You'Ll Never Find Another Love Like Mine - Lyrics - Lou Rawls

Title: You'Ll Never Find Another Love Like Mine
Artist: Lou Rawls
Composer(s): Leon Huff, Kenneth Gamble

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

Lyric:
You'll never find, as long as you live
Someone who loves you tender like I do
You'll never find, no matter where you search
Someone who cares about you the way I do
Whoa, I'm not braggin' on myself, baby
But I'm the one who loves you
And there's no one else, no-oh-oh one else

You'll never find, it'll take the end of all time
Someone to understand you like I do
You'll never find the rhythm, the rhyme
All the magic we shared, just us two
Whoa, I'm not tryin' to make you stay, baby
But I know some how, some day, some way

You are
(You're gonna miss my lovin')
You're gonna miss my lovin'
(You're gonna miss my lovin')
You're gonna miss my lovin'
(You're gonna miss my lovin')
You're gonna miss, you're gonna miss my love
(Miss my love)

Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh
(You're gonna miss my lovin')
Late in the midnight hour, baby
(You're gonna miss my lovin')
When it's cold outside
(You're gonna miss my lovin')
You're gonna miss, you're gonna miss my love
(Miss my love)

You'll never find another love like mine
Someone who needs you like I do
You'll never see what you've found in me
You'll keep searching and searching your whole life through
Whoa, I don't wish you no bad luck, baby
But there's no ifs and buts or maybes

You're gonna miss my
(You're gonna miss my lovin')
You're gonna miss my lovin'
(You're gonna miss my lovin')
I know you're gonna my lovin'
(You're gonna miss my lovin')
You're gonna miss, you're gonna miss my love
(Miss my love)

Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh
(You're gonna miss my lovin')
Late in the midnight hour, baby
(You're gonna miss my lovin')
When it gets real cold outside
(You're gonna miss my lovin')
I know, I know that you are gonna miss my love
(Miss my love)

Let me tell you that you're gonna miss my lovin'
(You're gonna miss my lovin')
Yes you will, baby
(You're gonna miss my lovin')
When I'm long gon
(You're gonna miss my lovin')
I know, I know, I know that you are gonna miss my love
(Miss my love)
You're gonna miss my lovin'

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36688764a13a7dd424f9f497b7283bde

Regular Girl - Lyrics - Sex Style - Kool Keith

Title: Regular Girl
Album: Sex Style
Artist: Kool Keith
Composer(s): Kurt Matlin, Keith Thornton

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

Lyric:
Yo Money
Yeah, whassup Kool Keith?
Yo, that girl Kadiva gon' come to your house with blonde hair and boots
Tell her rent a cheap room on Sunset Boulevard for $16.95
I ain't tryin' to get no Medrian no Marriott or all that higher stuff
Yo, we can go on cheaper man
I know somethin' for like $10.99 man
It's a hotel with roaches in it and everything
It's almost near skid row

Buttnaked! Girls walk Sunset with they ass out
I start Cadillacs with suits, wear my mask out
With brims tilted, I finger pop the whole block
Make freaks wear wigs, and put the rubbers on my cock

You see me out there, with big balls like Rosie Grier
Players cream, I pull panties out your wet dreams
Get deep in cracks, and wash 'em out like Mr. Clean
Bring your Massengil, the public think I'm very ill

Like Jimmy Z, posin' naked for the FCC
I'm not no basketball star, your girl watch me pee
Clock me like cops, every time my sperm drops
She's in my face with thongs, chewin' lollipops

I'll hit that butt on the low, just like Monica
Play three tunes and let her blow on my harmonica
I'm out here, you rollin' fake in Union Square
I'll make you go blond, brunettes runnin' down they hair

Regular girl, is so boring
(Get out my face)
Regular girl, you never turn me on
(Work the latex)
Regular girl, is so boring
(Get out my face)
Regular girl, you never turn me on
(Work the latex)

You saw my porno flick, nutsacs banged up on your TV
Your girl pulled her panties off real quick, tryin' to see me
She wants an autograph, a part with my anal staff
You scream test for AIDS, stretch marks make me laugh

Sign your contracts for Willie, smoke a big Phillie
I'm too old for young girls, gigglin' actin' silly
I'm Sugar Daddy, your aunt gon' be worried duke
Your moms at my hotel, her bra is real cute

Dressed in G-strings, she's scopin' me, eatin' fruit
She licked my balls, I came like Niagara Falls
Brought her tittes to Prince show instead of Lou Rawls
Her pelvis grind, she smile show me pantylines

