B - Boy Bouillabaisse - Lyrics - Beastie Boys

Title: B - Boy Bouillabaisse
Artist: Beastie Boys
Composer(s): Michael Diamond, Matt Dike, John Robert King, Adam Yauch, Adam Horovitz, Michael Simpson

Lyric:
(A) 59 Christie Street

There's a girl over there
With long brown hair
I took her to the place
I threw the mattress in her face

Took off her shirt
Took off her bra
Took off her pants
You know that I saw

A wick-wick-wack

(B) Get On The Mic

One, two

Right about now I'd like to dedicate a song
Out to my main homie, Mike D

Alright, lets kick it
Ready, go

Get on the mic
Get get on the mic
Just get on the mic
Get on the mic, Mike

Let's be real and don't cloud the issue
The rhymes are dope, an M.C. you must listen to
People say that they be missin' me and missin' you
Get on the mic and let's show them like we used to

You say fuck, that yo holmes, fuck this
I'm the king Ad-Whammy, you're Dick Butkus
One half science, and another half soul
Nicknamed Mike D, not Fat Morton Jelly Roll

Got busy in 'Frisco, fooled around in Fresno
Got over on your girlie 'cause you know she never says no

So just get on the mic
Just get on the mic
Get get on the mic
Get on the mic, Mike

Well Mike D is a special individual
Pulling out knots, and pulling in residuals
Go to the movies get the Rolos, the cholos riding slow and low
Mike on the mic and bust with the solo

Mike, my stromy don't be so selfish
Get on the mic 'cause you know you eat shellfish

At the fever

(C) Stop That Train

It's 4:00 AM, I've got the Dr. Hfuhruhurr Ale
I've got nothing to lose, and so I'm pissin' on the third rail
Groggy eyed and fried, and I'm headed for the station
D-Train ride the Coney Island vacation

This one's dedicated to the boofers in the back of the 1 train
They'll be kicking out windows,high on cocaine
And then I jump the turnstyle I lost my last token
Riding between the cars, pissing, smoking

Head for the last car, fluorescent light blackout
Policeman tell my homeboy "Yo, put that crack out"
You know you light up when the lights go down
And then you read the New York Post, Fulton St. downtown

Same faces every day but you don't know their names
Party people going places on the D-Train

{Stop that train, I wanna get off}

Check it

Trench coat wing tip going to work
And you be pulling a train like you're Captain Kirk
Pick pocket gangsters paying their debts
I caught a bullet in the lung from Bernie Goetz

Overworked and underpaid, staring at the floor
Prostitutes' spandex caught in the sliding door
Now your stuck between the stations and it seems like an eternity
Sweating like sardines in a flophouse fraternity

A $50.00 fine for disturbing the peace
The neck, tortoise. Your Lees are creased
Hot cup of coffee and the donuts are Dunkin
Friday night and Jamaica Queens funkin'

Elevated platform, I'm never gonna conform
Riding over the diner where I always get my toast warm
Bust into the conductor's booth andbusted out rhymes
Over the loud speaker about the hard times

Sat across from a man reading El Diario
Riding the train down from the El Barrio
Went from the station to Orange Julius
I bought a hot dog. From who? George Drakoulias

(D) Year And A Day

MC, for what I am, and do
The A is for Adam and the lyrics, true

So as pray and hope and the message is sent
And I am living in the dreams that I have dreamt
Because I'm down with the three, the unstoppable three
Me and Adam and D were born to MC

And my body and soul and mind are pure
Not polluted or diluted or damaged beyond cure
Just lyrics from I to you recited
Arrested, bailed, but cuffed and indicted

Enter the arena as I take the center stage
The lights set low and the night has come of age
Take the microphone in hand as that I am a professional
Speak my knowledge to the crowd and the ed is special

I am the one and I am the master
I am the king and this is my castle
Dwell in realms of now but videos those of the past
Seen a glimpse from ahead and I don't think it's gonna last

And you can bet your ass

I drop the L when I'm skiing, I'm smoking and peaking
I put the skis on the roof almost every single weekend
Can't stop the mindfuck when it's rolling along
Can't stop the smooth runnin's when the shit's running strong

Broke my bindings, the lion with wings
Preaching his word in the B-Boy sing
I am one with myself as I turn to The
I prefer the dreams to the reality

I prefer my life, don't need no other man's wife
Don't need no crazy lifestyle with stress and strife
But it's good to have turn to be a king for a day
Or for a week, or for a year, or for a year and a day

Come what may

I'm fishing in my boat and I'm fishing for trout
Mix the Bass Ale with the Guiness Stout
Fishing for a line inside my brain
And looking out at the world through my window pane

Every day has many colors 'cause the glass is stained
Everything has changed but remains the same
So once again the mirror raised
And I see myself as clear as day

And I am going to the limits of my ultimate destiny
Feeling as though Somebody somewhere is testing me
He who sees the end from the beginning of time
Looking forward through all the ages
Is, was, and always shall be
Check the prophetic sections of the pages

Easy rhyme for the Disco Dave
He goes by the name of Disco Dave

Disco Dave, Disco Dave, Disco Dave, Disco Dave
Disco Dave, Disco Dave, Disco Dave, Disco Dave
Disco Dave
Disco Dave

(E) Hello Brooklyn

Hello Brooklyn

New York, New York, it's a hell of a town
You know the Bronx is up, and I'm Brooklyn down
Because they don't know my name, only know my initials
Building bombs in the attic for elected officials

I quit my job, I cut my hair
You know I cut my boss because I don't care
You tried to get slick, you bust a little chuckle
You're gonna get smacked with my gold finger knuckle

'Cause being as fly as me is something that you never thought of
You'll be sticking up old ladies with the hand gun or the sawed-off
I'm a buffalo soldier, broader than Broadway
Keep keepin' on, I don't care what they say

I play my stereo loud, I disturb my neighbors
I want to enjoy the fruits of my labor

'Cause I am the holder of the 3-pack Bonanza
If you open the book, then you will get your hand slapped
I am the keeper of the 3-pack Bonanza
If you ask a question, then you will get your answer

Her breast, I saw, I reached, I felt
M.O.N.E.Y. the belt
I stay at home just like a hermit
I got the jammy but I don't got the permit

You know why?
You got a boyfriend and his name is Nick
Annabelle caught with the shrimpy limp dick
I ride around town cause my ride is fly
I shot a man in Brooklyn {just to watch him die}

(F) Dropping Names

(Take PCP)

He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists he sees a ghost
He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists he sees a ghost
She's slippin through his fingers as she's movin' out to the coast
He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists he sees a ghost

Well if your world was all black, and if your world was all white
When yhen you wouldn't get much color out of life now, right?
I'm nicknamed Shamrock, but my name is not Shamus
Girlies on the tip because my homey is famous

My name is not O'Houigheighi, nor is it Brian
If I said that I was weak man, you know I'd be a lying
Suckers try to bite, they try to pursue it
{Yea explain to musician. Them knew it, but them can't do it}

(G) Lay It On Me

Lay it on me now
Not so hard man

Yo, I got Chinese eyes and Chinese suits
Smokin' much Buddha and smokin' much boots
More updated on the hip-hop lingo
My favorite New York Knick was Hawthorne Wingo

Met a girl at a party and I gave her my card
Man you know that it said Napoleon Bonaparte
Peepin' out the colors, I be buggin' on Cezanne
They call me Mike D, Joe Blow, the Lover Man

Well, your face turns as red as your glass of wine
That you spilled on my lyrics as you wasted my time
Girl you should be with me you should drop that bum
'Cause I got more flavor than Fruit Stripe Gum

With that big round butt of yours, I'd like to butter your muffin
I'm not bluffin'
Serve you on a platter like Thanksgiving stuffin'
Stuffin', stuffin'

Stuff it buddy

(H) Mike On the Mic

Here's another one for ya'll to peep
It's called MIKE on the MIC, see?

