All Eyez On Me - Lyrics - All Eyez On Me - 2pac

Title: All Eyez On Me
Album: All Eyez On Me
Artist: 2pac
Composer(s): Tyruss Himes, Johnny Jackson, Tupac Shakur, James Pennington

Lyric:
Big Syke, Newt, Hank
Beugard, Big Sur
(Yeah)
Y'all know how this shit go
(Y'know)
(All eyez on me)

Motherfuckin' O.G.
Roll up in the club and shit
(Is that right?)
(All eyez on me)
(All eyez on me)
But you know what?

I bet you got it twisted you don't know who to trust
So many playa hating niggaz tryin' to sound like us
Say they ready for the funk, but I don't think they knowin'
Straight to the depths of hell is where those cowards goin'

Well are you still down nigga? Holla when you see me
And let these devils be sorry for the day they finally freed me
I got a caravan of niggaz every time we ride
Hittin' motherfuckers up when we pass by

Until I die, live the life of a boss playa
'Cause even when I'm high, fuck with me and get crossed later
The futures in my eyes, 'cause all I want is cash and thangs
A five-double-o, Benz flauntin' flashy rings, uhh

Bitches pursue me like a dream
Been know to disappear before your eyes just like a dope fiend
It seems my main thang was to be major paid
The game sharper than a motherfuckin' razor blade

Say money bring bitches, bitches bring lies
One nigga's gettin' jealous, and motherfuckers died
Depend on me like the first and fifteenth
They might hold me for a second, but these punks won't get me
We got foe niggaz, and low riders, in ski masks
Screamin' thug life every time they pass

(All eyez on me)
Live the life of a thug nigga, until the day I die
Live the life of a boss playa, 'cause even gettin' high
(All eyez on me)

(All eyez on me)
Live the life of a thug nigga, until the day I die
Live the life of a boss playa, 'cause even gettin' high

Hey, to my nigga Pac
So much trouble in the world, nigga, can't nobody feel your pain
The world's changin' everyday, time's moving fast
My girl said I need a raise, how long will she last?
I'm caught between my woman, and my pistol, and my chips
Triple beam, got some smokers on, whistle as I dip

I'm lost in the land with no plan, livin' life flawless
Crime boss, contraband, let me toss this
Needy hookers got a lot of nerve, let my bucket swerve
I'm takin' off from the curb

The nervousness neglect make me pack a tec
Devoted to servin' this, Moet and pay-checks
Like Akai satellite nigga I'm forever ballin'
It ain't right parasites triggers and fleas crawlin'

Sucker duck and get busted, no emotion
My devotion is handlin' my business nigga keep on coastin'
Where you goin I been there came back as lonely homie
Steady flowin' against the grain niggaz still don't know me

It's about the money in this rap shit, this crap shit
It ain't funny niggaz don't even know how to act shit
What can I do, what can I say, is there another way?
Blunts and gin all day, twenty-fo' parlay
My little homie G, can't you see, I'm busta free?
Niggaz can't stand me

(All eyez on me)
Live the life of a thug nigga, until the day I die
Live the life of a boss playa, 'cause even gettin' high
(All eyez on me)

(All eyez on me)
Live the life of a thug nigga, until the day I die
Live the life of a boss playa, 'cause even gettin' high
(All eyez on me)

The feds is watchin', niggaz plottin' to get me
Will I survive, will I die? Come on let's picture the possibility
Givin' me charges, lawyers makin' a grip
I told the judge I was raised wrong, and that's why I blaze shit

Was hyper as a kid, cold as a teenager
On my mobile callin' big shots on the scene major
Packing hundreds in my drawers, fuck the law
Bitches I fuck with a passion, I'm livin' rough and raw

Catchin' cases at a fast rate, ballin' in the fast lane
Hustle 'til the mornin', never stopped until the cash came
Live my life as a thug nigga, until the day I die
Live my life as a boss playa, 'cause even gettin' high

These niggaz got me tossin' shit
I put the top down, now it's time to floss my shit
Keep your head up nigga, make these motherfuckers suffer
Up in the Benz burnin' rubber

The money is mandatory, the hoes is fully strapped
This criminal lifestyle, equipped with the bulletproof vest
Make sure your eyes is on the meal ticket
Get your money motherfucker let's get rich and we'll kick it

(All eyez on me)
Live the life of a thug nigga, until the day I die
Live the life of a boss playa, 'cause even gettin' high
(All eyez on me)

(All eyez on me)
Live the life of a thug nigga, until the day I die
Live the life of a boss playa, 'cause even gettin' high
(All eyez on me)
(All eyez on me)

Pay attention my niggaz
See how that shit go?
Nigga walk up in this motherfucker
And it be like bing

(Cops, bitches, every motherfuckin' body)
Live my life as a thug nigga, until the day I die
Live my life as a boss playa, 'cause even gettin' high

(I got bustas hoes and police watchin' a nigga y'know?)
I live my life as a thug nigga, until the day I die
Livin' life as a boss playa, 'cause even gettin' high
(All eyez on me)

It's like what they think?
I'm walkin' around with some ki's in my pocket or somethin'?
(All eyez on me)
They think I'm goin back to jail, they really on that dope
Live my life as a thug nigga, until the day I die
Live my life as a boss playa

(I know y'all watchin', I know y'all got me in the scopes)
Live my life as a thug nigga, until the day I die
Live my life as a boss playa, 'cause even gettin' high
I know y'all know this is Thug Life bay-bay
Y'all got me under surveillance huh?
(All eyez on me)
But I'm knowin'

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d18801e6101118510b5cd869a5d9766f

Real Niggaz - Lyrics - Mobb Deep

Title: Real Niggaz
Artist: Mobb Deep
Composer(s): Thomas Dolby, Red Spyda, Albert Johnson, Joe Kerr, Kejuan Waliek Muchita

Lyric:
Yeah, y'all know what it is
Infamous has just entered the building
Yeah, yeah, mama
Keep doing that just like that I like that
But you got one problem
You hanging with some real clowns over there
They some real clown killers
Shooting off in the air like that
Aye, yo, son where my real thugs n' them at

If you live nigga then you bussin' your hammer
All my real niggaz not havin' to stand up
Niggaz better run or you'll be pickin' your man up
Clappin' at whoever I ain't even in handcuffs

If you live nigga then you bussin' your hammer
All my real niggaz not havin' to stand up
Niggaz better run or you'll be pickin' your man up
Clappin' at whoever I ain't even in handcuffs

One hammer, two hammer, three hammers, four
H got drama with you I'm bringin' it to your door
We get money on tours cuffin' them broads
While we sluttin' them all then passin' them off

Peelin' off in that Bentley Coupe
Got ma wettin' them draws
You know I keeps them in that birthday suit
She know once that she up in that ride

And we get pulled, the hammers goin' in between her thighs
Need a chick got to explain a thing
She hip to it the games in her blood
And down for the grind till the death rep MOBB

You a problem with it then you know where to reach me
I give them the business, no mirrors or smoke screens
Either you live it you live it or you just frontin'
This rap shit for life, P thats my CoD
We go back like staircases and OE, stop playin'

If you live nigga then you bussin' your hammer
All my real niggaz not havin' to stand up
Niggaz better run or you'll be pickin' your man up
Clappin' at whoever I ain't even in handcuffs

