aight slim? So watch what you do
Or you gon' find yourself, buried next to someone else
And we all thought you loved yourself

But that couldn't have been the issue or maybe
They just sayin' that, now 'cause they miss you
Shit a nigga tried to diss you that's why you layin'
On your back, lookin' at the roof of the church
Preacher tellin' the truth and it hurts

Y'all gon' make me lose my mind up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me go all out up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me act a fool up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me lose my cool up in here, up in here

Off the chain I leave niggaz soft in the brain
'Cause niggaz still want the fame, off the name
First of all, you ain't rapped long enough
To be fuckin' with me and you, you ain't strong enough

So whatever it is you puffin' on that got you think that you Superman
I got the kryptonite, should I smack him with my dick and the mic?
Y'all niggaz is characters, not even good actors
What's gon' be the outcome? Hmm, let's add up all the factors

You wack, you're twisted, your girl's a hoe
You're broke, the kid ain't yours and everybody know
Your old man say you stupid, you be like so?
I love my baby mother, I never let her go

I'm tired of weak ass niggaz whinin' over puss
That don't belong to them, fuck is wrong with them?
They fuck it up for real niggaz like my mans and them
Who get it on on the strength of the hands with them, man

Y'all gon' make me lose my mind up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me go all out up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me act a fool up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me lose my cool up in here, up in here

I bring down rains so heavy it curse the head
No more talkin' put him in the dirt instead
You keep walin' lest you tryin' to end up red
'Cause if I end up fed, y'all end up dead

'Cause youse a soft type nigga
Fake up north type nigga
Puss like a soft white nigga
Dog is a dog, blood's thicker than water

We done been through the mud and we quicker to slaughter
The bigger the order, the more guns we brought out
We run up in there, everybody come out, don't nobody run out
Sun in to sun out, I'ma keep the gun out

Nigga runnin his mouth? I'ma blow his lung out
Listen, yo' ass is about to be missin'
You know who gon' find you? Who? Some old man fishin'
Grandma wishin' your soul's at rest
But it's hard to digest with the size of the hole in your chest

Y'all gon' make me lose my mind up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me go all out up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me act a fool up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me lose my cool up in here, up in here

Hold up, err
One, two, meet me outside
Meet me outside, meet me outside
All my Ruff Ry-Ders gon' meet me outside

Meet me outside, meet me outside
All my big ball-ers gon' meet me outside
Meet me outside, meet me outside
All my fly lad-ies gon' meet me outside

Meet me outside, meet me outside
All my street street peoples meet me outside
Meet me outside, outside motherfucker

X is got y'all bouncin' again
Bouncin' again, bounce bouncin' again
Dark Man X got ya bouncin' again
Bouncin' again, bounce bouncin' again

Swizz Beatz got y'all bouncin' again
Bouncin' again, bounce bouncin' again
Ruff Ryders got y'all bouncin' again
Bouncin' again, bounce bouncin' again

Dark Man keep you bouncin' again
Bouncin' again, bounce bouncin' again
Dark Man keep you bouncin' again
Bouncin' again, bounce bouncin' again

All my streets they bouncin' again bouncin'
Again, we're bouncin' again
Swizz, Swizz Beatz we bouncin again
Bouncin' again and we bouncin' again
Double R keep it comin', ain't nuttin' y'all, ain't nuttin' y'all can do, now

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19e4e315fbd2386db55ed6574b52fa9f

Party Up - Lyrics - And Then There Was X - Dmx

Title: Party Up
Album: And Then There Was X
Artist: Dmx
Composer(s): Earl Simmons, Kaseem Dean

Lyric:
Y'all gon' make me lose my mind
Up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me go all out
Up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me act a fool
Up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me lose my cool
Up in here, up in here

If I gotsta bring it to you cowards then it's gonna be quick, aight
All your mens up in the jail before suck my dick
And all them other cats you run with, get done with, dumb quick
How the fuck you gonna cross the dog with some bum shit? Aight

There go the gun click, nine one one shit
All over some dumb shit, ain't that some shit
Y'all niggaz remind me of a strip club, 'cause every time
You come around, it's like what, I just gotta get my dick sucked

And I don't know who the fuck you think you talkin' to
But I'm not him, aight Slim? So watch what you do
Or you gon' find yourself, buried next to someone else
And we all thought you loved yourself

But that couldn't have been the issue, or maybe they just sayin' that
Now 'cause they miss you, shit a nigga tried to diss you
That's why you layin' on your back, lookin' at the roof of the church
Preacher tellin' the truth and it hurts

Y'all gon' make me lose my mind
Up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me go all out
Up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me act a fool
Up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me lose my cool
Up in here, up in here

Off the chain I leave niggaz soft in the brain
'Cause niggaz still want the fame, off the name
First of all, you ain't rapped long enough
To be fuckin' with me and you, you ain't strong enough