I met this girl last night with a peculiar cackle
I laid the bait and then she took the tackle
Had too much to drink at the Red Lobster
Now the room is spinning around like the blades of a helicopter

I've never met a girl that was too finicky
If the press has their way then they're going to finish me
You might know this, but you've never been to see
If I ate spinach I'd be called Spinach D

I shed light like cats shed fur
Ride around town like a Raymond Burr
I'm so high that they call me Your Highness
So If you don't know me then pardon my shyness

I live in the Village, wherever I go I walk to
I keep my friends around so I have someone to talk to
I play my music loud because you know it's got clout to it
{It's a trip, it's got a funky beat, and I can bug out to it}

(I) A.W.O.L

DJ Hurricane

When Mike D's in the house, whatchyu gonna do?
I go A.W.O.L.

Adrock's in the house, whatchyu gonna do?
I go A.W.O.L.

When MCA's in the house, whatchyu gonna do?
I go A.W.O.L.

When Hurricane's in the house, whatchyu gonna do?
He goes A.W.O.L.

Saint James in the house, whatchyu gonna do?
[Incomprehensible], whatchyu gonna do?
Got busy in the house, whatchyu gonna do?
Dust Brothers in the house, whatchyu gonna do?
Mike G in the house, whatchyu gonna do?
Whodini's in the house, whatchyu gonna do?
Hollis Crew, whatchyu gonna do?
[Incomprehensible] is in the house, whatchyu gonna do?
[Incomprehensible] is in the house, whatchyu gonna do?

Jazzy Jay in the house
Bad Brains in the house
Original Concept in the house

Good night Amsterdam

Now I want you all to break this down

To all the girls
To all the girls

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Live On The Mic - Lyrics - Tha Streetz Iz a Mutha - Kurupt

Title: Live On The Mic
Album: Tha Streetz Iz a Mutha
Artist: Kurupt
Composer(s): Priest Joseph Brooks, Ricardo Brown, Lawrence Parker

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

Lyric:
Yeah, this is what you would call somethin' like
One of the things that, you know, when you meet your goal
You get to the top of the game and the dream come true
Kurupt and KRS-One freestyle

Yes, yes y'all, yeah, yeah y'all
(Uh)
KRS y'all, uh, huh, uh, huh
(Uh)
Yeah Kurupt, y'all
Time to check it out, uh, huh

Prophecy, y'all yes yes, y'all
(Yea)
KRS, y'all, uh, huh, like this y'all
(Yea)
You know what's up comin' through like that
(Haha)

I laugh at that, your whole premise is off
I'm blastin' that, somehow my foot is exactly where yo ass is at
Abusin' it, you know for 86 produce 77
I'm doin' to you on the other hand still kind of new to it

I spit lead into better men, you a veteran, ain't no tellin'
What I send to get them yet another one
My voice-box send shocks of adrenaline so you sweat again
(Unverified)

Then again I noticed that everybody
Think they can fuck with us but luckily I noticed
Everybody want to be close to us, tryin' to bust when they bust
I seen them they ain't treacherous and they ain't fuckin' with us

My style's out this universe, words that serve all these emcees
They hear pre-verbs I break them down to nouns and verbs
They know exactly what I do, I run through crew for crew
KRS, it's on you, baby

True underground, Boogey Down got them runnin' around
Comin' to town breakin' them all the way down
And makin' them frown, true underground

Not a class clown, copy, guilty ass, papi
I roll with the mash out posse
The beat down posse, terror squad
You'll find you was never hard

When the clip loads and I yell Flip-Mode
My faster, fresh blows, give my foes death blows
The best nose, goes live at breath shows

See I heard it before, word it before
Worded it before, before
Every emcee tried to serve it before

Be Kurupt the raw dog hog servin' all y'all
Fuck around with us the top dog
Murder all y'all, my minds incredible

I'm out this mind state, lookin' at me, oh my goodness
What rhymes he creates
Is he the best? Wonderin', nah, ain't no best
It's only me and KRS we don't need no vest, mothafucka

Uh, like that, yeah, uh, huh, like that, uh
(We gangstafied Kurupt and KRS-One on the mic, Yeah)

Comin' through in the studio live
KRS-One, yeah I'm still on Jive
But I represent emcees now out in

Yeah, no doubt, I be kurupt the raw dog and I'm droppin'
Every emcee from here to Compton
Raw dog, assassin when you see me comin' through, blastin
Don't matter no harrassin, they won't lastin'

The last round, the last nigga knocked down
Provocative sound, droppin' off round for round
And pound for pound, I be from the Dogpound
It's me a Kris, nigga you can eat my dick

I break them down so quick, you can't fuck with this
The lyricist poltergiest is way nice
Break and take them in freezers just like ice
Fuck around with me, O.G, yo, we so precise

You know the teacher's agenda
We will be here forever, you plottin' to surrender
Action start, you start tremor
Never lose my temper, when my temple member
You know the center of the dope beat, remember

Yea, yea, haha
Raw dog assassin style
KRS and kurupt
Yea, yea, y'all, uh, huh
Like this, like this

Yeah, we make them bounce, I make them bounce
We make them bounce, yo, I make them bounce
Yo, I blaze a ounce, yeah, I blaze a ounce
I'm gonna bounce to the ounce

When the homies come through
Dogpound we surround like we bustin' at you
I leave ya flat, homie
You wonderin, you lookin' back, homie
I leave you all alone, in the danger zone

Lookin' at Kurupt and didn't notice it was on
My homeboy, slittin', spreadin', begin the spreadin'
Niggas, who don't bust rhymes, niggas start beheadin'
Me and Kris, we do it just like this
Lyricist, niggas can't fuck with this

That's right y'all, you heard what the man said
KRS-One styles could never be dead
Thats why we still in-in the studio
Chillin' it's about three o'clock
And we representin' real hip-hop

Now you know what time it is
We got the camera in our face
KRS-One, all up in the fuckin' place
You know what time it is
We got to come back again

I got my friend, I can't remember his name again
But I'm gonna keep flowin', gonna keep showin'
Remember the skills that out the box

We be blowin', like that, yo Foxy you on the track
Come and get some'a that pass it right back
Now my man, Kurupt, on the mic like this
Now come back and represent beside the Kris

Clap your hands, get it all together then
See me come through, me and Kris
Tougher than leather and every emcee who come through
Be better than you, Claimin' they better than you
But we start severin' heads

Everybody lookin' at me I flows from the head
Leave them all dead, nigga, you heard what I said
Punk ass niggas, don't realize the game

Despisin' the game homeboy televisin' the game
Seen the game, so im televisin the game
Surprisin' the game, oh no, I'm risin' the game

They shook down they took down, shook like clowns
See me rockin' I be rockin' all around
Don't you know it, oh yeah, the poltergiest poet
Throw it, I show it, homeboy just don't blow it

Sit on the couch, with a joint in my mouth
Gettin' as high as can be, even though, they despisin' me
Realizin' I be makin' more money than Spike Lee

And that's my homie, O.G to me
Yo, Kris, we gonna do it like this
(Yeah?)
Drop them down, quick, and they can eat a dick