If you live nigga then you bussin' your hammer
All my real niggaz not havin' to stand up
Niggaz better run or you'll be pickin' your man up
Clappin' at whoever I ain't even in handcuffs

Nigga you thought wrong, now look at you now
Look like sandwich meat with the ketchup sauce
But you was just hollerin' about
Infamous this infamous that

Your mouth was going off
Meanwhile we counts money piles
Till our fingertips green and them shits is sore
But we prefer plastic now

It's nothin' like when its your tour stackin' cash on the floor
Saran wrap to the top jumpoffs won't fall down
It's not my cash your bitch love, it's how I kill it on the song
And she get a taste of the dick, she open now

It's shiny like a door and I don't pay the bitch no thought
I got alot of gall that's what the bitch haal
While I'm leavin' her sight my heart is real cold, real hard on a hoe
But much much harder for the dough
It be a bloody slaughter when we through

If you live nigga then you bussin' your hammer
All my real niggaz not havin' to stand up
Niggaz better run or you'll be pickin' your man up
Clappin' at whoever I ain't even in handcuffs

If you live nigga then you bussin' your hammer
All my real niggaz not havin' to stand up
Niggaz better run or you'll be pickin' your man up
Clappin' at whoever I ain't even in handcuffs

So don't get mad 'cuz your hoe probably suckin' the kid
Attracted to the lifestyle of how us gangsters live
Teach her all about life and the bees and birds
And how I shut that shit down when the beef occurs

And how I stick, and I move all you see is a blur
Yo I'm a cool ass dude until you push me sir
And can't nobody squash this beef
You get it on with us then you up shits creek, queens clique

Don't have me puttin' these bullets all in your ass
Your era is done and your time is passed
We better and these is the simple facts
You real rusty, my niggaz is built to last

And it's on, we runnin' around with our guns
Jewelery fit for pharaohs around our necks dun
In O four our thuns get the O six trucks
Oh, Lord, there is no savin' us

If you live nigga then you bussin' your hammer
All my real niggaz not havin' to stand up
Niggaz better run or you'll be pickin' your man up
Clappin' at whoever I ain't even in handcuffs

If you live nigga then you bussin' your hammer
All my real niggaz not havin' to stand up
Niggaz better run or you'll be pickin' your man up
Clappin' at whoever I ain't even in handcuffs

I never leave without the thing
Infamous know how we bang
I never leave without the thing
Infamous know how we bang

I never leave without the thing
Infamous know how we bang
I never leave without the thing
Infamous know how we bang
Hit it

I never leave without the thing
Infamous know how we bang
I never leave without the thing
Infamous know how we bang

I never leave without the thing
Infamous know how we bang
I never leave without the thing
Infamous know how we bang
Hit it

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815fb376ec1588a3d5beef14ab4f2b32

Real N***Az - Lyrics - Amerikaz Nightmare - Mobb Deep

Title: Real N***Az
Album: Amerikaz Nightmare
Artist: Mobb Deep
Composer(s): Thomas Dolby, Red Spyda, Albert Johnson, Joe Kerr, Kejuan Waliek Muchita

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

Lyric:
Yeah, y'all know what it is
Infamous has just entered the building
Yeah, yeah, mama
Keep doing that just like that I like that
But you got one problem
You hanging with some real clowns over there
They some real clown killers
Shooting off in the air like that
Aye, yo, son where my real thugs n' them at

If you live nigga then you bussin' your hammer
All my real niggaz not havin' to stand up
Niggaz better run or you'll be pickin' your man up
Clappin' at whoever I ain't even in handcuffs

If you live nigga then you bussin' your hammer
All my real niggaz not havin' to stand up
Niggaz better run or you'll be pickin' your man up
Clappin' at whoever I ain't even in handcuffs

One hammer, two hammer, three hammers, four
H got drama with you I'm bringin' it to your door
We get money on tours cuffin' them broads
While we sluttin' them all then passin' them off

Peelin' off in that Bentley Coupe
Got ma wettin' them draws
You know I keeps them in that birthday suit
She know once that she up in that ride

And we get pulled, the hammers goin' in between her thighs
Need a chick got to explain a thing
She hip to it the games in her blood
And down for the grind till the death rep MOBB

You a problem with it then you know where to reach me
I give them the business, no mirrors or smoke screens
Either you live it you live it or you just frontin'
This rap shit for life, P thats my CoD
We go back like staircases and OE, stop playin'

If you live nigga then you bussin' your hammer
All my real niggaz not havin' to stand up
Niggaz better run or you'll be pickin' your man up
Clappin' at whoever I ain't even in handcuffs

If you live nigga then you bussin' your hammer
All my real niggaz not havin' to stand up
Niggaz better run or you'll be pickin' your man up
Clappin' at whoever I ain't even in handcuffs

Nigga you thought wrong, now look at you now
Look like sandwich meat with the ketchup sauce
But you was just hollerin' about
Infamous this infamous that

Your mouth was going off
Meanwhile we counts money piles
Till our fingertips green and them shits is sore
But we prefer plastic now

It's nothin' like when its your tour stackin' cash on the floor
Saran wrap to the top jumpoffs won't fall down
It's not my cash your bitch love, it's how I kill it on the song
And she get a taste of the dick, she open now

It's shiny like a door and I don't pay the bitch no thought
I got alot of gall that's what the bitch haal
While I'm leavin' her sight my heart is real cold, real hard on a hoe
But much much harder for the dough
It be a bloody slaughter when we through

If you live nigga then you bussin' your hammer
All my real niggaz not havin' to stand up
Niggaz better run or you'll be pickin' your man up
Clappin' at whoever I ain't even in handcuffs

If you live nigga then you bussin' your hammer
All my real niggaz not havin' to stand up
Niggaz better run or you'll be pickin' your man up
Clappin' at whoever I ain't even in handcuffs

So don't get mad 'cuz your hoe probably suckin' the kid
Attracted to the lifestyle of how us gangsters live
Teach her all about life and the bees and birds
And how I shut that shit down when the beef occurs

And how I stick, and I move all you see is a blur
Yo I'm a cool ass dude until you push me sir
And can't nobody squash this beef
You get it on with us then you up shits creek, queens clique

Don't have me puttin' these bullets all in your ass
Your era is done and your time is passed
We better and these is the simple facts
You real rusty, my niggaz is built to last

And it's on, we runnin' around with our guns
Jewelery fit for pharaohs around our necks dun
In O four our thuns get the O six trucks
Oh, Lord, there is no savin' us

If you live nigga then you bussin' your hammer
All my real niggaz not havin' to stand up
Niggaz better run or you'll be pickin' your man up
Clappin' at whoever I ain't even in handcuffs

If you live nigga then you bussin' your hammer
All my real niggaz not havin' to stand up
Niggaz better run or you'll be pickin' your man up
Clappin' at whoever I ain't even in handcuffs

I never leave without the thing
Infamous know how we bang
I never leave without the thing
Infamous know how we bang

I never leave without the thing
Infamous know how we bang
I never leave without the thing
Infamous know how we bang
Hit it

I never leave without the thing
Infamous know how we bang
I never leave without the thing
Infamous know how we bang

I never leave without the thing
Infamous know how we bang
I never leave without the thing
Infamous know how we bang
Hit it

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9fe2f5d95cf7b23574f2463b5937d20c

Live Or Die - Lyrics - Naughty By Nature

Title: Live Or Die
Artist: Naughty By Nature
Composer(s): Keir Gist, Donald Fagen, Vincent Vinnie Brown, Anthony Criss, Vyshonker Miller, Walter Becker, Michael L. Tyler

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

Lyric:
Unh, hehe, Master P and Treach, nigga
It's all family, baby, get them Naughty boys
I got the No Limit Soldiers and when we posse up
These niggaz gon' pay us

I thought I told you, have my money
(Whatcha wan' do, nigga?)
You got until sunrise or lose your life
(Whatcha gon' do, nigga?)