I'll smack that butt, the pro spank at different times
Like Max kind of hardcore it's on the dirty floor
Make you scream for stiff rods, you don't want no more
Penetration, I don't do that on your menustration

I want movies back, you smile, addin' lubrication
You know your steelo, orgies doin' three people
Kodak action, Black Tail, butt satisfaction
You lookin' good sweet cheeks

Regular girl, is so boring
(Get out my face)
Regular girl, you never turn me on
(Work the latex)
Regular girl, is so boring
(Get out my face)
Regular girl, you never turn me on
(Work the latex)

I turned the Lakers off, you can't stop my afterparty
A fifth of vodka and latex, drink your Bacardi
I serve it well through tubes and watch your rectum swell
Service your clits with steel, machines keep it real

Got that ramrod, that's pumpin' through your back hard
You be seein' cum stains on Sunset Boulevard
My rubber send streaks and heels off your girl's feets
You not psychedelic wimp, I'm still your girl's pimp

That's part interest, magnificent, mind power
I got nuts that clean kill, let me take my shower
Wash off my pubic and let the females do my nails
Watch naked legs in chairs and enter soft tails
Wear stockin' caps with maps and shoft for soft cracks

Lift off your hairpeace, while milk squirts up on your weave
You know my skin needs butter, your cheeks are popcorn
I get deep, go run in butt like the unicorn

Rodeo anus banger, quick with the middle finger
Her tampons drop down between her Maxi
I left tips for cocked up legs in the taxi
Yo, take her home cab driver, here's her panties

Regular girl, is so boring
(Get out my face)
Regular girl, you never turn me on
(Work the latex)
Regular girl, is so boring
(Get out my face)
Regular girl, you never turn me on
(Work the latex)

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5909b35ab0d8917fbc34b49d54976e26

Whatever You Want - Lyrics - Dj Clue

Title: Whatever You Want
Artist: Dj Clue
Composer(s): Chaka Khan, R Fisher, R Mcnair, W Notise, G Spivey, L Jones, Ray (Jr) Parker, W Lewis, T Smith

Lyric:
Fears real fears
The universal Flipmode Squad
Known to every existing life form as the Imperial 6
Has formed an alliance with the official Cluemannatti
Whatever you want, we do whatever you want

Yo it's time to make these moves, me and my Flipmode crew
Baby sham spit the hot shit just for you
Make you get off your seat so you can cop the clue
Q.B.C. and killer kids never obey these rules

That's why we roll deep and always carry the two
Smack a nigga face, fuck up his mood, excuse you
When we perform, bitches stand still like statues
Borrow this game, so y'all can proceed to move

Uh-uh the ruggedest thing as far as chics go
Watch nigga grow away faster than a pit bull
I tell them all they ain't got nothing for 'em
Platinum album with no singing in the chorus

You get ate like you was peanut butter and swarma
Go tell your peoples I got a shitty karma Brick City
Home of the crush MC's and my shit be the joint
Like I was Black Eyed Peas

Wiggle how you want, shake it how you want
When you get a lot of money, spend it how you want
We always got the new, always coming through
Buck wild, do whatever that y'all wanna do

Wiggle how you want, shake it how you want
When we get a lot of money, spend it how we want
We always got the new, always coming through
With my nigga Clue, rapping with my Flipmode crew

Ramp, I'm still jig, I'm in the party taking a swig
I'm rich, yo I gotta think big
Holding down the bar, me and Busta Bus, Lord Have and Spliff Star
Driving foreign cars

Open club speed, Sham and Rah Digga had the weed
Pass the duche that all a nigga need
Twenty to one, y'all know the whole gamble
All my life I had to scramble what

I be that thug back in the club, puffin' on Bud, chics eyein' me
Niggaz through the street show me love
Gettin' paper now, Bill Gates is my neighbor now
Chics all flavors now, 'cause a nigga kinda famous now

This here, my year turn millionaire
If it's well, cop a beach house, kick a seashell
If I got it, I'ma flaunt it, that Brooklyn shit, I'm on it
Spliff Star, America's nightmare most wanted

Wiggle how you want, shake it how you want
When you get a lot of money, spend it how you want
We always got the new, always coming through
Buck wild, do whatever that y'all wanna do

Wiggle how you want, shake it how you want
When we get a lot of money, spend it how we want
We always got the new, always coming through
With my nigga Clue, rapping with my Flipmode crew

You want beef, my name Beef Steak Charles
With deeper frequency than Lou Rawls drop like Niagara Falls
Soft like Quaker Oats whippin' in speed boats
Make y'all niggaz ba-ah-ah like a bunch of billygoats