Boogey Down, Boogey Down
Boogey Down, Boogey Down
Boogey Down production
Boogey Down, Boogey Down
Boogey Down, Boogey Down

Ha-ha ha-ha
(Byatch)
Yo we out, dog
(Bitch gangsta life, me and KRS-One on the mic)

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Live From New York - Lyrics - Raekwon

Title: Live From New York
Artist: Raekwon
Composer(s): Michael Dewar, Collin Dewar, Corey Woods, Chris Spheeris

Lyric:
Li-li-live from New York, li-li-live from New York
Is you watchin' what's on my motherfuckin' neck, nigga?
Li-li-live from New York, li-li-live from New York
Live from New York

Yo, yo, all white bolon, the allie pulled on
Kept his fade low, rocked swade in the snow
Blue Tahoe, a wizard on the keyboard
Eyes look bloodshot, Lord, nevermind that, climb the award

In the system we just missed 'em
Came through bangin' nuthin but Wu, the crowd blitzed 'em
Much love, autograph carryin' the Champaigne glasses
Crazy asses, niggas on his neck like ski masks

Chill steppin' the axe, slash through a little fifty an' crash
I wanna drink, knew she'd pocket the cash
Buck Samonite hype nigga, Iron Man blowin' the mic
You motherfuckin' right, live highlight

Then I seen him, nigga was raw, stepped in
Bitches flexin' next to him, bad Mexicans
What up? Showin' you love, you got a real style
Where you from? The Ow, that's Staten Isle, love no doubt

Oh, God, he had a take 'bout a hundred
Some strange nigga think he had arranged, God gone blunted
Pay attention, it's cinch like sacks an' macks
He did the knowledge, ran to the bar an' grabbed stacks

Now the whole parties bubblin', niggas got love in his bug
He had on one glove, rollin' up drugs
Him an' his Vikings ran through, stopped played the back
Then they walked through, live from New York when niggas hug you

Gettin' money an' laced up, live from New York
Gettin' reefer to blaze up, live from New York
Gettin' niggas to dance, aiyyo an' throw both hands up
Won't pull their pants up, live from New York

Gettin' money an' laced up, live from New York
Gettin' reefer to blaze up, live from New York
Gettin' niggas to dance, aiyyo an' throw both hands up
Won't pull their pants up, live from New York

Yo, yo, Madonna money in our pocket, boatin' in a rocket
'Bout to blast off, we charged like the socket
Whips be cleaner than a fuck, jewels basically struck
Strait up Brolox style, layin' in the cut

Bottles strictly done, ring the alarm
Rollie on the arm, arms crossed, two sneakers on
Fly shit, Nikes the majority
NYC state of mind an' we talk with authority

5 borrows is sterile, still out of town playin' mellow
I thought I seen Shalon swade yellow
Rippin' it, new six flippin' it, shorty is drip dippin' in it
When she sit through dick in it

Came to conclusions, what's the solution when your losin'?
Respect mine now from the foul line
Streets is a part of us, teachin' the seeds through the heart of us
Some get locked, that's a scar on us

Gettin' money an' laced up, live from New York
Gettin' reefer to blaze up, live from New York
Gettin' niggas to dance, aiyyo an' throw both hands up
Won't pull their pants up, live from New York

Gettin' money an' laced up, live from New York
Gettin' reefer to blaze up, live from New York
Gettin' niggas to dance, aiyyo an' throw both hands up
Won't pull their pants up, live from New York

Gettin' money an' laced up, live from New York
Gettin' reefer to blaze up, live from New York
Gettin' niggas to dance, aiyyo an' throw both hands up
Won't pull their pants up, live from New York

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Hood Star - Lyrics - Omarion

Title: Hood Star
Artist: Omarion
Composer(s): Darhyl Camper, Omari Grandberry, Rufus Moore, Jordan Suecof, Shad Moss

Lyric:
Ay man, this what the world been waitin' on, dawg
New beginning, my niggas, prince of the rap game you know
Me Bow Weezy, The Ambassador
Omarion, dig dat homeboy

Squeeze the life out of the game, so call me python
Nigga, I transform when they turn them lights on
Mic on, ice on, yeah, I gets my shine on
Mr. Money ain?t a thang, Jr. wit' Omarion

And I confess that I?m feelin? myself
I confess that I?m in it the wealth, with money under my belt
So much R 'n' B baby, that my show could be shelved
I'm lost in the flow, I can't be helped

I got a swag that can't be chromed
Got a Benz and a Bentley and a Lac and a Jag on chrome
I?m a boss, watch your mouth, boy
The hood love what I do

Live the life of a hood star, ?cause your boy nice wit' it
Girls line up at the bar, it's ?cause I?m nice wit' it
Forget the price, get it, they talkin? but we live it
They talkin? but we live it, the definition of nice

Live the life of a hood star, ?cause your boy nice wit it
Girls line up at the bar, it's ?cause I?m nice wit it
Forget the price, get it, they talkin? but we live it
They talkin? but we live it, the definition of nice

Look, I can't describe how I feel man
It's like any time I breathe I make a million
Shows we gon? pack ?em out, money come in large amounts
Ball until we fall, nigga, yeah, that?s what I?m talkin? ?bout

Screamin? like guns started poppin? in the club
The only thing poppin? is bottles fillin? my cup
Then we step on stage, it?s like the Twin Towers was born
Fire in my eyes, ice in my veins, it?s on

Ay, the big game is ruthless, Phantom ruthless
Young Bow Weezy definition what the truth is
I'm err where the money be, err where the honeys be
You lookin? at the real shit, other niggas wanna be

Columbus to LA, you lames know just how we get down
Go to any city and we shuttin? down your hometown
We young wit' it, cocky, yeah, we the problem
Dynamic duo but not Batman and Robin

I got a swag that cant be matched
Got a house in the hills and it looks like a car show in the back
I'm a boss, boy
The hood love what I do

Live the life of a hood star, ?cause your boy nice wit' it
Girls line up at the bar, it's ?cause I?m nice wit' it
Forget the price, get it, they talkin? but we live it
They talkin? but we live it, the definition of nice

Live the life of a hood star, ?cause your boy nice wit' it
Girls line up at the bar, it's ?cause I?m nice wit' it
Forget the price, get it, they talkin? but we live it
They talkin? but we live it, the definition of nice

I'm sayin? man, this what we do, you know what I?m sayin?
24, 7, 365, you know
They talkin? but we live it
They talkin? but we live it, the definition of nice
I live it man

Live the life of a hood star, ?cause your boy nice wit' it
Girls line up at the bar, it's ?cause I?m nice wit' it
Forget the price, get it, they talkin? but we live it
They talkin? but we live it, the definition of nice

Live the life of a hood star, ?cause your boy nice wit' it
Girls line up at the bar, it's ?cause I?m nice wit' it
Forget the price, get it, they talkin? but we live it
They talkin? but we live it, the definition of nice

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Hood Star - Lyrics - Face Off - Bow Wow

Title: Hood Star
Album: Face Off
Artist: Bow Wow
Composer(s): Darhyl Camper, Omari Grandberry, Rufus Moore, Jordan Suecof, Shad Moss

Lyric:
Ay man, this what the world been waitin' on, dawg
New beginning, my niggas, prince of the rap game you know
Me Bow Weezy, The Ambassador
Omarion, dig dat homeboy

Squeeze the life out of the game, so call me python
Nigga, I transform when they turn them lights on
Mic on, ice on, yeah, I gets my shine on
Mr. Money ain?t a thang, Jr. wit' Omarion