We comin' with them thangs and we ready to ride
(Where they at? Let's get 'em)
Are you ready to die?
(Live or die, live or die, live or die)
(Where they at? Let's get 'em)

Get a little bit of taste of the bass to the face
In the place for anybody not payin' on time
Rather be up in a six foot cell
Before I let another nigga get flagrant with mine

And we be takin' all cash, no checks, so go cancel this
I know niggaz are so scandalous
The ones I bust I'ma show 'em nuff crugs on how many people
Thinkin' that they can stand with this, sheeyit

I thought somebody told you, boy
Them Naughty niggaz ain't no toys
You're fuckin' with sixteen styles over sixteen bars
Sixteen car, man entourage

And when we get things started, I'm the hardest artist
Styles I flips retarded
Family who can handle this
From Illtown to S.E. to Los Angeles

I thought I told you, have my money
(Whatcha wan' do, nigga?)
You got until sunrise or lose your life
(Whatcha gon' do, nigga?)

We comin' with them thangs and we ready to ride
(Where they at? Let's get 'em)
Are you ready to die?
(Live or die, live or die, live or die)
(Where they at? Let's get 'em)

Hear the tale of the n'Illtown O.G., better know me
Shape the gold teeth, CD be, bring the clip shells
And Olde E and gats, so no one gets close to me
And down to scrap, raise 'em from that

True tradition, raise 'em up and gangsta bitches
That'll blaze them butts, don't play for fuck
Now we had a dealer knock off joints, Julie's jackin'
With the drop-off point
(Yo, what the deal, nigga?)

You backed out, I fuckin' witnessed it
And have partners have to split shit with
(Nah, pay me now, bust it)
At sundown see I went on work
I sent a tec mount in a tennis skirt, pop the blood claat

Watch a thug rock, slugs pop
With every cop on the block, with double-eye on my mugshots
He better pay me like he postin' bail
Or send his hand with no nails to his mom in the mail

I thought I told you, have my money
(Whatcha wan' do, nigga?)
You got until sunrise or lose your life
(Whatcha gon' do, nigga?)

We comin' with them thangs and we ready to ride
(Where they at? Let's get 'em)
Are you ready to die?
(Live or die, live or die, live or die)
(Where they at? Let's get 'em)

Gotta nab but I'm back
Now give me all my props again
I gotta kick your motherfuckin' ass for steppin' on my mocassins
We blended with Treach and Vinnie from Naughty By Nature

It's Mystikal with Silk the Shocker and nem
No Limit Lieutenant is at it again
Catch me in the studio, tappin' in from it, actin' bad with a pen
No blackin', no ant draggin', no babblin'

I'm grabbin' the mic in the booth when they peak
I'ma gon' get me started wrestlin'
Turnin' and tusslin', clutchin' and musclin'
I saw myself the demons when I'm bustin' them
If you wanna live you wouldn't fuck with them, don't fuck with them

Ha, hah, don't fuck with them, look
Nigga, I keep a tight show, Luciano type dough
Feature Al Capone's way out nigga, I got that type of flow
Don't floss if it ain't yours

See we a bunch of feature artists, y'all a bunch of and mores
Get the picture like Van Gogh, plus they done banned our tours
Catch me gettin' my floss on walkin' 'cross marble tan floors
Can't even touch the flow, can't even touch no coat

Bitch, I'm made now, I can't even much touch no mo'
Fuck the whole rap game up, nigga, just one of my lines
Say ya know a nigga like me, you're lyin', bitch
'Cause I'm like one of a kind

From the Jerz to the five, oh, we get down and dirty ya heard
I gotta eat so I gotta go to street, cop two keys and a bird
So y'all better have what you owe me, by sundown
Or else I'ma get Mystikal, Naughty By Nature, my boys and 'nem
We gonna get y'all!

I thought I told you, have my money
(Whatcha wan' do, nigga?)
You got until sunrise or lose your life
(Whatcha gon' do, nigga?)

We comin' with them thangs and we ready to ride
(Where they at? Let's get 'em)
Are you ready to die?
(Live or die, live or die, live or die)
(Where they at? Let's get 'em)

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4365531b582daaee3b651c3db7a2c1b1

Z - What The Game Made Me - Lyrics - Jay

Title: Z - What The Game Made Me
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Todd Gaither, Shawn Carter, Memphis Blea

Lyric:
Yeah

I'm what the game made me
Not what the fame made me
No amount of money can change me
I'm what you lames can't be
Live nigga what? Live as fuck

I'm what the game made me
Not what the fame made me
No amount of money can change me
I'm what you lames can't be
Live nigga what? Live as fuck

Check, live from the 7-1-8
Either respect the flow or learn your lesson from your weight
I'm wishin' arthritis on all writers who, knock my hustle
How can y'all understand the struggle?
It's hard to live, when you got greedy niggaz in the mix
Knowin' I outclass three-E niggaz in the six

So I outblast till it's empty clips
And I outlast niggaz, survival of the fit
One life, I gotta make sure it's done right
'Cause them yet to have a conversation
'Bout reincarnation ball out, until I fall out
Stick thick chicks, try to tear they wall out

Hard to think about your future with, nothin' to gain
Hard to concentrate on school with stomach pain
Life's harsh, I know y'all runnin' from 'caine

But it'll only catch you and track you down
With no deal, who you gonna rap to now?
Start your own record company, that's profound
Live niggaz gonna rumble when you back from the war
Jive niggaz gonna crumble and fall

I'm what the game made me
Not what the fame made me
No amount of money can change me
I'm what you lames can't be
Live nigga what? Live as fuck

Aiyyo, whether in the Pinto, or rollin' in the six
I come through cocky, holdin' my dick
I never switch shit, 'cause that's some bitch shit
I get the Bisquick take it to the district

'Cause I could never get rich and switch my style
I just cop a little hurt to the mercantile
I'm tryin' to get it though, rhymin' with this six digit flow
Gettin' fly is the minimal, holdin' somethin' is the principal

Respect this young nigga that's, holdin' the torch
Preachin' shit like the crack game, don't take shorts
Throw it down it's a bet, nigga roll hard
Till you got somethin' icey, round your neck

In this concrete jungle get rich or remain humble
Never speak the biz, at worst I might mumble
Niggaz test it I spit guns, angrily
Till all that remains is me

I'm what the game made me
Not what the fame made me
No amount of money can change me
I'm what you lames can't be
Live nigga what? Live as fuck

I went from no dough to show dough to money to blow
From umm, hoe I don't know, to get deez
Never, 'Excuse me miss', bitch please, never try to provoke
Same disrespectful cat I was when I was broke

Ain't nuttin' changed baby but the different faces I stop
Or maybe some of the places I shop
Now that I run through tracks like cleets with a Air
For some of the hottest beats, still catch me eatin' at Pete's

Fuck the foul cat who screamed out and threatened my life
It's all good, here I come kid, dead to the hood
Till I'm in the dirt, foul cats like termites
Come out of the woodworks, if they think you stack paper