So whatever it is you puffin' on that got you thinkin' that you Superman
I got the kryptonite, should I smack him with my dick and the mic?
Y'all niggaz is characters, not even good actors
What's gon' be the outcome? Hmm, let's add up all the factors

You wack, you're twisted, your girl's a hoe
You're broke, the kid ain't yours, and everybody know
Your old man say, "You're stupid", you be like, "So?
I love my baby mother, I never let her go"

I'm tired of weak ass niggaz, whinin' over puss
That don't belong to them, fuck is wrong with them?
They fuck it up for real niggaz like my mans and them
Who get it on on the strength of the hands with them, man

Y'all gon' make me lose my mind
Up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me go all out
Up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me act a fool
Up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me lose my cool
Up in here, up in here

I bring down rains so heavy it curse the head
No more talkin', put him in the dirt instead
You keep walin' lest you tryin' to end up red
'Cause if I end up fed, y'all end up dead

'Cause youse a soft type nigga, fake up north type nigga
Puss like a soft white nigga
Dog is a dog, blood's thicker than water
We done been through the mud and we quicker to slaughter

The bigger the order, the more guns we brought out
We run up in there, everybody come out, don't nobody run out
Sun in to sun out, I'ma keep the gun out
Nigga runnin' his mouth? I'ma blow his lung out

Listen, your ass is about to be missin'
You know who gon' find you? Who? Some old man fishin'
Grandma wishin' your soul's at rest
But it's hard to digest with the size of the hole in your chest

Y'all gon' make me lose my mind
Up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me go all out
Up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me act a fool
Up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me lose my cool
Up in here, up in here

Hold up! Err
One, two, meet me outside
Meet me outside, meet me outside
All my Ruff Ryders gon' meet me outside
Meet me outside, meet me outside
All my big ballers, gon' meet me outside
Meet me outside, meet me outside
All my fly ladies, gon' meet me outside
Meet me outside, meet me outside
All my street, street peoples meet me outside
Meet me outside, outside motherfucker

X is got y'all bouncin' again
Bouncin' again, bounce, bouncin' again
Dark Man X got ya bouncin' again
Bouncin' again, bounce, bouncin' again
Swizz Beatz got y'all bouncin' again
Bouncin' again, bounce, bouncin' again
Ruff Ryders got y'all bouncin' again
Bouncin' again, bounce, bouncin' again
Dark Man keep you bouncin' again

Bouncin' again, bounce, bouncin' again
Dark Man keep you bouncin' again
Bouncin' again, bounce, bouncin' again
All my streets they bouncin' again
Bouncin' again, we're bouncin' again
Swizz Swizz Beatz we bouncin' again
Bouncin' again and we bouncin' again
Double R keep it comin', ain't nothin' y'all
Ain't nothing y'all can do, now

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f2c6ffe5961aad2e32e44b6fb846621c

Fall Out - Lyrics - 4:21...the Day After - Method Man

Title: Fall Out
Album: 4:21...the Day After
Artist: Method Man
Composer(s): Clifford Smith, K Holland

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

Lyric:
This, this is brought to you
By the K-1, Emergency Broadcasting System
In the, in the event of an actual emergency
You will be told to fall out

S.I. rockin' it, N.Y. rockin' it
S*** we stay poppin' it, 4-5 rockin' it
Game stay on top of it, lame, just the opposite
It's no thang, when I "bring the pain" ain't no stopping it

Who the f*** is this? About to bring the ruckus
This just ya boy, I'm some on other s***, my n****, take a puff of this
Piff man, I'm loving this, is Staten Island up in this?
B****, like we running it, and somebody wanna public

Turn it up a bit, so my thugs can thug a bit
If I got my brother get, K, we got another hit
L***** please, where y'all puffin' them trees?
I'm damaging M.C.'s, oxygen, you can't breathe, fall

Fall out, yeah, I'm going all out
Hold on, man, what's really going on
And when I'm coming, a hundred miles and running
Keep back, y'all ain't got it like that

Fall out, yeah, I'm going all out
Hold on, man, what's really going on
And when I'm coming, a hundred miles and running
Keep back, y'all ain't got it like that

Here we go again, h***-smoke, blowing in the wind
Cops chasing, wanna throw him in the pen
And the day he leave the game, yo, he going in the Benz
On them 24's looking like he rolling on the rims

All daying, know what I'm sayin', I'm staying up to par, parleyin'
While y'all hating, I'm splitting this cigar
Man, it's nathan, all y'all do is aim and start spraying
'Cause tonight's the night, and me and my n****z ain't playing

Y'all done did it now, another critic kicked Tical
Alotta n****z mad 'cause I ain't fold like they figure now
Let me put my fitted down, spit around
Listen when this hit the ground, y'all gon' hear the difference now