And I confess that I?m feelin? myself
I confess that I?m in it the wealth, with money under my belt
So much R 'n' B baby, that my show could be shelved
I'm lost in the flow, I can't be helped

I got a swag that can't be chromed
Got a Benz and a Bentley and a Lac and a Jag on chrome
I?m a boss, watch your mouth, boy
The hood love what I do

Live the life of a hood star, ?cause your boy nice wit' it
Girls line up at the bar, it's ?cause I?m nice wit' it
Forget the price, get it, they talkin? but we live it
They talkin? but we live it, the definition of nice

Live the life of a hood star, ?cause your boy nice wit it
Girls line up at the bar, it's ?cause I?m nice wit it
Forget the price, get it, they talkin? but we live it
They talkin? but we live it, the definition of nice

Look, I can't describe how I feel man
It's like any time I breathe I make a million
Shows we gon? pack ?em out, money come in large amounts
Ball until we fall, nigga, yeah, that?s what I?m talkin? ?bout

Screamin? like guns started poppin? in the club
The only thing poppin? is bottles fillin? my cup
Then we step on stage, it?s like the Twin Towers was born
Fire in my eyes, ice in my veins, it?s on

Ay, the big game is ruthless, Phantom ruthless
Young Bow Weezy definition what the truth is
I'm err where the money be, err where the honeys be
You lookin? at the real shit, other niggas wanna be

Columbus to LA, you lames know just how we get down
Go to any city and we shuttin? down your hometown
We young wit' it, cocky, yeah, we the problem
Dynamic duo but not Batman and Robin

I got a swag that cant be matched
Got a house in the hills and it looks like a car show in the back
I'm a boss, boy
The hood love what I do

Live the life of a hood star, ?cause your boy nice wit' it
Girls line up at the bar, it's ?cause I?m nice wit' it
Forget the price, get it, they talkin? but we live it
They talkin? but we live it, the definition of nice

Live the life of a hood star, ?cause your boy nice wit' it
Girls line up at the bar, it's ?cause I?m nice wit' it
Forget the price, get it, they talkin? but we live it
They talkin? but we live it, the definition of nice

I'm sayin? man, this what we do, you know what I?m sayin?
24, 7, 365, you know
They talkin? but we live it
They talkin? but we live it, the definition of nice
I live it man

Live the life of a hood star, ?cause your boy nice wit' it
Girls line up at the bar, it's ?cause I?m nice wit' it
Forget the price, get it, they talkin? but we live it
They talkin? but we live it, the definition of nice

Live the life of a hood star, ?cause your boy nice wit' it
Girls line up at the bar, it's ?cause I?m nice wit' it
Forget the price, get it, they talkin? but we live it
They talkin? but we live it, the definition of nice

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29465880834c85ed07ec6dd3287cd39f

Maintaining - Lyrics - Resurrection - Common

Title: Maintaining
Album: Resurrection
Artist: Common
Composer(s): Lonnie Rashid Lynn, Ernest Dion Wilson

Lyric:
Gotta watch out for them critters
I get the party live, Common Sense will get the party live, huh
I get the party live, Common Sense will get the party live, huh
I get the party live, Common Sense will get the party live, huh
I get the party live, Common Sense will get the party live, huh

I was born in Chicago, raised on Planet Rock
Talking zsa zsa zsa zsa
Catch knock my tape like beats, I'm fresh as fruits
(Uh)
You pussy MC, it's you I rebuke, repent
You burn up, you got me bit, I'm coming as ebit
Got on big hoes at Freak nit, frequently your telling me
Won and worn your rockets
So he ain't put no scratch in my pocket

Yo heard, with my head I cock it
And rock it like that brother in Colors
'Cuz I want y'all to live, my crew is 2 Live, we sneakin' to the rear
But I can't get us all in free, it's just another case of that 2 dollar MC
(What?)
I rock the same clothes 3 days straight to you
They wrinkled but to my they straight
Now I'm straight, are you straight? I'm straight as long as I got beer
I thought about it Jack, and now I'm out of here

Maintain the rock
I get the party live, Common Sense will get the party live, huh
Don't stop the rock

Maintain the rock
I get the party live, Common Sense will get the party live, huh
Don't stop the rock

Maintain the rock
I get the party live, Common Sense will get the party live, huh
Don't stop the rock

Maintain the rock
I get the party live, Common Sense will get the party live, huh
Don't stop the rock

I need me some new socks, I need me some new drawers
I draws attention like a letter to a sargent
Theres a few good MC's the wack, I'm giving code red
Slim say I got nobody but when they see me at the party
They be like, "Go 'head, go 'head"
'Cuz I got's the cuts like Bobby, rappers are dick heads
Choppin' they demo, I do it like Big Red
My office hours are from 9 to 5
While you avoid the party I make it live

The fellas nod and the chicks dance
While I'm coolin' in my jumpers and my big pants
I'm as dope as PCP, MC's see me and start having flashbacks
I don't flash scratch, I gotta watch my back
Now a days blacks don't know how to act
Besides Larry Fishburn, Charles Jug and Wesly Snipes
Marks wanna test me because I test the mics
I check 'em like sound, and like loose I'm down
Plus I done got better since soul by the pound, I maintain

Maintain the rock
I get the party live, Common Sense will get the party live, huh
Don't stop the rock

Maintain the rock
I get the party live, Common Sense will get the party live, huh
Don't stop the rock

Maintain the rock
I get the party live, Common Sense will get the party live, huh
Don't stop the rock

Maintain the rock
I get the party live, Common Sense will get the party live, huh
Don't stop the rock

I fall fresh apon the spirit, with the lyric that's overwhelming
And house more hoes then Spell man
Worse unwelcome like James Johnston
My brains sponsoring speech on the mic, I'm like a Jackson
Rappers I'm fondling, they try to settle out of court
But I, could never be bought, what type of rebel eats pork?
I'll take the cat and never get caught, you wack together we fought
'Cuz I can't see my melons boxing if he's not boxin' with 'em

I don't care who started it, I'm gonna be apart of it
Regardless of the odds of how hard
It's been many times we was outnumbered and we still got with them
I got rhythm from some boogers and some foxes
But if I becomes a 10 then some brothers all some gin
And I got juice, and this niggas scared

I'll F your head up, like the L.A.
For when I flow for cash I got for broke like Mel for Moore
Why should a male with a B8 get more then me?
When Rashid got an MC degree and a doctrine in rockin' shit
I go to docs to get a fish wish with cheese
I don't mix with MC's 'cuz I just don't like the mother [unverified]
But I'm still maintaining

Maintain the rock
I get the party live, Common Sense will get the party live, huh
Don't stop the rock

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2b98585d86c5fda8e9d3f20c030ffe7f

Right On - Lyrics - Dilated Peoples

Title: Right On
Artist: Dilated Peoples
Composer(s): Michael Perretta, J Robinson, Rakaa Taylor, Eric Brooks, Rico Smith

Lyric:
Back in the days, my pops said, "Right on"
(Right on, right on)
All the street poets in the house, write on
(Write on, write on)

Black people, right on, right one
(Right on, right on)
All my niggas rollin' Chevy's on deep-dish chrome, ride on ride on
(Ride on, ride on)

I still rock the party till the needle starts skippin'
I'm trippin' like Pippen, Spice Rum sippin'
We're mentally fastest, head of all our classes
You couldn't pass us wit a rocket like NASA's