Dead niggaz react later while the cancer spread
Teach a team how to scheme before they answer lead
You know me, I used to shoot hoops in the park
Ain't nothin' changed except now I push Coupe's in the dark

I'm what the game made me
Not what the fame made me
No amount of money can change me
I'm what you lames can't be
Live nigga what? Live as fuck

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72a6b52af105a8c6ded3edae1f27fa94

Z - Takeover - Lyrics - The Blueprint - Jay

Title: Z - Takeover
Album: The Blueprint
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Robbie Krieger, Lawrence Parker, John Densmore, E. Burdon, Shawn Carter, A. Lomax, Jim Morrison, B. Chandler, Ray Manzarek, Kanye West, Rodney Lemay

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

Lyric:
R.O.C, we runnin' this rap shit
Memphis Bleek, we runnin' this rap shit
B. Mac, we runnin' this rap shit
Freeway, we run this rap shit
O and Sparks, we runnin' this rap shit
Chris and Neef, we runnin' this rap shit

The takeover, the break's over nigga
God MC, me, Jay-Hova
Hey lil' soldier you ain't ready for war
R.O.C too strong for y'all
It's like bringin' a knife to a gunfight, pen to a test
Your chest in the line of fire with ya thin ass vest
You bringin' them Boyz II Men, how them boys gon' win?
This is grown man B.I., get you rolled in the triage

Beatch, your reach ain't long enough, dunny
Your peeps ain't strong enough, fucker
Roc-A-Fella is the army, better yet the navy
Niggaz'll kidnap your babies, spit at your lady
We bring knife to fistfight, kill your drama
Uh, we kill you motherfuckin' ants with a sledgehammer
Don't let me do it to you dunny 'cause I overdo it
So you won't confuse it with just rap music

R.O.C., we runnin' this rap shit
M-Easy, we runnin' this rap shit
The Broad Street Bully, we runnin' this rap shit
Get zipped up in plastic when it happens that's it
Freeway, we runnin' this rap shit
O and Sparks, we runnin' this rap shit
Chris and Neef, we runnin' this rap shit
"Watch out! We run New York"

I don't care if you Mobb Deep, I hold triggers to crews
You little fuck, I've got money stacks bigger than you
When I was pushin' weight, back in eighty-eight
You was a ballerina, I got your pictures I seen ya
Then you dropped "Shook Ones," switch your demeanor
Well, we don't believe you, you need more people
Roc-A-Fella, students of the game, we passed the classes
'Cause nobody could read you dudes like we do

Don't let 'em gas you like Jigga is ass and won't clap you
Trust me on this one, I'll detach you
Mind from spirit, body from soul
They'll have to hold a mass, put your body in a hole
No, you're not on my level get your brakes tweaked
I sold what ya whole album sold in my first week
You guys don't want it with Hov'
Ask Nas, he don't want it with Hov', no!

R.O.C., we runnin' this rap shit
B. Sigel, we runnin' this rap shit
M-Easy, we runnin' this rap shit
Get zipped up in plastic when it happens that's it
O and Sparks, we runnin' this rap shit
Freeway, we runnin' this rap shit
Chris and Neef, we runnin' this rap shit
Watch out! We run New York"

I know you missin' all the fame
But along with celebrity comes 'bout
Seventy shots to your brain, nigga, you are lame
Youse the fag model for Karl Kani-Esco ads
Went from, Nasty Nas to Esco's trash
Had a spark when you started but now you're just garbage
Fell from top ten to not mentioned at all

To your bodyguard's "Oochie Wally" verse better than yours
Matter fact you had the worst flow on the whole fuckin' song
But I know, the sun don't shine, then son don't shine
That's why your lame
Career come to an end, there's only so long fake thugs can pretend
Nigga, you ain't live it you witnessed it from your folks pad
You scribbled in your notepad and created your life

I showed you your first tec on tour with Large Professor
Then I heard your album bout your tec on your dresser
So yeah I sampled your voice, you was usin' it wrong
You made it a hot line, I made it a hot song
And you ain't get a corn nigga you was gettin' fucked then
I know who I paid God, Serchlite Publishing
Use your brain, you said you been in this ten
I've been in it five, smarten up Nas
Four albums in ten years nigga? I could divide

That's one every let's say two, two of them shits was due
One was nah, the other was "Illmatic"
That's a one hot album every ten year average
And that's so lame, nigga switch up your flow
Your shit is garbage, but you try and kick knowledge?
You niggaz gon' learn to respect the king
Don't be the next contestant on that Summer Jam screen
Because you know who, did you know what? With you know who
But just keep that between me and you for now

R.O.C, we runnin' this rap shit
M-Easy, we runnin' this rap shit
The Broad Street Bully, we runnin' this rap shit
Get zipped up in plastic when it happens that's it
Freeway, we runnin' this rap shit
O and Sparks, we runnin' this rap shit
Chris and Neef, we runnin' this rap shit
Watch out! We run New York"

A wise man told me don't argue with fools
'Cause people from a distance can't tell who is who
So stop with that childish shit, nigga I'm grown
Please leave it alone, don't throw rocks at the throne
Do not bark up that tree, that tree will fall on you
I don't know why your advisers ain't forewarn you
Please, not Jay, he's, not for play
I don't slack a minute, all that thug rappin' and gimmicks

I will end it, all that yappin' be finished
You are not deep, you made your bed now sleep
Don't make me expose to them folks that don't know you
Nigga I know you well, all the stolen jewels
Twinkletoes you breakin' my heart
You can't fuck with me, go play somewhere, I'm busy
And all you other cats throwin' shots at Jigga
You only get half a bar, fuck y'all niggaz

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704eefc2137b3027c37ff861084e0099

Live - Lyrics - First Come First Served - Dr. Dooom

Title: Live
Album: First Come First Served
Artist: Dr. Dooom
Composer(s): Keith Thornton

Lyric:
South Bronx, New York

Is it live, live, live, live, live?
Is it live, live, live, live, live?
Is it live, live, live, live, live?

I heard your CD is wack, wasn't fucking impressed
Who's the nigga with the big mouth?
I live [Incomprehensible] and bit off with a lion's mouth
Your hype man sound like a bitch that switch

Y'all niggas need to be around when my dick itch
Yo, TNT these niggas acting wild like they homo
But they trying to see me fuck it, I'm a pull up in a Ford van
Let these niggas know I'm a give 'em a permanent suntan

Walk in your studio session
Damage your crew in the vocal booth
With a thirty-inch Smith and Wesson
Dr. Dooom on your intercom pressing your girl
All night with a fucking bomb

I'm a move the tattoos off all these MCs
Let me make a sandwich first with government cheese
Uncle Black got a new sawed-off
When them booty kids show up we gone blast their ass off

Niggas be mean mugging wide eyed smoking that dust
I'm a send Tony Lou with a bazooka
Blow smoke in a tour bus, in a yellow Caprice Classic
I got a wig on them, city boys ain't gon' recognize all four of us

Jay and John with fifty cousins from the Bolding family
We roll and amp G, what the fuck y'all talking about?
I'm moving a different route
Grab the carbines from under the couch

See you on the Ferris wheel at Coney Island
I'm not gon' be smiling
Magnum waiting for your ass
Y'all gon' see my face, fuck a mask

Is it live, live, live, live, live?
Is it live, live, live, live, live?
Is it live, live, live, live, live?
Is it live, live, live, live, live?