Ba-ah-ah back to you, while you take notes
Rippin' shit down from the arena to parade floats, yo
Yo, Flipmode Squad lock your house up
Quick to talk shit, nigga we lock your mouths up

Landlord confusing you chumps doing it up off rhymes
Scarring, shooting up the club like pharmaceutical drugs
You stupid as fuck, doing 'em up, losing your blood
It's a cold world, with beautiful sluts screwing for ones

King of the jungle, swing on a humble
Stay grippin' on bundles, scattered in pieces, chatted with Jesus
Niggaz salute the dead and gone, the dead and gone
Flipmode and Desert Storm, Desert Storm

Yo, wiggle how you want, shake it how you want
When you get a lot of money, spend it how you want
We always got the new, always coming through
Buck wild, do whatever that y'all wanna do

Wiggle how you want, shake it how you want
When we get a lot of money, spend it how we want
We always got the new, always coming through
With my nigga Clue, rapping with my Flipmode crew

Wiggle how you want, shake it how you want
When you get a lot of money, spend it how you want
We always got the new, always coming through
Buck wild, do whatever that y'all wanna do

Wiggle how you want, shake it how you want
When we get a lot of money, spend it how we want
We always got the new, always coming through
With my nigga Clue, rapping with my Flipmode crew

DJ Clue
It only gets better motherfuckers
Flipmode the Imperial, Cluemannatti
Do whatever the fuck y'all wanna do

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f3fb9b9806e2acf70645bd785a73d6cd

Hip Hop Hooray - Lyrics - 19 Naughty III - Naughty By Nature

Title: Hip Hop Hooray
Album: 19 Naughty III
Artist: Naughty By Nature
Composer(s): Keir Gist, Christopher H. Jasper, O'Kelly Isley, Vincent Vinnie Brown, Anthony Criss, Ernie Isley, Ronald Isley, Rudolph Isley, Marvin Isley

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

Lyric:
Hip hop hooray ho, hey, ho, hey, ho, hey, ho

You drew a picture of my morning
But you couldn't make my day, hey
I'm rockin' and you're yawning
But you never look my way, hey

I'm lickin' down you darlin'
In every single way, hey
Your funny flow is foreign
And a Green Card's on the way

This ain't got shit to do wit shampoo
But watch your Head & Shoulders
Brother older bold enough to fold ya I told ya
A raid afraid of what I made of played
Plus a funky fit so save ya flips
Plus tricks for that music in the monkey bit

Triggas from the grill town ill town some ask how it feels now
The deal is that we're real so we're still around
Don't lamp wit a freestyle phantom ain't tryin' to be handsome
Shrinkin' what ya thinkin' 'cause I'm vampin'

I live and die for hip hop
This is hip hop for today
I give props to hip hop
So hip hop hooray, ho, hey, ho, hey, ho, hey, ho
Hip hop hooray, ho, hey, ho, hey, ho, hey, ho

You heard a lot about a brother gaining mo' ground
Being low down I do the showdown wit' any little ho round, no
I wanna know who you're believing through you're funny reasons
Even when I'm sleeping you think I'm cheatin'

You said, "I know you're Mr. O P P man"
Yo PP Man won't only see me man
You should've known when I hid in the step
There I was waited a bit and I consider the rep heck

I did your partner 'cause she's hot as a baker
'Cause I'm Naughty By Nature not 'cause I hate cha
You put your heart in a part of a part that spreads apart
And forgot that I forgave ya when you had a spark

You try to act like something really big is missing
Even though my name's Graffiti written on your kitten
I love black women always and disrespect ain't the way
Let's start a family today

Hip hop hooray, ho, hey, ho, hey, ho, hey, ho
Hip hop hooray, ho, hey, ho, hey, ho, hey, ho
Hip hop hip hip hop hip hip hop hooray

There's many hungry hip hoppers
One reason hip hop's tip top today
'Cause I ain't bailing no hey ain't choppin' no crops
But still grownin' ever day

Here's a thunder sound from the wonders found
From the underground town down the hill
Feel how ill town drown smiles to frowns
Snatchin' crowns from clowns beat downs are found

Don't know me don't come around
Tippy tippy pause, tippy tippy pause
Sometimes creepin' up I eat em up
Your style is older than Lou Rawls

Peace to this one and that one and them
That way I shout out and I didn't miss one friend
Fools get foolish neither them or Parker Loose Lewis
You could have crews wit shoes and can't step to us

Some kitty purr I call 'em sir too looking for her crew
Any trick that this gets a curfew
I put my projects for boots step through troops and leave proof
My problem solvers name is Mook

I hittin' woodys in a hoody, peace to Jesette, Joete, Jo Jo, Gene
And every hood gee, that's right my fight is ill
Peace goes to L.O.N.S. and quest, nice and smooth and Cypress Hill
I live and die for hip hop, this is hip hop of today
I give props to hip hop

So hip hop hooray, ho, hey, ho, hey, ho, hey, ho
Hip hop hooray, ho, hey, ho, hey, ho, hey, ho
Smooth it out now

Now
Now
Now
...