Here I got that miracle, sickest individual
Flow that's so original, see this is what they meant to do
It's not an act, it's all actual fact
The kid is back, making tracks, catch panic attacks, and fall

Fall out, yeah, I'm going all out
Hold on, man, what's really going on
And when I'm coming, a hundred miles and running
Keep back, y'all ain't got it like that

Fall out, yeah, I'm going all out
Hold on, man, what's really going on
And when I'm coming, a hundred miles and running
Keep back, y'all ain't got it like that

Aww s***, ain't this about a b****
Give a f*** about a b****, I'm more about a grip
And I'm all that a n**** got, the more he gotta get
Feeling like a million dollars, buyin' million dollar s***

What y'all dealing with, one shot killing it?
Stop changing my style, when y'all stop stealing it
Meth is chillin' like milk top killing
If it ain't got no real in it, I'm probably not feeling it

I'm deadin' ya kids and burn another blizz
What it is, what it is, Wu-Tang is for the kids?
So n****z please, why y'all puffin' them trees
I'm damaging M.C.'s, oxygen, they can't breathe, fall

Fall out, yeah, I'm going all out
Hold on, man, what's really going on
And when I'm coming, a hundred miles and running
Keep back, y'all ain't got it like that

Fall out, yeah, I'm going all out
Hold on, man, what's really going on
And when I'm coming, a hundred miles and running
Keep back, y'all ain't got it like that

Rest in peace Ol' Dirty B****** a.k.a Dirt McGirt

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e16c6a6a2df4ad6d9386214ead9ac531

Stand Up - Lyrics - Guilty - Blue

Title: Stand Up
Album: Guilty
Artist: Blue
Composer(s): Anthony Daniel Costa, Duncan Matt James Inglis, Lee Ryan, Joseph Belmaati, Simon Soloman Webbe, Mich Hansen, Mikkel Remee Sigvardt

Lyric:
Album three y'all
Blue, Blue
Check it out

Ooh, I like what you do
Take the time out tonight
Let me hear you say, ahh
And we can take it far
Gonna make you feel alright

Ooh, same everyday
No fun, no work and no play
Let me hear you say, ahh
I know what you like
Take your time out tonight

I like it when you're close to me
'Cause you're making the most of me
And shorty you inspire me
To be all the man I can be

'Cause we roll like the sound of thunder
When it's only you and me
And can nobody take us under
'Cause the rest is history

So everybody stand up
If you work all day
Maybe you deserve a little time to play
Hands up
We're gonna feel alright
Take the time off tonight

Ooh, don't leave the bedroom
Stay by my side
Let me hear you say, ahh
You shine like a star
Brightly in my eyes

Ooh, it's a matter of fact
No change 'cause I'm happy like that
Let me hear you say, aah
Leave the keys to your car
You're staying with me tonight

I like it when you're close to me
'Cause you're making the most of me
And shorty you inspire me
To be all the man I can be

'Cause we roll like the sound of thunder
When it's only you and me
(You and me)
And can nobody take us under
'Cause the rest is history
(Rest is history)

So everybody stand up
If you work all day
Maybe you deserve a little time to play
(Time to play)
Hands up
We're gonna feel alright
Take the time off tonight

Here we go, come on
Try my best just to please ya
Don't leave me here 'cause I need ya
If you want I will tell ya
(Over and over again)
Try my best just to please ya
Don't leave me here 'cause I need ya
Look no further this is all we need

Yo, let's get jiggy, jiggy
I hope you feel me
So are you gonna give it to me?
We never spend no time to get busy, busy

I wanna make the bed rock
And make you dizzy, dizzy
Creep right up to your spot

So everybody stand up
If you work all day
Maybe you deserve a little time to play
Hands up
We're gonna feel alright
Take your time off tonight
(Take your time off tonight)

'Cause we roll like the sound of thunder
When it's only you and me
(You & me)
And can nobody take us under
'Cause the rest is history
(Rest is history)
So everybody stand up

'Cause we roll like the sound of thunder
When it's only you and me
(You and me)
Hands up
And can nobody take us under
'Cause the rest is history

So everybody stand up
That's right
Hands up
Sing it again
So everybody stand up
If you work all day
Baby, you deserve a little time to play

Hands up
We're gonna feel alright
Take your time off tonight
(Take your time off tonight)

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a59398ff392c18630b41cb4d8ae1454f

Same Ol' Thing - Lyrics - Del The Funky Homosapien

Title: Same Ol' Thing
Artist: Del The Funky Homosapien
Composer(s): Arthur H Neville, Leo Nocentelli, George Porter, Joseph Modeliste, Teren Delvon Jones