We all up in the house like cocky-roaches
Snatchin' MC's out the game like hockey coaches
Fuck it, I'll break you down like a bucket
I like the bass hittin' like a [Incomprehensible]

Close encounters of the Likwit Kind
I'm sick wit mine, writin' rhymes on picket signs
It's the J R O, you didn't know?
Goin' off in your face like a dirty pistol

You in the house of brews, crime scenes wit no clues
You walkin' home bruised, confused wit no shoes
You lose! 'Cuz you got the dilated blues
Here's some news, my DJ rock the mic and the one's and two's and I'm out

And I'm in
My words are like swords cuttin' the paper wit the pen
Yo, Dilated could never be annihilated
I waited two albums too long, somebody violated

We migrated to global positioning
All the DJ's listenin', Babu mixin' it
E-Swift yeah, the man, the myth
I pass the mic to Evidence for the assist then I'm out

And I'm in
My appetite for destruction will eat you up for dinn
Yo only one meal, get sliced to four courses
I'd take me serious, collect your man and forces

I strictly run off select input
Played yourself, don't have to shoot you in the foot
'Cuz you stepped outta bounds without making your rounds
Now you come to my town ask Rak
(Yo you on deadly ground)

These last four bars, I'ma heal all my scars
I'm a underground cat but still like money and cars
A Cali classic, that's my word, and my word's my bond
Dilated Peoples, alkaholiks, this joint's right on

My homie King T told me Big Tash, right on, so I'ma
(Right on, right on)
To all my forty-downin' homies in the house tonight
(Right on, right on)

To all the sexy-ass ladies if you feelin' alright
(Right on, right on)
To my Dilated homies that be rippin' the mic
(Right on, right on)

Whether you writin' or ridin', right on
Fresh MC's must write on
Even if you skateboardin', ride on
Some of these free stylers need to write on like my homie Tash

I got my write on late at night burst a verse until they flow right
My rhymes be action-packed, I wrote these lyrics to a strobe light
I'm Tashy, the flashy nigga jumpin' out that fast shit
Your rhymes won't impress me if you said 'em doin' back flips

I crack whips on phones, blow smoke out nose
Niggas peepin' out the style, hoes peepin' the clothes
A million flows off the slang, bizz-a-pow, bizz-a-bang
Likwit crew is in this bitch, my click be off the chain

Rap off the plane while crackin' champagne
Tash for president, you know my campaign
First things first to get y'all niggas off the street
You get twenty-five years if you part wit wack beats

You coulda came to Ev, you coulda came to Swift
That's why we escalatin' while y'all niggas need a lift
So give me two secs while I crack this Beck's
And once I drop the mic, my nigga Rak is up next and I'm out

And I'm in
I pick it up for everybody in the house that spins
My name is Rakaa, innovator of rhyme communication
Wit data like Star Trek, The Next Generation
It's dilation, fan appreciation

Connected nationwide, worldwide liquidation
Cali hard-hitters, we bump like car fenders
It's all chips
We only get boo's from bartenders

Better be sure, aim high, we top gunnin'
When we touch down, we hit the ground runnin'
Feds pull strings and watch me like Truman
But I can't front, I love L.A. like Randy Newman

To all the homies locked up writin' home, write on c'mon
(Write on, write on)
Graffiti artists around the world, write on c'mon
(Write on, write on)

To niggas rollin' on Katanas, quickly ride on c'mon
(Ride on, ride on)
To all the women out there raisin' kids alone
Right on
(Right on)
Right on
(Right on)
Yeah

Broadcastin' live from Southern California
Where we at?
Broadcastin' live from Southern California

Dilated Peoples
Represent wit tha Liks
What

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101c1318e59caf65aff3e6841a12a29d

2 Live Is What We Are - Lyrics - 2 Live Crew Is What We Are - 2 Live Crew

Title: 2 Live Is What We Are
Album: 2 Live Crew Is What We Are
Artist: 2 Live Crew
Composer(s): Luther Campbell, David Hobbs, Mark Ross, Christopher Wong Won

Lyric:
1, 2, 1, 2
I am the dominating Fresh Kid Ice
And I am the Brother Marquis, Marquis your brother
And introducing to you on the two turntables
The Treach DJ Mr. Mixx
Word, word, word, word, word

We get the red carpet treatment 'cause we're well respected
Always accepted and never rejected
Our defense is made when we take the stage
The crowd gets excited and goes in a rage

'Cause we're generating and demonstrating
All of the talents that we're accumulating
And by doing this we'll go real far
Because 2 Live is what we are

We're highly publicized and advertised
Our music's in your ear, our face in your eyes
We're good to go and goin' to be good
We've done the right thing like you knew we would

Because we are here for your dancing pleasure
With our microphones 'cause that's what we treasure
Now, the man, you see, who has hands of magic
His name is Mr. Mixx, so come on an' scratch it

You can call me Brother Marquis, Marquis your brother
The T E S T, I pass with with flying colors
I'm capable and on the case
Gettin' straight to the point, with no time to waste

The point is that this party needs to be rocked
With drummin' thumpin' beats around the clock
From odds to outspoken to opinionated
In need of a rhyme, I will create it

The best is yet to come with much, much more
You got me rockin' you with my rhymes galore
Now, my rhymes won't stop, my rhymes won't quit
Just give me the mic and I rock it

On to the break of dawn
I will rock y'all to the early morn
'Cause I'm the demonstrating, the dominating
Annihilator, brutalor, MC-hating

So, all MC's must step on off
'Cause I'm lettin' you know who's the boss
Now, Kid Ice, you know you're twice as nice
Why don't you get up on the mic and start to recite?

'Cause they call me Kid Ice, the ladies' fire
When I enter a room, ladies fill we desire
Anytime I'm good, yes, on the mic
I said the girls keep comin' back every night

'Cause I dress so fresh, my voice is clean
I can rock party people, yes, even the Queen
In England, Germany, France and Japan
The ladies know that I'm the man

Who keep 'em from the kitchen, just doin' their dishes
'Cause I have 'em in bed fulfillin' their wishes
I got a degree in makin' love
Yes, I got it from my father just up above

I could take a girl from any man
With a twitch of my lips or wave of a hand
So, to all you guys out there tonight
Grab your girl, hold her tight

Say treat her with respect and treat her right
'Cause I might be in town for just one night

Word
Do it

1, 2, 3, 4, 4
5, 6, do it, do it
We're, we're, we're here
We're back, back, back, back

Back
Back
Back
...