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715f286bc7f6331ddfb958cdc83ae6b2

Ya Mama - Lyrics - Pharcyde

Title: Ya Mama
Artist: Pharcyde
Composer(s): Trevant Hardson, Emandu Wilcox, John Martinez, Derek Stewart, Romye Robinson

Lyric:
Yo man, you gotta be, you know, you gotta be on to die, man
What's up with that? Yo bro-shot, yeah, word up bro-shot
Uh, we need some brothers to be, uh, like droppin' knowledge
Ay man, why don't you quit talkin' all the stuff
And do something about it? You know what I'm sayin?

Oh, you talking about, kick some, uh, knowledge
Yeah, well you do that like right now
And some wisdom for the people, what's up with that? Okay, I got it
(Brothers and sisters)

Ya mom is so fat
(How fat is she?)
Ya mama is so big and fat that she can get busy
With twenty-two burritos, but times are rough
I seen her in the back of Taco Bell with handcuffs

The sad fact
(What?)
Ya mama smokes crack
(What?)
She got a burning yearning and there's no turning back
Her knuckles drag down to the ground where she walk
Spit comes out that bitch mouth when she talk

Naked on a mountain top, tootin on a flizoot
Ridin on a horse drinking whisky out a bizoot
She's got the wings and teeth of an African bat
Her middle name is Mudbone and on top of all that

Ya mama got a glass eye with the fish in it
(Ya mama got a glass eye with the fish in it)
Ya mama got a glass eye with the fish in it
(Ya mama, ya mama, ya mama)

Ya mama look like she's been in the dryer with some rocks
With the big bust nose sucking dirt out of socks
Held up the ice-cream truck with a slingshot
She grabbed a bag of Cheese Corn and a soda pop

Ya mama root 'n' toot and stole my loot and my suit
She may have the muscles, but no, she's not cute
She's not pretty, oh what a pity, got the glass titty
Filled up with Kool-Aid, just for the kiddies

On a cliff butt naked, tootin' on a flute
Ridin' on a horse drinkin whisky out a boot
She's got the teeth and the wings of an African bat
Her middle name is Mudbone and on top of all that

Ya mama got the wooden legs with real feet
(Ya mama got the wooden legs with real feet)
I said ya mama got the wooden legs with real feet
(Ya mama, ya mama, ya mama)

Watch out, I'm thinkin about your mother to a funky beat
I went to your house, and she licked me on the cheek
I said, "Excuse me, lady, but I remember seeing you at the Palladium

Way back in September 'cause you was beatboxin' for Lou Rawls
In some bright red boxer drawers"
You said ya moms was pretty and young
But she's old as dirt and got hair on her tongue

Ya moms, ya moms, she uses Brut
And I saw her ridin a horsey drinking whisky out a boot
She's got the wings and teeth of an African bat
Her middle name is Mudbone, and on top of all that

Ya mama's got a peg leg with a kickstand
(Ya mama's got a peg leg with a kickstand)
I said ya mama's got a peg leg with a kickstand
(Ya mama, ya mama, ya mama)

Aw, ya mom is so fat
(How fat is she?)
We rode up on her back to get some burgers from Wendy's
And her skates went flat, I got stuck in her butt crack
They thought I was lost but I was caught by the G-strap

Heaven forbid a giant fart would give way
'Cause that would blow me round the world in a day
We drove into the drive-in and she didn't have to pay
Because we dressed her up to look just like a Chevrolet

Naked on a mountain top tootin on a flizoot
Ridin' on a horse, drinkin whisky out a bizoot
With the wings and the teeth of an African bat, bat
Her middle name is Mudbone and on top of all that

Ya mama's got an afro, with a chin strap
(Ya mama's got an afro, with a chin strap)
Ya mama's got an afro, with a chin strap
(Ya mama, ya mama, ya mama)