Lyric:
The same ol' thing all over the world
The same ol' thing, got to get 'em wit it
The same ol' thing, MCs out there got
The same ol' thing so let me tell ya 'bout it

MCs keep comin' with the same ol' thing
With the same ol' swing, with the same ol' ending
The same ol' climax 'cause many have no vertebrae
Yo but D E L and Hieroglyphics have to murder a

Fraudulent foe real quick and get them off of our dicks
Show the public that they ass ain't slick, they lack skills
And they can only thrill ya by dance steps
I coulda iced Vanilla but I haven't got the chance yet

But that's okay, he was dissed on Soul Train
He got booed because his rhymes are so lame
He ain't the only one, he's far from it
There's more on Earth and they're all gonna plummet

Like falling stars because a brother's in charge
I'ma stomp mud holes in they ass like they was El DeBarge
Then charge to the front of the class
Suckers everywhere like broken glass, yo

But I'ma keep troopin' through the Meadow
With the fellow named X and a pillow
To sock the pussy willows
While I get dough as I grow as a rhymer
And they can keep showin' their teeth like Aunt Jemima

It's the same ol' thing all over the world
The same ol' thing, got to get 'em wit it
The same ol' thing, MCs out there got
The same ol' thing and it's gettin' kinda ancient

The same ol' thing all over the world
The same ol' thing, got to get 'em wit it
The same ol' thing, MCs out there got
The same ol' thing

I'm in your face with force to eliminate monotonous
Braggin' and boastin' so most will end up profitless
'Cause they ain't got a foot to stand on
And I'ma leave the stage bloodier than a Tampon

I can't get no rest because of gamin' little pests
Will step and try to test me with the same ol' thing
I wish it would stop but more than likely it will not
'Cause too many MCs got the same ol' thing

So I change and rearrange rhyme patterns
Keep ya mind scatterin' from the solar system
And I still dissed 'em, the ones with the crumbs on they lips
Talkin' about Sucka MCs that don't exist

And I get the gist so don't play me like a imbecile
Thinkin' that ya large but ya small as a thimble
Plus, I get mental over funky tracks
And ya still talkin' Sucka MCs? That shit is wack

If I ever dissed an MC, it was one with a name
So don't tell me, he was one in the same
Because I know better, I flow better than the average Joe
I use my Nubian stick to overthrow

That same ol' thing all over the world
The same ol' thing, got to get 'em wit it
The same ol' thing, MCs out there got
The same ol' thing and it's gettin' kinda ancient

The same ol' thing all over the world
The same ol' thing, got to get 'em wit it
The same ol' thing, MCs out there got
The same ol' thing

MCs out there, got the same ol' thing
Got the same ol' game
And trip, some got the same ol' name

Like Rockmaster this Mighty Kingathat
Who died and left you the Wolfman, Jack?
But the Boogiemen are irregular
Spectacular, 'Dracula' and plus we're gettin' clever

I never had the urge to add a tag to my title
And I won't add a 'rah' or a 'huh' at the end of my recital
Hip hop hibbit, I never say a rhyme like that
'Cause I can take my time and give it
Thought so I went and bought a pen and pad
Now I'm makin' MCs real mad

Like Young MC goin' out like Sugar Hill
Add a new beat, new rhyme, bogus still
And even if we are in the same gang
It ain't no need for all MCs to have

The same ol' thing all over the world
The same ol' thing, got to get 'em wit it
The same ol' thing, MCs out there got
The same ol' thing and it's gettin' mighty ancient

The same ol' thing all over the world
The same ol' thing, got to get 'em wit it
The same ol' thing, MCs out there got
The same ol' thing

The same ol' thing all over the world
The same ol' thing
The same ol' thing all over the world
The same ol' thing

The same ol' thing all over the world
The same ol' thing
The same ol' thing all over the world
The same ol' thing

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ab642a157c6bf0564159ee1339fe6e9e

Street Shit - Lyrics - Anarchy - Busta Rhymes

Title: Street Shit
Album: Anarchy
Artist: Busta Rhymes
Composer(s): E Papathanassiou, J Yancey, J Smith, Trevor Smith

Lyric:
Yeah, this one appears to be very forceful
Very forceful yeah, here we go now

Niggaz, bitches, where you at talk
Thug niggaz let me see y'all, yeah
Hah, before we slap niggaz silly with somethin'
And put you out your misery and your sufferin'
Oh oh, yeah, and just for frontin'
You got me bustin' two nines
With one hand tied together or somethin'
Ain't no mistakin' we takin' your trap
In case you niggaz didn't know
You fuckin' with the gladiators of rap
On some John Reno shit in professional
How we accurate and precise when we bust
And every move is intentional
Violate and I will get at yo' ass
And if I can't catch you track star
We'll start throwin' shit at yo' ass
Wait a minute nigga, hold up a second
See you'se a bitch and while we bust yo' ass
Yo' faggot peoples ain't even checkin'
Yo y'all need to send the coroner, shit
Leave you lookin' out a place
Like you'se a tourist on some foreigner shit
(Yea)
I be that nigga and I love to experiment
With specific high explosives
Just to take y'all niggaz out of this element, now