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a053d96cba3e7434c9e5a8a190a580d5

Street Kings - Lyrics - Untold Story - Game

Title: Street Kings
Album: Untold Story
Artist: Game
Composer(s): Joseph Tom, Davon Brown, Ivory Collins, Damon Morris, Quincy Bailey, Jayceon Taylor

Lyric:
Fuck it, yo, who the best MC on the west?
By far it's me and in my car is a continental tea
And my broad in that continental suite
With the armadillo rollin' up dutches like that motherfuckers

Beef with the kid, click clack, motherfuckers
Let them bullets burn your six pack, motherfuckers
Get jacked, motherfucker, when you come to Compton
Get a mack, motherfucker, when you come to Compton

I walk through Times Square holdin' my Johnson
A cross style Jada make a run threw Yonkers
I got D-blocks like the locks and these glocks like to pop
And nigga I like your watch, so roll over, you can die with the jury

First nigga, take the stand to testify he gonna die with the jury
And I might kidnap the judge or send a team
To lean on the prosecutors so the DA budge
I got niggas that'll ride for a grand

So handover my rock like Earl Manson
You can die where you stand
You got his back you can die with your man
I'll let you jog for about 30 seconds then you gunned down

You know this GL shit we got G's on the line
Or G's on the squad, all week on the grind
And if you doubt that step up, 'cuz we ain't hard to find
Street kings in our prime you want us then come and try us

You know this GL shit we got G's on the line
Or G's on the squad all week on the grind
And if you doubt that step up, 'cuz we ain't hard to find
Street kings in our prime, you want us then come and try us

I'm a take it to the next, take it to a motherfuckin' neck
Pull up on a nigga holdin' triggers and techs
We droppin' square beads, you easy to read
This is the end of the road for whole ass MC's

Smoke grass by the pound, glock holds 17 rounds
And the flow'll knock any nigga down
Rap you like a burrito come threw and kill you and your people
Said them that I shitted on you nigga like I was a flock of seagulls

Infrared beam like a traffic jam at night
Handle any man in sight with his hands upon a mic
Wanna light, I got the torch, California up north
For any nigga puttin' flamed on a Porches and never drive on

Bitch, you're gonna die on
San Quinton for and five catch a live one
Bust shots at the clouds, so we can shine some
Get up off your ass and nigga and grind some

You know this GL shit, we got G's on the line
Or G's on the squad all week on the grind
And if you doubt that step up, 'cuz we ain't hard to find
Street kings in our prime you want us then come and try us

You know this GL shit we got G's on the line
Or G's on the squad, all week on the grind
And if you doubt that step up, 'cuz we ain't hard to find
Street kings in our prime we're touching the streets grinds

Flash fuckers on the tip of the gat
You can put on flat but I'll kill that, I'll open you up like a mat
Even if you heard at I squirted and murdered a man
And these new school nigga talk like we heard of them plans

Seventy-two times 36 millimeters in your mini van
Gettin' off on you nigga and your mini-mans
Only thing runnin' is blood nigga so we gettin' grand
So we will bust your head, nigga, straight through your hand

Or get off in yo ass nigga like Jackie Chan
And when it's all said and done it's a one will stand
Gunnin' this motorbike, feelin' this power man
A 185 miles per hour, man, I stay co-relatin' with the Taliban
I show up, show up, show up, show up

Niggaz talk about money, they forgot the struggle
Playas paint a perfect picture, they forgot the hustle
Pieces of a puzzle, guzzlin' pints, watchin' the moonlight
Turn to sunlight, street more gun fights, penitentiary kites

Seen a man turn to mice than mice turn to man
See my nigga take the stand turn my other mans hand
Got me nauseous in my abdomen, got me servin' grams again
Grams rapped in rubber bands, 22's on them rubbers bands

Slow rollin, 'dro blowin', I'm gettin' rich you see my fro growin'
Ho's knowin' I pimp them to the fullest, respect a gangsta
You can shoot but I eat bullets, I shit missiles
And my eyeballs look like crystals, my shits official
It's more humaro Merofrista

Yo, yo, it's Luke and everything I sit on fat
Niggaz be like oh shit, how a nigga shit on that?
You wanna see me shit on and grit on tracks
Glock with the red paint, puttin' it on hat
Talk about the real thing not the 760

The reason that they took the fair team to get me
You don't want it with my dogs, you got teeni guys
I mean itsy bitsy little bitty weeni guys
I done seen them guys bought as big as my gats
And they ain't even got enough strength to squeeze on that

You want real hard core shit I be's on that
Cop the XLT you put threes on that, put cheese on hats
When luchi seeks squeeze on gats we even leave these on flat
G's messin' low they got g's on that and have
How your momma outside screamin' "Please don't clap"

You know this GL shit we got G's on the line
Or G's on the squad, all week on the grind
And if you doubt that step up, 'cuz we ain't hard to find
Street kings in our prime we're touching the streets grinds

You know this GL shit we got G's on the line
Or G's on the squad, all week on the grind
And if you doubt that step up, 'cuz we ain't hard to find
Street kings in our prime you want us then come and try us

You know this GL shit we got G's on the line
Or G's on the squad, all week on the grind
And if you doubt that step up, 'cuz we ain't hard to find
Street kings in our prime we're touching the streets grinds

You know this GL shit we got G's on the line
Or G's on the squad, all week on the grind
And if you doubt that step up, 'cuz we ain't hard to find
Street kings in our prime you want us then come and try us

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ff2a9b01b9f9a4fcfcbf11899a0916b0

Hollywood Babylon - Lyrics - Gift Of Game - Crazytown

Title: Hollywood Babylon
Album: Gift Of Game
Artist: Crazytown
Composer(s): Seth Brooks Binzer, Bret Hadley Mazur, Oswald Priest

Lyric:
If you got an itch to catch some havoc
There's mayhem in the plastic
City of La La, I mean the land of holy Zsa Zsa
The wood is hot and you can spot the flocks of
People like sheep, those with dreadlocks to jocks with Reebok

Fleeing hard rocks, a La cafe
Bambatta flashy fashion imagine crashing
Bashes with bitches that be bad and
Wishin' for the fame and recognition
They on a mission for tough, baby

We like the twelve, my tribe is crazy deep
We got the beats that are hot
We like clinique foundation resonates when I speak
And if by chance, you catch it
Then listen, the wisdom
Epic, open hittin', choking up

You've done it now woken up
Giant scientist of hits that makes you jump like a lunatic
On pogo sticks, waving your fists
So, if you catching a fit, talkin' that shit
I don't really know but you better scram
Hurry in a double

It goes on, on and on and on
Hell raising Hollywood, welcome to Babylon
On and on and on and on
The party don't stop, till the mystery's gone
It goes on, I've seen it all, I'll see it again
I shake a lot of hands, but I ain't got a lot of friends
It goes on, on and on and on
Hell raising Hollywood, welcome to Babylon

B-b-bring it on, bring it on
To each other, to each other
Babylon, Babylon
It's I'm a, It's I'm a Alien, alien
We have a party I'm a in a
Whole word wide style

Live from the city of lights, sunny days and late nights
Dope, designer drugs, porn stars and bar fights
I drop, makes the bells rock, Mr. Shifty Shell shock
Call me the man of the hour in the land of the lost
Taking the money and the power
CXT, we hold our own all eyes on us
Crazy rise rain like brimstone kicking up dust
Grab the mic with a firm hold in a world of shattered goals

Pot holes, broke folks and bank roll
Pole position, daddy rolling, rolling causing havoc
So, ready set, I'm more than set
Like Morissette, to Maverick
Got a, she's got to have it, habit
Sick, I leave them stuck
I'm getting high for a living not giving a fuck

It goes on, on and on and on
Hell raising Hollywood, welcome to Babylon
On and on and on and on
The party don't stop, till the mystery's gone
It goes on, I've seen it all, I'll see it again
I shake a lot of hands, but I ain't got a lot of friends
It goes on, on and on and on
Hell raising Hollywood, welcome to Babylon

The political system, system
What they love will make us the victim, victim
Open up your ears and listen, listen
We living in this condition

I'm screaming out the call of the wild
I'm speaking in tongues
I am the child of the sun
The power of one
I beat the drums of the Crazy Town click
It's the third eye sitting on the tip

Of the pyramid flipped
Now I see a little shotty, illuminatti front
Dead bodies in my trunk
Unravelin' the source
I travel into self, you gauge my wage
And then you try to debate my wealth

The consequences lingerin' and fingerin' the perpetrators
Hey yo, my nature was bred on the cross fader
It's the 7th house, Armageddon trudger
Ready for death, it's the brimstone slugger