Smearing your mailbox with peanut butter and jelly
With pickles from the deli
Black shoe polish on your glass table
I'm ready and able

Going on the roof when the pay-per-view fight come on
Click off the cable, harass you to move
Leaving poisoned sick rat coleslaw around your toilet stool
While you scream ''fuck you''

I'm across the street eating Popeye's Cajun rice
In a station wagon with hot beans
Taking a coffee break back in the house

Giving your Chihuahuas
Ex-lax with a hot bowl of Quaker State
Leaving the front room, dropping bombs
On your fur coat with a box kaboom

Watching the Mets putting shit
On your TV sets in the shower
You won't be able to watch a program
With remote controls for seventy hours

Check out your sore ribs, the screen is gritty
Everybody's starting to look green on Rap City
Take your receipt, give your wallet with nine hundred bucks
Or your credit card to a retarded kid in a wheel-chair

Coming up the street walking by the main avenue
I'm passing you with a leather coat that looks similar to yours
Fuck you, you looking at me, I'm a start walking behind you
Act like I'm pantomiming you

Talking to police men, chewing a arm
And joined by a black and white squad car
With binoculars watching you very far
What's up motherfuckers?

Is it live, live, live, live, live?
Is it live, live, live, live, live?
Is it live, live, live, live, live?
Is it live, live, live, live, live?
Is it live, live, live, live, live?

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85c4eda5c4b2ce4b0986860f9f4250e1

Pop U - Lyrics - Reality Check - Juvenile

Title: Pop U
Album: Reality Check
Artist: Juvenile
Composer(s): Joseph Anthony Cartagena, Terius Gray, Christopher Bridges, Mike Dean

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

Lyric:
You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u
You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u

You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u
You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u

Who that nigga is
What that nigga claim
Juve wild magnolia
It's an uptown thing

Soulja watchin' over me
So I'ma let it rain
Just give me the weed, the mic
And I'ma let it off the chain

Y'all actin' like, that nigga lost it, I ain't have no money
Now I'm back, what the cost is
[Incomprehensible] on my wrist lookin' gooey
These ain't Birdman's, these is real Gucci's

Turn around the corner
Motherfucker tryin' to sue me
Talkin' shit to me so I can hit him with a two-piece
We rock, we he roll, where he got control

Me and my mans and them
Get the brains out these hoes
If she can dance, then
She can romance nice and slow

Be in a trance like it was
Your man's pipe in the hole
I've been sippin' a little somethin'
Just stop servin' the game
It feel good to be an OG, I'm deservin' it mayne

I'm the nigga, nigga
The nigga, nigga, the nigga
The nigga, nigga, Ju-a-vey
I'm the nigga, nigga
The nigga, the nigga, nigga
The nigga, nigga, nigga, Ju-a-vey

You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u
You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u

You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u
You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u

Now ain't no tellin' where I might be
'Cause there's a million other creeps
Prancin' around these streets lookin' like me
Call 'em my stunt doubles

So if you think you hit Luda' with the Krueger
I'm up in Cuba blowin' blunt bubbles
On the double, lookin' for trouble we started
The eye on my gat is cocked it's retarded

I'm sippin' lean, smokin' green and I'm so hot
I told machine's people call me 'I Robot'
Bang to the boogey boogey, bang bang
Let my little partner borrow my necklace
And hit bitches with the same chain

Its not computer love, I'm gettin' great brain
Got a hard drive but they blow me out my mainframe

Now how you like that?
I got your momma pitchin' quarters
On the corner gettin' cornered
And come right back

I'm makin' tight stacks so if it ain't Juve or Luda
Then can it nigga, we don't even like rap

I'm the nigga, nigga
The nigga, nigga, the nigga
The nigga, nigga, Ju-a-vey
I'm the nigga, nigga
The nigga, the nigga, nigga
The nigga, nigga, nigga, Ju-a-vey

You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u
You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u

You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u
You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u

Got the Mack in the grass
And the nine in the dumpster
Duck when they pass
One time wanna dump ya'

Hunger, that's what I got in my veins
Take shots from the Henny
Just to straighten my aim

Now, I raise my middle finger, "Fuck the world"
And them donuts in that car better make ya' hurl
Yeah, I'm 'bout my paper mayne
I'm fully loaded like them niggaz in Jamaica mayne

I know you know this is Crack
And he's back and you mad
'Cause we did and they yack-ity yak

In the sack when we slid in
Mommy shakin' they ass
She want some big bills
Tip drill, she wants a tip drill

It's ya' nigga crack
Live with some fresh cut
Side of the highway
Ridin' that's the best fuck

And you can keep them hotel keys
'Cause we gon' fuck these bitches
Wherever we please

I'm the nigga, nigga
The nigga, nigga, the nigga
The nigga, nigga, Ju-a-vey
I'm the nigga, nigga
The nigga, the nigga, nigga
The nigga, nigga, nigga, Ju-a-vey

You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u
You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u

You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u
You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u

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2e54fb01fd06dbdebfae56173031c9f2

'N' My City - Lyrics - B.G.

Title: 'N' My City
Artist: B.G.
Composer(s): Christopher Noel Dorsey, Mannie Fresh

Lyric:
It's all about the 6 figgas
You ballin' nigga if you got five figgas

I got my AK nigga, and I'm quick to blast it
Game tight like elastic wit a block [unverified] murder jack it
Eraser, Baby Gangsta, V.L. nigga
I'm on a trail to Hell, before I go I want 6 figgas

Uptown is where you catch me doin' dirt, gun slangin'
Nuts hangin', for sho', play me short and I'm bangin'
I ain't no ho, my heart don't pump water, it pump liquor
Watch your step, I'll hit ya, I promise I'll split ya

Click-clack, everything I pack got hollow slugs
I'm the definition of a thug, my whole click sellin' drugs
Ain't no love, if ya outside the CMB, we risin', drivin' Lexus and big body
Got them whole thangs for ten a key, niggas think we tellin' tales

But on the real, we got whole thangs for half a sell
F.B.I. tryin' to nail, but our click covered up smooth
Whatever you do, or how you do, it's all on you
Hot Boy, 16, playin' wit G's

This rap game is the life, nigga ya wouldn't believe
What I go through and what I see, it's amazin'
On the slick, thirty six ounces, top twenty, I'm calculatin'
Hoes catchin' masturbation, shit's a trip

But I'm 'bout moola, fetti, cheese, green, my grip
Nigga don't slip, 'cause I got 10 clips and I flip for it
Nigga believe I'll rip a nigga shit for it

In my city it's a struggle, you hustle to live large
But you step or get stepped on, times is hard
Shit get real, head get bust, blood spill
It's 'bout havin' thangs, that's why I want a mill

In my city it's a struggle, you hustle to live large
But you step or get stepped on, times is hard
Shit get real, head get bust, blood spill
It's 'bout havin' thangs, that's why I want a mill

Nigga, don't you trip 'cause I done came up on a lick
And I'm servin' thirty gram ounces for six
I got the block sewed up now, come to me
I'll take ya to B., he went down to ten a key

We got coke floatin' through that U.P.T.
Glock totin', locin', in the GS3 bubble
In the Lexus 450 Cruiser, block bruiser
Nigga don't let the age fool ya

Head bussa, Hot Boy, young baller
The AK I pack is used for manslaughter
My mind is to be respected, or ya neck come off
'Cause Uptown, there's no hesitation to set it off

