Money, Power, Respect - Lyrics - Lil' Kim

Title: Money, Power, Respect
Artist: Lil' Kim
Composer(s): David Styles, Jason T Phillips, Deric Micheal Angelettie, Sean Combs, Sean D Jacobs, Earl Simmons, James Herb Smith, Ronald Anthony Lawrence, Kimberly Jones

Lyric:
See I believe in money, power, and respect
First You get the money
Then you get the muthafuckin, power
After you get the fuckin' power muthafuckas will respect you

It's the key to life
Money, power, and respect
Whatchu' need in life
Money, power, and respect
When you eatin' right

Money, power, and respect
Help you sleep at night
You'll see the light
It's the key to life

Money, power, and respect
Whatchu' need in life
Money, power, and respect
When you eatin' right

Money, power, and respect
Money, power, and respect
Money, power, and respect

Ayo my whole clique bout it, 'bout it
We take yours while you pout about it
Truck, step out the whore's wanna' crowd around it
You could see me on optimum TV

Go in your bathroom turn the light out, scream
Bloody Mary, 1, 2, 3
Sheek ain't your usual friend
About to setchu' up like Kaiser and walk straight at the end

I'm done wit' ice and charms
I'm tryin' my whole casket when I'm gone
Pull up wit' class on the don'
Once I meet em' I greet 'em

Kiss his feet for freedom
Tell 'em thank you lord
'Cuz on Earth I was gettin' bored
Now resurrect me back to this cat called Sheek

So I can make this album
And get back the cats that's weak
Two thirty, six two
Me bust for you that's like a cat vs a pitbull

Gun, know clip full, keep hunger
And plan for the future, 'cuz you figure
You gon' be older
Way longer than you gon' be younger

It's the key to life
Money, power, and respect
Whatchu' need in life
Money, power, and respect
When you eatin' right

Money, power, and respect
Help you sleep at night
You'll see the light
It's the key to life

Money, power, and respect
Whatchu' need in life
Money, power, and respect
When you eatin' right

Money, power, and respect
Money, power, and respect
Money, power, and respect
It's the key to life

Only time could tell how the clock ticks
I'm really loved here but I'm still a hostage
Two personalities check the posture
Smoke out the mouth clear out the nostrils

You think of death but the life seem scary
I'm past the graveyard seein' people Hail Mary
I ain't chillin til' I'm out parachutin'
Race my man in mountain climbin' for about ten diamonds

Twenty five thousand a piece
Fuck streets
Tryin' to own the island
Forget about wilin'

Try ridin' in the car that be glidin'
If I showed you where I lived you would think I was hidin'
Sling dick to chicks that don't speak English
Wake up in Trinidad, like fuckin' 'em rich
Come back, private jet live on set
If you could shit gold like you split the decks

It's the key to life
Money, power, and respect
Whatchu' need in life
Money, power, and respect
When you eatin' right

Money, power, and respect
Help you sleep at night
You'll see the light
It's the key to life

Money, power, and respect
Whatchu' need in life
Money, power, and respect
When you eatin' right

Money, power, and respect
Money, power, and respect
Money, power, and respect

Yo nutin' but the hotness
Whenever we drop this
Monotonous for y'all to keep hatin'
'Cuz y'all never gon' stop us
I keep my rocks spotless, and my hoes topless
Take time try to figure out who da Lox is

Fear no one
Kick rhymes like Shoguns
You scared to blow one
Get robbed wit' your own gun

If I don't respect you I'm ah check you
And if I don't kiss you I'm a peck you
Right before I wet' chu
I sneeze on tracks an' bless you

I'm special
And if you like workin' out
then I'm gon' stretch you
Husslin' is dead but we still get red

Turn the spots in the bakeries to get back bread
And y'all said my monies spent
But it's in the Bent
So when the feds come the dogs can't get a scent

For my story, self-explanatory
that I'm the hottest thing on the street
An' yall ain't got nutin' for me

It's the key to life
Money, power, and respect
Whatchu' need in life
Money, power, and respect
When you eatin' right

Money, power, and respect
Help you sleep at night
You'll see the light
It's the key to life

Money, power, and respect
Whatchu' need in life
Money, power, and respect
When you eatin' right