It goes on, on and on and on
Hell raising Hollywood, welcome to Babylon
On and on and on and on
The party don't stop, till the mystery's gone
It goes on, I've seen it all, I'll see it again
I shake a lot of hands, but I ain't got a lot of friends
It goes on, on and on and on
Hell raising Hollywood, welcome to Babylon

We gonna burn on, burn on, burn Babylon
Whether we gonna touch or we gonna beyond
I gonna burn on, burn on, burn Babylon
And never know who will get gonna stop

Hell raising Hollywood, welcome to Babylon
On and on and on and on
Hell raising Hollywood, welcome to Babylon
On and on and on and on
Hell raising Hollywood, welcome to Babylon
On and on and on and on
Hell raising Hollywood, plenty your money is gone

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8707b7bc81d3a8b583aee801f69b15d9

All A'S - Lyrics - Goodie Mob

Title: All A'S
Artist: Goodie Mob
Composer(s): C Gipp, D Sheats, T Burton, W Knighton, J Willimas, R Barnett

Lyric:
I got to feed the beat, the gat on the seat
Fakin' ain't these girls fake when they see they face in the paint
Mustard and mayonnaise and we smoke always
Passin' by these haters like we got all A's

I got to feed the beat, the gat on the seat
Fakin' ain't these girls fake when they see they face in the paint
Mustard and mayonnaise and we smoke always
Passin' by these haters like we got all A's

Say, say, say, say Crack, what's the word on the street?
Nuttin' but hard times, workin' this concrete
I'm gettin' dirty, looks from niggaz on the next street over
They was in my filthy, fiendin' gettin' closer

I'm in my seventy-nine, flyin'
Mobbed out so they can't see me when I'm ridin'
They slow me down, holla like we buddy buddy
But at the same time I know these motherfuckers wanna mug me

Okay gun play at the one-way one day witcha
But I'll do years if I bust these niggaz
Keep point four-five calibers of chrome
I'm, comin' forth to carry you home

I got to feed the beat, the gat on the seat
Fakin' ain't these girls fake when they see they face in the paint
Mustard and mayonnaise and we smoke always
Passin' by these haters like we got all A's

I got to feed the beat, the gat on the seat
Fakin' ain't these girls fake when they see they face in the paint
Mustard and mayonnaise and we smoke always
Passin' by these haters like we got all A's

Yo, well you damn right, dig it they call me Sugar Delight
Uh-ohh hoe, Willie cuttin' virgin broads tonight
Blowin' like a boss, that champion chief in cost
And oh, my dual exhaust will make your shit get lost

There's somethin' 'bout these guns that give these hoes asthma attacks
These are actual facts, I ain't been in no actual car-jacks
But let me tell you this, I'll burn a nigga ass up to a crisp
Ridin' with these two glocks, we gon' bounce on off on the new shocks

My nigga don't hate me 'cause I ain't hated but we related
No one includin' me, should be underestimated
But don't you dare ride through the SWATS without at least 30 shots
'Cause I'm tellin' ya, these Southern boys gon' get all they got

I got to feed the beat, the gat on the seat
Fakin' ain't these girls fake when they see they face in the paint
Mustard and mayonnaise and we smoke always
Passin' by these haters like we got all A's

I got to feed the beat, the gat on the seat
Fakin' ain't these girls fake when they see they face in the paint
Mustard and mayonnaise and we smoke always
Passin' by these haters like we got all A's

Pop it in, get to work, brains blow, [unverified]
Off the block before your carcass drop
Can't share nothin' with the niggeroles, stealin' socks
Out your cornbread dream too, if you got those, leavin' deaf hoes

Brown on the outside, pink in the middle
Ain't barrin' none hundred round draw
Nothin' under seventy-five and I get slick [unverified]
Takin' no prisoners cuffed, they die fightin' for they freedom

Every time son, rhymes too pretty'll get your mascara smeared
When they did, my buddy Spanky'll bust out in tears
The world would be a better place to live, if it was less queers
I still see, punk ass bitches, bitches

I got to feed the beat, the gat on the seat
Fakin' ain't these girls fake when they see they face in the paint
Mustard and mayonnaise and we smoke always
Passin' by these haters like we got all A's

I got to feed the beat, the gat on the seat
Fakin' ain't these girls fake when they see they face in the paint
Mustard and mayonnaise and we smoke always
Passin' by these haters like we got all A's

Get up off and give me room, activate, motivate
Y'all from the section where the straight shit, straight up off the top
Block for block, yo we got the [unverified], wait for days
Gone up off the Purple Haze, when you see me call me Mr. Gipp

Shoot 'em from the hip, every time I'm in my 84 Sedan Deville
Block me off and watch me peel, Big Boi grill ridin' through the park
On the weekend ain't no stoppin', keep it dippin', that's how we trippin'
Lookin' mean, you too clean behind the glass

Watch yo' ass, keep yo' elbows out the windows
And my hands upon the wood wheel, money in my socks
Lookin' out for the cops and for the haters got a fifty shot
Whatever you wanna call it, nigga what? What?

I got to feed the beat, the gat on the seat
Fakin' ain't these girls fake when they see they face in the paint
Mustard and mayonnaise and we smoke always
Passin' by these haters like we got all A's

I got to feed the beat, the gat on the seat
Fakin' ain't these girls fake when they see they face in the paint
Mustard and mayonnaise and we smoke always
Passin' by these haters like we got all A's

Now watch 'em slide like some finger lickin' chicken 'bout to start clickin'
Hoe better know who the true G's are, I'm the star, brand new car
Dope ki lyrical cascade height, SWATS type, mic soldier
Blowin' composer, chief of that Doja, told ya when I was older

I wanted to live the good life, money over that bull, got that pull
Stomach full, posse thick, niggaz wish at a young age
Goodie Mo.B., doin' they thang, I pray for change
And my players in this game, it's insane, how this 'caine

Is bringin' 'em pain, young'un doin' time, dyin' by this grind
ATL, fine this just how it's goin' down
And the sound, watch your mouth in this motherfuckin' Dirty South
Nigga check it out, dirty SWATS got spots

I got to feed the beat, the gat on the seat
Fakin' ain't these girls fake when they see they face in the paint
Mustard and mayonnaise and we smoke always
Passin' by these haters like we got all A's

I got to feed the beat, the gat on the seat
Fakin' ain't these girls fake when they see they face in the paint
Mustard and mayonnaise and we smoke always
Passin' by these haters like we got all A's

Play the MP3 online for free!