Load it up, release safety, and bust
Retaliation is a must, I don't give a fuck
I'm checkmatin' niggas, that's on the real, so wuz happenin'
I'm full of that dope, scratchin', and I'm 'bout that action

Is you 'bout that action, if not, clear a path
I'm mad, I jacked a nigga and an ounce is all he had
That's sad, you stun'n, jeopardisin' ya wig
Doin' that petty hustlin', ain't comin' up on shit

What's the reason, bein' on the block all day
You ain't got nowhere to lay, that nickel and dime pay
You'll do better grabbin' a K, bein' ready to spray
Make a muthafucka day, nigga be ready to spray

In my city it's a struggle, you hustle to live large
But you step or get stepped on, times is hard
Shit get real, head get bust, blood spill
It's 'bout havin' thangs, that's why I want a mill

Spark the beef up like a lighter, I'm a gangsta rap writer
Every time I spit, I get tighter and tighter
Keep it real when I flow, hollow points I throw
Quick to chop a nigga down like a fuckin' lawn mow

Playin' a flow over the limit, in this music business
Come wit shit, ya gotta listen, 'til the fuckin' song finished
Young menace, sport Girbauds and Reebok tennis
Nigga know if I got beef, I spin a bin, spinnin'

Can't calm me down, 'cause I'm from Uptown
Call me, it's war wit an army, wit Tommy guns
Wit drums, a hundred plus shots comin' from 'em
I don't give a fuck, if I did 'em, then I done 'em

Take notes, bitches always try to be close
Silent when you got money, but naughty when ya broke
Bustas wanna be ya boys when they know ya got coke
I stand alone all the time, bitch niggas catch a poke

I hustle hard for what I want, if I don't then I'm a broke nigga
Wit no money on my block then you a joke nigga
I rap now, I put aside that coke nigga
But if I gotta, I grab my duct tape and my rope nigga

In my city it's a struggle, you hustle to live large
But you step or get stepped on, times is hard
Shit get real, head get bust, blood spill
It's 'bout havin' thangs, that's why I want a mill

I want a mil ticket mil ticket
(Gettin' wicked)
On the real, V.L., my nigga Big Moe, 2-2-3
L.T., Adam, G.A., Black Ten

EightBall, Derek, Lil' Turk, Hot Boys
My nigga Bubba got the Hummer
For the summer

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e22f07e6cc61c77ace49bd97e01f51aa

Die Famous - Lyrics - Young World: The Future - Lil Zane

Title: Die Famous
Album: Young World: The Future
Artist: Lil Zane
Composer(s): Antonio Mobley, Zane Jr Copeland, Ken Fambro

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

Lyric:
What will it take for you to notice me
It's like, I'm not here
Do you see us?
(Do you see us?)
Can you see us down here?
(Can you see us down here?)
We have a bad habit of lookin' over people
But this time I'm gon' die famous and everybody gon' know

I'm just a skinny nigga tryin' to get bigger and grow stronger
And the lust to live plush and can't wait no longer
Sick of seein' moms workin' comin home back hurtin'
Cryin' on my shoulder 'cuz the jobs workin' her over
More time everyday but the boss just won't promote her
He's racist she say and assaultin' in some way
Gon' see him on his off day an' let him know
You fucks wit moms no mo' when I drive the forty four
When the headlines read
Boys last heart was his mind for greed
And he'll prob'ly get the chair for good reason it's me
Tell the judge my excuses for the crimes I've committed
I was high when I did it
Worked a pound of Jay's herb
In the heat of the night
My mind clicked up on some other shit
Something they write
Met in the parking lot
He was comin' out his parking spot
Bet nobody see it out there
It stay dark a lot
Went for the handle but the door was locked
At the same time
Cockin' the glock kickin' the car door
Maybe not hold up
Wait a minute
This rap game just got in it
And plus game I'm sayin' two times
The world'll be mine

(Gonna be famous hard to be nameless)
(Niggas gotta die to be famous)
(If I die famous hard to explain this)
(I live a life to die famous)

Hustle money by bloods,crypts,and drug dealers
It's all love wit us
Just expect to catch slugs nigga
I hang wit cut throat niggas
That'll choke yo' niggas
Tie you up and rope yo' niggas
For rap or for dope baby
When I was young couldn't picture bein' broke baby
Then fuckin' wit them dope boys
Had me low crazy
You know it's crucial when I'm sellin' to my folk figure
Dope fiends mixed genes
Puffin' on a roll of smoke
And I ain't grown
Left this lil nigga all alone
Now as nigga grown
Then had a game that you passed on
Guess how many niggas I've passed gone
Niggas in the system now
Ho's wantin' me to hit it
But I'm pissin' now
They got me wild
I know the style, but respect my life style
It isn't fair, before I'm legal I'll be a millionaire

(Gonna be famous, hard to be nameless)
(Niggas gotta die to be famous)
(If I die famous, hard to explain this)
(I live a life to die famous)

(Gonna be famous, hard to be nameless)
(Niggas gotta die to be famous)
(If I die famous, hard to explain this)
(I live a life to die famous)

Well this morning I saw the news flash, pressure unpoured
The judge gave a nigga life 'cuz the boy shot up the court
Witness we die for niggas
Pullin' triggas for a livin'
And we takin' any and everything that we wasnt given
'Cuz hard times keep a nigga keep writin' hard rhymes
Stash 9's run up in a nigga ain't scared to squeeze mines
Freeze time when I stop your heart
'Cuz the slugs that I'm spittin' is the spot that could stop
I die famous you be the nigga I shot
But still nameless 'cuz they cant figure the plot
My crew stainless and we aint hailin' no pot
And ain't nobody gettin' bigger than the niggas we got
We worldwide, but we ride for a nation of thugs
We burnin' heaters if you cheat us
Dudes workin' the slugs
And get the sex baby 'cuz I'm addicted to fame
You make me bust just by screamin' my name
And when I die I die famous

(Gonna be famous hard to be nameless)
(Niggas gotta die to be famous)
(If I die famous hard to explain this)
(I live a life to die famous)

(Gonna be famous hard to be nameless)
(Niggas gotta die to be famous)
(If I die famous hard to explain this)
(I live a life to die famous)

(Gonna be famous hard to be nameless)
(Niggas gotta die to be famous)
(If I die famous hard to explain this)
(I live a life to die famous)

(Gonna be famous hard to be nameless)
(Niggas gotta die to be famous)
(If I die famous hard to explain this)
(I live a life to die famous)

(Gonna be famous hard to be nameless)
(Niggas gotta die to be famous)
(If I die famous hard to explain this)
(I live a life to die famous)

(Gonna be famous hard to be nameless)
(Niggas gotta die to be famous)
(If I die famous hard to explain this)
(I live a life to die famous)

Why do we have to die

I know alot of times
We go unnoticed
They act like they dont love us
But I love you thats all that counts

We love you thats all that counts
It's hard to explain why we die famous
But we do it baby
C'mon

Boy we gotta get noticed
We go to school but you don't see that
We live but you don't see that
This is how we know
This is you'll see

Young world baby
We tired of goin' unnamed
We tired of goin' unnoticed
We've lived in the ghetto for years now
We movin' to the hills, nigga
C'mon
Bringin 'wood to the hood
Y'all know what it is
Young world
I put my life on the line for y'all
I love y'all
It dont matter how hard it get
No matter how hard you try
You keep tryin' nigga
Nigga the world is yours