'Cause we got new shit for y'all
All my niggaz in the spots
Y'all know we tear the shit down and how we hold it nigga
And we come to take shit over y'all
Yes we here to regulate
And put our foot down, the shop is closin' nigga
Always rep the street for all y'all
Constantly hittin' y'all off with street shit
And keep y'all niggaz open, yeah
All my niggaz, all my bitches
Whatcha'all gon' do now
(Hah)
Every time we come with that street shit
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)

Yeah, we move like stone faced cold hearted niggaz
Baldfaced straight retarded niggaz
Aiyyo the shit we do be so off the hook
Fuck around and get yo' leg broken
Beat all in yo' face with ya foot
We here to stay, fuck payin' a visit
I only fuck with certain live niggaz
Like my niggaz Tash and Xzibit

Ever since I vowed to keep the shit raw
I stay hittin' niggaz with shit
That'll leave they fuckin' face on the floor
Every time niggaz know when we black
Smack a nigga so fuckin' hard
He'll fall and probably spin on his back
Funny how niggaz'll always shit talk
The very next day they will notice the difference
In the way they bitch walk
My street niggaz need to come for the ride
Cause when we step up in the place
You funny niggaz need to slide to the side
I love to watch these funny niggaz diminish
And while we slowly murder them niggaz
They prayin' on the moment we finish
I take you back to the very beginnin'
And beat you in yo' head from birth
And watch you grow lovin' the shit we be bringin'
Street niggaz keep they mind on they dream
Focus the most on gettin' they paper
And be thoroughly reppin' they team
You know we quick to mash it down for some hours
Quick to leave some of these niggaz shook
Runnin' with the rest of them cowards
(Yea)
And leave the rest of niggaz ready to dumb
And rep the street until we all die
Could give a fuck wherever you from, now

'Cause we got new shit for y'all
All my niggaz in the spots
Y'all know we tear the shit down and how we hold it nigga
And we come to take shit over y'all
Just because you regulate
And put our foot down, the shop is closin' nigga
Always rep the street for all y'all
Constantly hittin' y'all off with street shit
And keep y'all niggaz open, now
All my niggaz, all my bitches
Whatcha'all gon' do now
(Hah)
Every time we come with that street shit
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)

For all my motherfuckers
That live in the urban city areas
Only the urban city areas
The ghettos
The neighborhoods where they got, delis, liquor stores
And churches right across the streets from alla that
Yea
Motherfuckers sellin' weed, crack, and all of that shit
On the corner, it ain't the right thing to do
But niggaz is put in the motherfuckin', livin' conditions
They have to do that shit
The street motherfuckers
All y'all survival of the fittest motherfuckers, survive
This is dedicated to y'all
Street shit

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92aa11d51f43a643e3c2e10849ad716e

Georgia - Lyrics - Light Poles and Pine Trees - Field Mob

Title: Georgia
Album: Light Poles and Pine Trees
Artist: Field Mob
Composer(s): Darion T. Crawford, Christopher Bria Bridges, Shawn Johnson, Hoagy Carmichael, Stuart Gorrell, Matthew Mcallister

Lyric:
Georgia, Georgia
Georgia, Georgia

We on the grind in, Georgia
All the time, it ain't
Nothin' on my mind but, Georgia
We ain't playin' witcha

We on the grind in, Georgia
All the time, it ain't
Nothin' on my mind but, Georgia
We ain't playin' witcha

Country name, country slang, fiends at the liquor store
Lac Cruisin', crap Shootin', 50 on the 10 to 4
Overcast the forecast shows clouds from plenty dro
And we ready for war in the state of, Georgia

Dirty words, dirty Birds, it's mean in this dirty south
You ever disrespect it, and we'll clean out your dirty mouth.
Bulldawgs is clockin' these look out boys is hawkin'
You gotta be brave in the state of, Georgia

I got 5 Georgia homes where I rest my Georgia bones
Come anywhere on my land and I'll aim at your Georgia dome
If you get in an altercation just hop on your mobile phone
And tell somebody you need help in the middle of, Georgia

We some ATL thrashers, scope your pumpkin and smash ya
We'll come through your hood worse than a tsunami disaster
Don't know who they gonna get or who them robbers gonna hit
That's why I keep my Georgia Tech in the state of, Georgia

We on the grind in, Georgia
All the time, it ain't
Nothin' on my mind but, Georgia
We ain't playin' witcha

We on the grind in, Georgia
All the time, it ain't
Nothin' on my mind but, Georgia
We ain't playin' witcha