349e52a50a724c84f51964612cf6aa8f

The Ultimate - Lyrics - Artifact

Title: The Ultimate
Artist: Artifact
Composer(s): Blaizes Brown P Hendricks, Williams Workma

Lyric:
Transmitting live via satellite, hah
The one's and two's, to the three's
To the four's, to the five's, uhh

You know the time when we rock the spot
Artifacts, New Jeruz, catch wreck and get the props
You know the time when we rock the shit
Tame one and MC El we be the ultimate

We bring forth the swords in rap sports
Niggaz play the bench for us, overtime if niggaz wanna shine
Divine with the intricate shit, who wanna bring it
To the table able now it's stable on the disc

The Heineken bottle catcher, drops ya, slasher
Dat's the the bastard with the fastest ass capture
No moonwalk, my tune's talk all by they fuckin' lonely
Phone me home I'm in the middle like I'm monie

Love to do dubs on deck without a mic check
Collect no checks but catch wreck on sets
Deuce, deuce is loose P P P represent see
Def squad, boom squad and artifacts make three

Like Dennis Scott droppin' one for the wisdom
'Cause when I gets 'em, I'll be fuckin' up they system
Or temperature cheer when I appear from the mist
Priceless, ice diss and never see another Christmas

You play risk when you dealin' with the New Jeruz two blitz
Without the use of two clips, niggaz styles still be fluid
The cat, darer with the terror off hands
Without bands we rock spots in all lands

Nigs be playin' and we stand for the substance
Subject's the basement, MC's be patient
'Cause all that Russian save that shit for the dressing
B S we stand strong wack niggaz we addressin'

You know the time when we rock the spot
Artifacts, New Jeruz, catch wreck and get the props
You know the time when we rock the shit
Tame one and MC El we be the ultimate

You know the time when we rock the spot
Artifacts, New Jeruz, catch wreck and get the props
You know the time when we rock the shit
Tame one and MC El we be the ultimate

Test me, the best be, checkin' for my recipes
Mess with me and I'll be drainin' all your fuckin' energy
Galactic tactics match wits I'm from the bricks
I used to catch a switch from any walk by bitch

But now I'm to the break like disc jocks, dis rock is hot
Got props and plus bust shots for what I got
Don't sniff shit but snot hops, you better watch your snot box
I'll diss you, then I'll clear the air like Scott tissue

The issue got a barcode on funk mode
So now I pack a truckload of skunk, for the underground chumps
'Cause I bumps in any system, who dissed 'em?
Watch me back them up from all the way from New Jeru to Manhattan

Satin and silk, kill the best built
I guess the milk was no good, so now I'm classified a true hood
Check this nigga, live on Kodak tits
Or bust a pimp, 'cause I'm not a boogaloo shrimp

Tame one the Jesus and the Judas
'Cause when I hit the Buddhas
My problem's manifest is deep rooted

You know the time when we rock the spot
Artifacts, New Jeruz, catch wreck and get the props
You know the time when we rock the shit
Tame one and MC El we be the ultimate

You know the time when we rock the spot
Artifacts, New Jeruz, catch wreck and get the props
You know the time when we rock the shit
Tame one and MC El we be the ultimate

MC, universal no rehearsal on tap with rap so
Magnificent sufficient all that tall facts
From the six footer, in slang I be the gooder, goodest
Best put to rest acts that's less

Sub-regular wreckster, prefer tracks to measure
Size up, MC's that need to wise up, fuckin' they lives up
Urban survivalist, live with this, closed style
Tribalist, that gets, all up in your shit

For all reasons, number one you're sleepin'
Speakin' like a deacon catch the drops my props leakin'
Seekin' on the deep end, sinkin' while I'm thinkin'
Of ways, to slay my competition without blinkin'

The ink's on the sheet with rhymes that are unique
Complete batter, astoundin' feats yo it don't matter
Capitalize, while I'm, categorized
The G L to the tame to the O N E

You know the time when we rock the spot
Artifacts, New Jeruz, catch wreck and get the props
You know the time when we rock the shit
Tame one and MC El we be the ultimate, ultimate

U-u-ultimate, u-u-ultimate, u-u-ultimate
U-u-ultimate, u-u-ultimate

Play the MP3 online for free!

3cd90b9da067a88ae4f53491733320df

The Ultimate (Showbiz Remix) - Lyrics - Artifact

Title: The Ultimate (Showbiz Remix)
Artist: Artifact
Composer(s): Blaizes Brown P Hendricks, Williams Workma

Lyric:
Transmitting live via satellite, hah
The one's and two's, to the three's
To the four's, to the five's, uhh

You know the time when we rock the spot
Artifacts, New Jeruz, catch wreck and get the props
You know the time when we rock the shit
Tame one and MC El we be the ultimate

We bring forth the swords in rap sports
Niggaz play the bench for us, overtime if niggaz wanna shine
Divine with the intricate shit, who wanna bring it
To the table able now it's stable on the disc

The Heineken bottle catcher, drops ya, slasher
Dat's the the bastard with the fastest ass capture
No moonwalk, my tune's talk all by they fuckin' lonely
Phone me home I'm in the middle like I'm monie

Love to do dubs on deck without a mic check
Collect no checks but catch wreck on sets
Deuce, deuce is loose P P P represent see
Def squad, boom squad and artifacts make three

Like Dennis Scott droppin' one for the wisdom
'Cause when I gets 'em, I'll be fuckin' up they system
Or temperature cheer when I appear from the mist
Priceless, ice diss and never see another Christmas

You play risk when you dealin' with the New Jeruz two blitz
Without the use of two clips, niggaz styles still be fluid
The cat, darer with the terror off hands
Without bands we rock spots in all lands

Nigs be playin' and we stand for the substance
Subject's the basement, MC's be patient
'Cause all that Russian save that shit for the dressing
B S we stand strong wack niggaz we addressin'

You know the time when we rock the spot
Artifacts, New Jeruz, catch wreck and get the props
You know the time when we rock the shit
Tame one and MC El we be the ultimate

You know the time when we rock the spot
Artifacts, New Jeruz, catch wreck and get the props
You know the time when we rock the shit
Tame one and MC El we be the ultimate

Test me, the best be, checkin' for my recipes
Mess with me and I'll be drainin' all your fuckin' energy
Galactic tactics match wits I'm from the bricks
I used to catch a switch from any walk by bitch

But now I'm to the break like disc jocks, dis rock is hot
Got props and plus bust shots for what I got
Don't sniff shit but snot hops, you better watch your snot box
I'll diss you, then I'll clear the air like Scott tissue

The issue got a barcode on funk mode
So now I pack a truckload of skunk, for the underground chumps
'Cause I bumps in any system, who dissed 'em?
Watch me back them up from all the way from New Jeru to Manhattan

Satin and silk, kill the best built
I guess the milk was no good, so now I'm classified a true hood
Check this nigga, live on Kodak tits
Or bust a pimp, 'cause I'm not a boogaloo shrimp

Tame one the Jesus and the Judas
'Cause when I hit the Buddhas
My problem's manifest is deep rooted

You know the time when we rock the spot
Artifacts, New Jeruz, catch wreck and get the props
You know the time when we rock the shit
Tame one and MC El we be the ultimate

You know the time when we rock the spot
Artifacts, New Jeruz, catch wreck and get the props
You know the time when we rock the shit
Tame one and MC El we be the ultimate

MC, universal no rehearsal on tap with rap so
Magnificent sufficient all that tall facts
From the six footer, in slang I be the gooder, goodest
Best put to rest acts that's less

Sub-regular wreckster, prefer tracks to measure
Size up, MC's that need to wise up, fuckin' they lives up
Urban survivalist, live with this, closed style
Tribalist, that gets, all up in your shit

For all reasons, number one you're sleepin'
Speakin' like a deacon catch the drops my props leakin'
Seekin' on the deep end, sinkin' while I'm thinkin'
Of ways, to slay my competition without blinkin'

The ink's on the sheet with rhymes that are unique
Complete batter, astoundin' feats yo it don't matter
Capitalize, while I'm, categorized
The G L to the tame to the O N E

You know the time when we rock the spot
Artifacts, New Jeruz, catch wreck and get the props
You know the time when we rock the shit
Tame one and MC El we be the ultimate, ultimate

U-u-ultimate, u-u-ultimate, u-u-ultimate
U-u-ultimate, u-u-ultimate

Play the MP3 online for free!

d7302bb41a7b1157e035b9b64e719a83