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cc4f751fb30789dc02063c9dc4482f84

40 - Nigga Shit - Lyrics - E

Title: 40 - Nigga Shit
Artist: E
Composer(s): Brandt Jones, Bosco A Kante, Dedrick Rollison, Dulon Stevens, Earl Thomas Stevens, Tenina Stevens

Lyric:
I get my ride on the HumVee, walkin through the party
Puffin on chronic and drinkin on Bacardi
Gotta represent Cali and bang 'til death do us
Throwin the haters off and keep our folks next to us
For me to bust a Bay bitch she gotta be the thickest
I dig them Bay niggaz cause they Sic'Wid'It and Click-ish
Like that there nigga, re-cop from Mack Diamond
Pop a collar one time, let me know you're still timin

I'm a Bay nigga, all in L.A. nigga
No matter what you say nigga, long as you pay nigga
I figure - you want it bad enough, you gon' take yo' shit
A steel toe mack down to break yo' bitch
And she cain't be fixed, so what if she yours?
We turn housewifes to everyday whores
Send 'em up in stores with the false ID
To get DVD's and big screen TV's
Wanna be like me? I run from vice
Catch a out-of-towner and I'm takin his ice
Throw him in the trunk with the bag and the mice
I know it ain't nice but nigga that's life
Black black on the scratch, no tradin back
2000 'Llac, can you fuck with that?
Me, Mack, 40, Shot and Bosko
All strapped down with the roscoes

We on some nigga shit, Nigga shit
Click shit, big figure shit, Big figure shit
We on some nigga shit, Nigga shit
Sick shit, big nigga shit, Big nigga shit
We on some nigga shit, Nigga shit
Click shit, big figure shit, Big figure shit
We on some nigga shit, Nigga shit
Smoke a spliff, hard liquor shit, Hard liquor beatch

Here I come, steppin out the Vader
They call me D Shot and I'm about my paper
Been in this game since eighty-six
One of the first bosses to hit the independent lick
Y'all know my dawgs is the C L I C K
Them true boss ballers that done paved the way
I throw my Roley up in the air
It cost me 25 K, do you think I care?
I rolls bodies, as thick as you can get 'em
You know them 600's with the V-12 emblems?
The rap game's been good to me
I like the money and the hoes and the V.I.P
The lavish lifestyle that I live
Consist of big-ass parties and sippin gin
We puff trees, we smoke 'em by the ounce
We hit the studio and then bounce

We on some nigga shit, Nigga shit
Click shit, big figure shit, Big figure shit
We on some nigga shit, Nigga shit
Sick shit, big nigga shit, Big nigga shit
We on some nigga shit, Nigga shit
Click shit, big figure shit, Big figure shit
We on some nigga shit, Nigga shit
Smoke a spliff, hard liquor shit, Hard liquor beatch

See I'ma, street walker, gun clapper
Papered up hood nigga livin like a rapper
If you see me you would think I sold a million copy
Like what's-her-name? Ice all on my body
All kind of bitches be thumpin over a motherfucker for the worst
One of 'em got a pair of pre school college scissors in her purse
Ready to take off on a nig', take a nig', beatch
Stab a bitch, shoot a nigga for her nig'
See I'm a slick talkin boss playa
Full of straight mindgames and schemes
Find your botch's weakness, get off in her jeans
Tell her she's the sweetest, pull her mental file
See if I can help cause she's livin in denial, bitch
You liable to find me on the ave, slangin o's
Parked on the curb, sippin white Irish ross
Smokin herb, grindin in my dirty clothes what else?
Hella perved, standin on my P's and toes

We on some nigga shit, Nigga shit
Click shit, big figure shit, Big figure shit
We on some nigga shit, Nigga shit
Sick shit, big nigga shit, Big nigga shit
We on some nigga shit, Nigga shit
Click shit, big figure shit, Big figure shit
We on some nigga shit, Nigga shit
Smoke a spliff, hard liquor shit, Hard liquor beatch

I'm sportin Benzes, Cutlasses, smoke trees and hustle for G's
Pop game that pertain to plenty, shoppin sprees
Magic shows, gatherings and ceremonies
What's your testimony? Ain't nuttin bout me phony
I'm a boss bitch botch
Known for smugglin heroin balloons in my crotch
Beat a bitch down with copper pennies in a sock, I be on the block
Teasin on the dicks, doin nigga shit

We're just some real ass niggaz
We're ballaholics everyday
We're not your ordinary niggaz
Our only motive is to get paid
We're just some real ass niggaz
We're ballaholics everyday
We're not your ordinary niggaz
Our only motive is to get paid
We're not your ordinary niggaz
We're not your ordinary niggaz
We're not your ordinary niggaz
We're not your ordinary niggaz

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Keep It Thoro - Lyrics - Prodigy Of Mobb Deep

Title: Keep It Thoro
Artist: Prodigy Of Mobb Deep
Composer(s): A Johnson, A Maman

Lyric:
Oh, y'all niggas killer now, oh word?
Catch you comin' out your fuckin' crib nigga
Yeah, catch a fuckin' bullet nigga

Ayo, I break bread, ribs, hundred dollar bills
Peel on Ducatis and other four wheels
Write a book full of medicine and generate mills
Tour the album, only for more sales

We used to catch those on the block with crills
Now it's paid shows, promoters post up bills
Sign dems only if the math is real
If you can't match numbers
Then you can't have the head nigga in charge

And shit, live nigga rhymes artist
Pardon, P dub shines regardless
Remorseless, haunt niggas like poltergeists
My advice, 'fore you get like that, is think twice

'Fore you move on it, put jewels on it, who want it
Loose niggas make the news when we start formin'
Snatch stripes off a nigga's uniform often
Doin' it past yo' delf you way out your jurisdiction

Why niggas bullshit on the grill?
I don't fuck around dunny, this move's real
I keep it thoro nigga

Yo, let me back up for 'em, lemme back up, yo, yo
Why niggas bullshit on the grill?
I don't fuck around dunny, this move's real
I gave birth to your whole style and feel

How do it feel to hold my dick in public?
Cock blower, duplicate rap cloner
It's me and you do it live on stage for dolo
I smack niggas like you, smash niggas by the tools
Grab niggas by the throat, show 'n' prove

Rhymes cocky, crazy ill, mad rowdy
Did a buck off of my shit and wrapped your outtie
Tempermental, I snap quick, very touchy
Ayo, my attitude is all fucked up and real shitty
I rap like no one out there can fuck wit me
You feel different, niggas see me

I throw a TV at you crazy, bitches say P you crazy
A pain in da ass, nah but fuck you, pay me
I'm no shorty, nigga, I stop your glory
I'm a thorough street nigga for real, you just applaud me

Avoid P, man take your baby mom's advice
I'm nothing sweet, ill with the guns, you pay the price
When you see me in the streets soldier, salute me
You just a groupie, oh, you gangsta, then shoot me
Who gives a fuck really, I miss my nigga Twin, kill me

So I can join the rest of my falls, up in the heavens
You rap niggas make me laugh, y'all crazy ass
And I don't give a fuck what you sold, that shit is trash
Bang this 'cuz I gurantee that you bought it
Heavy airplay all day wit no chorus, I keep it thoro nigga

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Bloodsport - Lyrics - Hell On Earth - Mobb Deep