I'm from the home of the neck bones
Black Eyed Peas, turnip and Collard Greens
We the children on the corn dirtier than Bob Marley's pee pee
GA, the peach state, where we stay
My small city's called Albany, Georgia

Pecan country like catfish with grits
Candy yams and chitlins, gram's homemade baked biscuits
The land of classical Caprices and Impala super sports
Ingredients in the peach cobbler called, Georgia

I love the women out in L.A.
And the shopping stores in New York
The beaches in MIA
But they ain't nothin' like that GA red clay

Look on your map, we right above Florida, next to Bama
Under the Carolinas and Tennessee, you'll see, Georgia
Where Gladys Knights and the Midnight Train
The birthplace of Martin Luther King

Where ass so plump and hips are thick
Where Lac trucks sit on 26's
Know where your going or your get lost
Found on these plum trees in the south
These choppas will tomahawk your top down here in, Georgia

We on the grind in, Georgia
All the time, it ain't
Nothin' on my mind but, Georgia
We ain't playin' witcha

We on the grind in, Georgia
All the time, it ain't
Nothin' on my mind but, Georgia
We ain't playin' witcha

Now I was born in the belly of the bottom of the map
Where the wet paint drip jelly on Pirelliz
And the chrome on the Chevy when I'm choppin' in the trap
Country as hell, they some warriors

Told some to spray something the same shape as Florida,
Lookin' for me boy, ya find me
Out of Dougherty County in a small city called Albany, Georgia
Where they use to call us some bamas

And now they jockin' the grammar
Watch yo mouth unless you out for some manner
Bunch of hustlers run on every corner like the Waffle house in Atlanta
R.I.P camoflauge out in Savannah, Georgia

Now you might come for vacation, leave on probation
Home of the strip club, known for the thick girls
Where the chicks put tips in the tip cup
Of thick chick in a thong with a big butt

When it gettin' on, won't be cheap when it on like Peachtree
Make a chick take it off like freaknik, down here in, Georgia
When you see them confederate flags, you know what it is
Your folks picked cotton here, that why we call it, "The Field"
I got a Chevrolet on 26's, I'm from GA, GA, Georgia

We on the grind in, Georgia
All the time, it ain't
Nothin' on my mind but, Georgia
We ain't playin' witcha

We on the grind in, Georgia
All the time, it ain't
Nothin' on my mind but, Georgia
We ain't playin' witcha

Georgia, Georgia
Georgia, Georgia
Georgia

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c0de9f6e6dd7967a8f3b65e62921a5e6

Georgia - Lyrics - Ludacris

Title: Georgia
Artist: Ludacris
Composer(s): Darion T. Crawford, Christopher Bria Bridges, Shawn Johnson, Hoagy Carmichael, Stuart Gorrell, Matthew Mcallister

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

Lyric:
Georgia, Georgia
Georgia, Georgia

We on the grind in Georgia
All the time, it ain't
Nothin' on my mind but Georgia
We ain't playin' witcha

We on the grind in Georgia
All the time, it ain't
Nothin' on my mind but Georgia
We ain't playin' witcha

Country name, country slang
Fiends at the liquor store
Lac Cruisin', crap shootin'
50 on the 10 to 4, overcast the forecast
Shows clouds from plenty dro
And we ready for war in the state of Georgia

Dirty words, dirty birds
It's mean in this dirty south
You ever disrespect it
And we'll clean out your dirty mouth

Bulldawgs is clockin', these look out boys is hawkin'
You gotta be brave in the state of Georgia
I got 5 Georgia homes where I rest my Georgia bones
Come anywhere on my land and I'll aim at your Georgia dome
If you get in an altercation just hop on your mobile phone
And tell somebody you need help in the middle of Georgia

We some ATL thrashers, scope your pumpkin' and smash ya
We'll come through your hood worse than a tsunami disaster
Don't know who they gonna get or who them robbers gonna hit
That's why I keep my Georgia Tech in the state of Georgia

We on the grind in Georgia
All the time, it ain't
Nothin' on my mind but Georgia
We ain't playin' witcha

We on the grind in Georgia
All the time, it ain't
Nothin' on my mind but Georgia
We ain't playin' witcha

I'm from the home of the neck bones
Black eyed peas, turnip and collard greens
We the children on the corn
Dirtier than Bob Marley's pee pee

GA, the peach state, where we stay
My small city's called Albany Georgia
Pecan country like catfish with grits
Candy yams and chitlins
Gram's homemade baked biscuits

The land of classical Caprices and Impala super sports
Ingredients in the peach cobbler called Georgia
I love the women out in L.A.
And the shopping stores in New York
The beaches in MIA
But they ain't nothin' like that GA red clay