Ya mama got snake skin teeth
Ya mama wears coat hangers for earrings , dude she looks like
Ya mama was making sex threats to Ricky Bell and shit
Ya mama jacked the Kool-aid man for a sip, nigga
Ya mama was walking down on Sunset with a 99 cent sign on her back
(You're a sellout)
Ya mama's a sellout nigga, ya mama

Nigga, ya mama did a pop tune nigga
Ya mama's glasses are so thick
She look into a map and see people wavin' at her
Your mother got an Ouija board on her back

Sidney with EQ and everything what he be sayin'
His mother be hooked, fishin' with a hook
And reel at the frozen food section
Tre's mama got Playdough teeth

Ya mother be eatin' daisies like Now and Laters and shit
Ya mama's an extra on the Simpsons and shit
Ya mama's so fat you can't even see her legs
It just looks like she's just gliding across the floor

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11bd8fffe892b482bec8a77bb454a11f

Club Song - Lyrics - Rest Is History - Jin

Title: Club Song
Album: Rest Is History
Artist: Jin
Composer(s): Jin Auyeung, Justin Smith

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

Lyric:
{Aye yo Jin there's a couple things you gotta have
When you doin' ya club record
I got you don't worry, "Guru play the beat"
I always wanted to say that on a record
You gotta have that, you gotta have a ho, ho, ho
Gotta have two of those, hit 'em with a woo, woo, woo
I like that, thats not bad, come on
oh yea, you know what else you need?
Just blaze}

You can't help but love the way that he flow
When he leave the club ladies be like
"Did you see which way did he go?"
Battle raps are cool but not for radio though
When my single drop, I'm a charge like eighty a show
If you droppin' with me get ready for a pitfall
When my shit hit stores, I'm a charge a bit more
Man, I'm tryin' to corp my toys in two
And stay away from the boys in blue
It's 'cause I'm gettin' dough, the beast are mad at me
These cops are jokes like Police Academy
Too much stress and I ain't blew up yet
Went from the seven train to the Lex, got you upset
I never stress over a chick, I'm slick like Lou Rawls
If I was Papasmurf, you couldn't give me blue balls
Thick dick playa, rip through walls
Balls so large, it couldn't fit in two jars

This my club song 'cause I said club
Yo, this my club song, this my club song
If you wanna blow then you gotta make a club song
This my club song, did he say club?
Yo, this my club song, this my club song
Everybody got one so I had to make a club song

Throw ya hands high reach for the sky
For my piece of the pie, I'm a beast, I ain't speakin' no lie
I'm frequently high, freak a bunch of freaks
In the back of the jeep, Alpines reachin' it's peak
I put them to sleep, ain't no reason to speak
Why I creep, got 'em sayin' that they'll leave in a week
Poof be gone, I won't miss you at all
Now you sayin', I did you wrong, I ain't Dich Whedo
Gotta passion, no for gassin' hoes
Live my life like everyday's a fashion show
I ain't playin', you know what I'm sayin'
I wasn't talkin' 'bout ya I.Q. when I told you, gimme some brains
Fam, you better play your part
'Cause ya girl, she 'bout to have a change of heart
When I come through, find me in the cut like the stitch
Gettin' wild love 'cause I'm Rick James bitch

This my club song 'cause I said club
Yo, this my club song, this my club song
If you wanna blow then you gotta make a club song
This my club song, did he say club?
Yo, this my club song, this my club song
Everybody got one so I had to make a club song

I'm playin' Play Station braggin'
In the back of a gray station wagon
I need ya jeans saggin'
Ain't used to the club, what am I thinkin'?
Only tunnel I been to, is the Holland and the Lincoln
Problem when I'm drinkin', I get tipsy easy
Leave the bartender a hundred dollar tip, believe me
Shorty on the dance floor, down to get inside of it
Said she,"Celibate" I said,"Cool, I only buy a bit"

This my club song 'cause I said club
Yo, this my club song, this my club song
If you wanna blow then you gotta make a club song
This my club song, did he say club?
Yo, this my club song, this my club song
Everybody got one so I had to make a club song

I'm in here pimpin' fam
Why else would I walk up limpin', man?
And me bein' the pimp, I am
Shorty order what you like 'cause it's on me

I'm in here pimpin' fam
Why else would I walk up limpin', man?
And me bein' the pimp, I am
Shorty order what you like 'cause it's on me

This my club song 'cause I said club
Yo, this my club song, this my club song
If you wanna blow then you gotta make a club song
This my club song, did he say club?
Yo, this my club song, this my club song
Everybody got one so I had to make a club song

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999b79f563daa60cf0bfae6427acad7e