Title: Bloodsport
Album: Hell On Earth
Artist: Mobb Deep
Composer(s): Albert J Johnson, Kejuan Muchita

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

Lyric:
Turn them headphones up, yeah
To my man Nigga-No, yo, Killa Bee, no doubt

I kick that progress and to that dumb nigga God bless
I know you can't sleep or rest behind that bullshit
Now you rock the best, scared to death while you walkin'
Fuckin' up the talkin', we straight up, New Yorkin'

We blowin' niggas, heart attack stroking niggas
Provoking niggas, shittin' all over niggas
You rollin' thick but sure the Mobb rollin' thicker
Get that liquor, turn your back ice pick ya but fuck that

Stickin' with the gat is quicker
Scared to come around my corner, you ass nigga
Do a jaw way all day fake shit
What you gonna do outta town, play bitch

And run like a faggot switch take the whole shit
And show the world, don't sweat it, baby girl
I gotta hem and pull the gat like a stem
You all fucked up like a off beat blend

I send message that you couldn't read clear
Try to play the front but you got stuck in the rear
Take it as a letter but I'm not sincere

Yo, this ain't rap, it's bloodsport
Your life cut short, you fell short
Pressure's on high, full court
My team form killer instincts and fire arms

Dangerous stuff mine's brainstorm wars
A life of a wild rebel, who run wild
Clik, nigga, lay down, fool, stay down
Appear, disappear, a hydro cloud

While you running at the mouth a hundred miles, I'm out
Mobb Deep style from the depths of Hempstead get ninja'd
I creep quiet, keep the live nigga inchin'
Listen, who are you to throw your fist in?

Hit like a bitch, run like a faggot an take the whole shit
That's it, I had to pass here with shit
It's time for show time, let's see how deep things get
You want to talk tough and get all delinquent

You find yourself all bloodied up and shamed
Me and my man pioneered this violent nigga rap shit
Bust a gat, give me no fear of that, I'm laughin'
What's up there? Let's take you there and touch something

I'm a maniac, brainiac, fanatic at that
Capable of combat, P counterattack
In some hot wheels, sendin' shots out the back
It was a foul way to go, Kicko, you know the ropes so
Bloodsport, motherfucker

Ayyo, the rockweiler, chew in chew out ass niggas
Pull 'em on your collar and let the lights dimmin'
And you'll be swimmin' in a puddle of reality, juice fatality too
This rap is the bitch, you shouldn't marry the two

To the set of prenumtual, got paid in too comfortable
It's all good, we don't want to humble
And while you shinin' in the spotlight, I got this dot right
The aimed right a stoplight, the trife life, ain't no part two's
When it's over it's over, you hit, now, send your soldierly stool

Ayyo, the rockweiler, chew in chew out ass niggas
Pull 'em on your collar and let the lights dimmin'
And you'll be swimmin' in a puddle of reality, juice fatality too
This rap is the bitch, you shouldn't marry the two

To the set of prenumtual, got paid in too comfortable
It's all good, we don't want to humble
And while you shinin' in the spotlight, I got this dot right
The aimed right a stoplight, the trife life, ain't no part two's
When it's over it's over, you hit, now, send your soldierly stool
Nigga, bloodsport

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Clap - Lyrics - Infamy - Mobb Deep

Title: Clap
Album: Infamy
Artist: Mobb Deep
Composer(s): Kejuan Muchita, Albert Johnson, J Williams

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

Lyric:
Clap

Yo, some niggas need the Henney to endure the drama
All I need is information on your crib and armour
When it comes to creepin' niggas know that I'm the father
Need guns get your own gats and never charter
Like a fucked up barber I push your wig farther
Pull strings have you gettin' clapped and things
My gat is freaky to lick more than any shorty's tongue ring
Any nigga threatenin' my life's a done deal

Watch a bitch get her fill
Then she snitch and squeal
Blow a nigga have 'em leakin' to the court of appeal
Serchin' for Hav is like a search through fog
How you like to make a last pit stop at the morgue
Niggas wanna spread their wings then I'm clippin' 'em off
Niggas wanna spread rumors I shoot their mouth off
And clap a bastard in the first degree

Bust that, gimme that, nigga get clapped
Bust that, gimme that, nigga get clapped
Bust that, gimme that, nigga get clapped
Bust that, gimme that, nigga get clapped
And clap a bastard in the first degree

Bust that, gimme that, nigga get clapped
Bust that, gimme that, nigga get clapped
Bust that, gimme that, nigga get clapped
Bust that, gimme that, nigga get clapped
And clap a nigga in the first degree

Yo, yo, you 'bout to be another dead rapper but who know
Maybe its us, maybe its them other crews
We'll see, 'til then, all I know is how to get the guns in
And give it to a nigga good when he startin'
Fuck that, fuck y'all, fuck all of this shit
Y'all better protect that boy, I'll murder that kid
You got jokes but ain't nobody over here laughin'
All you get is standin' ovation with mack 10's

45ths and more shit we applaud it
Niggas runnin' wit cops, scared to go to war with
Some real rap niggas, we'll catch you at the source awards
From gettin' at this nigga, pardon my force
You better get from around that nigga or you catchin' it too
Your power is no match for my strength of wolves
Nigga we came into this game on this drama shit
More money more murder that's how we live it

More diamonds more guns is the beginnin'
More of this gangsta shit can wear you out
Niggas see my gold max and you went all out
I clap a bastard in the first degree

Bust that, gimme that, nigga get clapped
Bust that, gimme that, nigga get clapped
Bust that, gimme that, nigga get clapped
Bust that, gimme that, nigga get clapped
And clap a bastard in the first degree

Degree in drama knowledge, you nigga just pay the homage
You niggas should be abolished for that rappin' ass garbage
To me, you just a target, easy to hit
With that loud bark Stevie Wonder couldn't even miss
Then it's 1, 2, 3, baby boy you gettin' hit
And ripped, like a whole bitch, by the vultures
Rusty ass germs niggas already know this
Kill who you run with, in charge off who you die with

Prada'd up, Gucci'd up, died on some fly shit
Regulate a wig split a little nigga big nigga
Any nigga kill you your man to the pen shit
So fuck niggas they ain't on my level
'Cuz I been did it
Talk about cliques most infamous run with it
Catch your body's syndrome, most niggas sick with it
And clap a nigga in the first degree

Aiyyo, fall back, step back, we built to last
Get back, move back, this is that smash
This is that murder you niggas get bucked
Your image gets shattered your bitches get fucked
We Mobb Deep anytime we stomp niggas out
Or I might catch you all on myself and spaz out
How heavy it plays out, you niggas is assed out
Take yourself to the first safe house and lock it down

So we wildin', for two thousand and two poundin'
Any nigga out runnin' with their mouth bound 'em
Guns clap security be callin' for back up
[Incomprehensible] bullets
Drop leavin' them bagged up
Why we mash in a jag truck, with the 22's
They spin like how the 44 spun on you
And clap you niggas in the first degree

Bust that, gimme that, nigga get clapped
Bust that, gimme that, nigga get clapped
Bust that, gimme that, nigga get clapped
Bust that, gimme that, nigga get clapped
And clap a bastard in the first degree

Bust that, gimme that, nigga get clapped
Bust that, gimme that, nigga get clapped
Bust that, gimme that, nigga get clapped
Bust that, gimme that, nigga get clapped
And clap a nigga in the first degree

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