Look on your map, we right above Florida, next to Bama
Under the Carolinas and Tennesse, you'll see Georgia
Where Gladys Knights and the Midnight Train
The birthplace of Martin Luther King

Where ass so plump and hips are thick
Where Lac trucks sit on 26's
Know where your going or your get lost
Found on these plum trees in the south
These choppas will tomahawk your top down here in Georgia

We on the grind in Georgia
All the time, it ain't
Nothin' on my mind but Georgia
We ain't playin' witcha

We on the grind in Georgia
All the time, it ain't
Nothin' on my mind but Georgia
We ain't playin' witcha

Now I was born in the belly of the bottom of the map
Where the wet paint drip jelly on pirelliz
And the chrome on the Chevy when I'm choppin in the trap

Country as hell, they some warriors
Told some to spray something the same shape as Florida
Lookin' for me boy, ya find me, out of Dougherty County
In a small city called Albany Georgia

Where they use to call us some bamas
And now they jockin' the grammar
Watch yo mouth unless you out for some manner
Bunch of hustlers run on every corner
Like the Waffle house in Atlanta

R.I.P Camoflauge out in Savannah Georgia
Now you might come for vacation
Leave on probation, home of the strip club
Known for the thick girls
Where the chicks put tips in the tip cup
Of thick chick in a thong with a big butt

When it gettin' on, won't be cheap when it on like Peachtree
Make a chick take it off like freaknik, down here in Georgia
When you see them confederate flags, you know what it is
Your folks picked cotton here, that why we call it 'the field'
I got a Chevrolet on 26's, I'm from GA, GA, Georgia

We on the grind in Georgia
All the time, it ain't
Nothin' on my mind but Georgia
We ain't playin' witcha

We on the grind in Georgia
All the time, it ain't
Nothin' on my mind but Georgia
We ain't playin' witcha

Georgia, Georgia
Georgia, Georgia

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da63d1afa230935282db76ceef0df42d

Pussy Crook - Lyrics - Tarantula - Mystikal

Title: Pussy Crook
Album: Tarantula
Artist: Mystikal
Composer(s): Chad Hugo, Craig Lawson, Michael Tyler, Pharrell Williams

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

Lyric:
Callin' all cars, callin' all cars
Be on the look out for a pussy vandalism, over
A pussy bandit
Suspect is known in many states for dickin' yo woman, over
He is dangerous, be on the look out

I knock the muthafuckin' pussy off the hook
Huh, I take the face off the rapper fuckin' with the punch master
The tight line sharp shooter, the handsome assassin 'cause word expert
You don't know nothing bout this come on mama and get you
Something braid it up pimpin', I make a shy cryin' bitch start swimming
Take it off put cha legs up, see if I can touch the kitty

Fuck it fuck it suck it, 200 dollars, bitch that ain't nothing
Show me what cha working wit' but if ya pussy smellin' shrimpy ho
Get yo fuckin' shirt and shit somebody better stop her
She runnin' round this bitch ha pussy smellin' like red lobster
That's the type of bitch ya don't touch
Some hoes you can look at but the rest don't fuck

Dick don't fail me now
I knock the coochie lining out
If I hit it one time ya hooked
They call me the Pussy Crook

Dick don't fail me now
I knock the coochie lining out
If I hit it one time ya hooked
They call me the Pussy Crook

Somebody tell me the woman complaining talking bout I'm too sexual
But leave me alone with her, betcha I could sex the hoe
Fuck you like I ate my vegetables knock it down for an hour and a half
And still got dick left the door the man right chea
Fuck you on the floor and still shake the chandelier
I got it caught again somewhere
Stop that fuckin' runnin' and bring that ass over here

Bitch touch yo toes touch that wall work that pole
What you doin' after 2 am, in the hotel gotta give ya whatcha came for
Waste hittin' wash it off then face hittin' manojetwas I stay getting
If you can't work it then don't flirt you got them little bitty titties
Don't raise yo shirt I sort 'em out and some ain't stayin'
Take them fuckin' thongs off don't here wit' no plan I cut cha up
When I'm climmin' on ya throw it at cha like I'm a phenomenon

Dick don't fail me now
I knock the coochie lining out
If I hit it one time ya hooked
They call me the Pussy Crook

Dick don't fail me now
I knock the coochie lining out
If I hit it one time ya hooked
They call me the Pussy Crook

What the fuck you mean yo period done you can't gimme no lovin'?
Shit, it's time for funky fire boo hole pluggin'
She said, "I never done that stuff"
I said, "Well let me talk you through it, get the KY jelly"
Put a hump in yo back baby quit movin' yo leg
Get loose and relax lady she was actin' all timid
But the next thing you know she was humpin' back wit me
I was all the way up in that ass I was hard like a horse
She still wanted to do it fast, 2 hours and no part
Still talking bout, "Don't stop oh Lord"

Dick don't fail me now
I knock the coochie lining out
If I hit it one time ya hooked
They call me the Pussy Crook

Dick don't fail me now
I knock the coochie lining out
If I hit it one time ya hooked
They call me the Pussy Crook

Dick don't fail me now
I knock the coochie lining out
If I hit it one time ya hooked
They call me the Pussy Crook

Dick don't fail me now
I knock the coochie lining out
If I hit it one time ya hooked
They call me the Pussy Crook

Callin' all cars, callin' all cars, suspect last seen
Headed East I 10 toward New Orleans, over
Be advised he is armed with dick, and striking good looks, over
Suspect is in a big truck excursion or Escalade
Or some shit he is in a big truck, over
Be on the look out leave all pussy inside

Gimmie this motherfuckin' money
Y'all motherfuckers ain't go never catch me motherfucker
The only thing y'all gone catch is this dick, you motherfucker
This a motherfuckin' nother KLC Smash, you motherfucker
Mystikal, Medicine Man, Big Truck nigga, over

Play the MP3 online for free!

ad244d9238871737d1a8136a7374f790

Beef - Lyrics - Pete Rock

Title: Beef
Artist: Pete Rock
Composer(s): Pete Phillips, Sharief Haqquani

Lyric:
Y'all don't want, beef
No y'all don't want, that
Get caught up in these streets
Get shot up by them heats

Y'all don't want, beef
No y'all don't want, that
Get caught up in these streets
Get shot up by them heats

Word to my cousin, the truth and no lie
Me and my dawg was in his brand new Land, puffin' on lye
Tameka came by, glossy-eyed as she cried
Lil' Jay got sprayed with a chrome four-five

That's my motherfuckin' man, get in the Land
Head to the rest, grab vests, switch whips to the Caravan
I heard an ambulance right up the block
Plus more shots, the shit's gettin' hot, pull up and park

By the back, pass the gat, hit the lights and lay back
Hold up, now roll up, yo where them niggaz at?
I know one of them cats from the projects with Jay
The first nigga move, I'ma pull this gun, spray

No delay, we stay night to fuckin' dawn
It's on, my head spinnin', feelin' my cheeks get warm
Tears drip as I stepped out the whip
Slipped a clip, had to get hit, uh-uh that's that bullshit

Y'all don't want beef
No y'all don't want that
Get caught up in these streets
Get shot up by them heats

Y'all don't want beef
No y'all don't want that
Get caught up in these streets
Get shot up by them heats

Yo, I can't believe my man since 3rd grade got sprayed
Bullet laced as he laid, chokin' up blood with no aid
Made money for the purpose of his daughter
Victim of an unmerciful slaughter, explain harder

Or don't bother, I'ma heat yo' ass like lava
Identified was that tinted gray Chevy Impala
Fleein' the scene, as the back tires screamed
Now for them my man [Incomprehensible], ruined his whole dream

Of playin' ball pro, bitch that's how it go
You let me know, I'll hit your whole fuckin' team with the metal
Mental struggle got my hand under the bubble
Tryin' to blow steam and leave the scene blood puddles

Snakes, whattup nigga? These niggaz ain't explainin'
Well, fuck it then, it's time for some gestratin'
Hit him in the worthless shell he came in
Murder is a sin, but it's worse him dyin' on revenge and I ain't havin' it

Y'all don't want beef
No y'all don't want that
Get caught up in these streets
Get shot up by them heats

Y'all don't want beef
No y'all don't want that
Get caught up in these streets
Get shot up by them heats

I ain't havin' it, reached in the bubble and grabbed it
Automatic cocked back and squeezed through his Polo fabric
Nigga duckin' and runnin', irrationally gunnin'
Thinkin' to myself, do I gotta hit someone

Then I heard shots from a back route
Fired back out, got shot, dropped and blacked out
Put in a clap out, didn't map out or act out the plans
Now I'm consciously layin' while bullets is sprayin' the Caravan

We can't lose, I hear shotguns then 22's
Left arm booze, or blood soaked through my Adidas shoes
Heavy breathin', a lot of bleedin'
Bitches screamin', put over on my good shoulder, started squeezin'

Out the back window, she gave the wrong info
Suddenly crashed into a Pinto
Hopped out, flew through the back yard, word to God
It's on and I felt the gat slip through my palm

Kept runnin', hopped the fence, hopin' that I didn't leave prints
Spotted a black Ac' parked with dark tints
Broke the passenger's side, hotwired the wide and slide
Another unsolved homicide

Y'all don't want beef
No y'all don't want that
Get caught up in these streets
Get shot up by them heats

Y'all don't want beef
No y'all don't want that
Get caught up in these streets
Get shot up by them heats

Play the MP3 online for free!

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