Money, power, and respect
Money, power, and respect
Money, power, and respect

Arf, arf
This is a beat that I can freak to
just drop the reals
Plus a nigga wit' the ill
Y'all niggas know my skills

Ass from the grills get em' up
split em' up, wet em' up
And watch em' come get em' up
Set em' up

When you do dirt, you get dirt
Bitch, I'll make your shit hurt
Step back like I did worse
This ain't no fucking game

You think I'm playin', till you layin'
To where? The junkyard decayin'
Mom's at home prayin'
That chu comin' home

But chu not, 'cuz you sittin' up in the trunk startin to rot
And hell is hot, I know because I'm here now Baby
It's goin' down baby
Git the full pound baby

And let off up in a nigga
especially if he think he bigga'
than my muthafuckin' trigga'
Did I? Can I get my? Is it gone?
DMX represent for one time, it's on

It's the key to life
Money, power, and respect
Whatchu' need in life
Money, power, and respect
When you eatin' right

Money, power, and respect
Help you sleep at night
You'll see the light
It's the key to life

Money, power, and respect
Whatchu' need in life
Money, power, and respect
When you eatin' right

Money, power, and respect
Money, power, and respect
Money, power, and respect

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21a0b67742eea3a0dd92acf7425d2899

Check (Let'S Ride) - Lyrics - U Gotta Feel Me - Lil' Flip

Title: Check (Let'S Ride)
Album: U Gotta Feel Me
Artist: Lil' Flip
Composer(s): Wesley Eric Weston, Andy Thelusma

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

Lyric:
I got my converse check, my pistol check
My vest, plus I got VS1's around my neck
The respect come first then the money and the power
We got more cake to make, let's ride

I got my converse check, my pistol check
My vest, plus I got VS1's around my neck
The respect come first then the money and the power
We got more cake to make, let's ride

They thought I'd be another one hit wonder
Until I pulled up to the V M A's in one big Hummer
You know I'm a big stunna just like Baby Fool
Brand new Bentley Fanna baby blue

Uh Deano hit me now I got cheddar to make
You thinking Condo I'm thinking fifty eight to a state
You got your crib on a hill, I got my crib on a lake
What, where I'm from we like our music screwed up

Uh, the blades chop we use jewelry and stage props
We hate cops 'cause everyday we get stopped
For ridin' spinners plus they know I got my pistol on me
You try to jack me for my 'lac they gon' miss you homey

I got my converse check, my pistol check
My vest, plus I got VS1's around my neck
The respect come first then the money and the power
We got more cake to make, let's ride

I got my converse check, my pistol check
My vest, plus I got VS1's around my neck
The respect come first then the money and the power
We got more cake to make, let's ride

Yo Will-Lean let's roll man, let's ride
We gotta go homey, let's ride
You know how we do it though, let's ride
Let's ride, let's ride

Uh I'm too street to go pop but I pop heat in the street
I'm not braggin', G-5 wagon when I speed in my jeep
Customized, bubble eyed with DVD's in the head
Rest look I hope you potty-trained 'cause the tech'll leave you wet

Let's make a bet I stay on top and keep a new whip off the lot
Fifty weeks on the billboard dog I'm too hot
But when I do drop you better move out 'cause I'm comin'
Niggaz like roaches when the lights on they runnin'

Ten years and gunnin' just like M.O.P
Fuck strugglin-I get my publishin ain't shit for free
I get that big bread, I'm making big chips
You get killed at the beginnin' I get them big strips

I got my converse check, my pistol check
My vest, plus I got VS1's around my neck
The respect come first then the money and the power
We got more cake to make, let's ride

I got my converse check, my pistol check
My vest, plus I got VS1's around my neck
The respect come first then the money and the power
We got more cake to make, let's ride

I'm a diplomat like Jim Jones, next els and sprint phones
I'm try na own ten homes yo rap money been gone
I'm harder then y'all better yet I'm smarter then y'all
I don't need yo ass nigga-regardless I ball

I got that hot shit that you bump in yo drop top shit
Bentley cocked hit the old folks like stop it
You know I drop hits every time I spit fire
Who ever told you I ain't ballin'-a damn lier

I got my converse check, my pistol check
My vest, plus I got VS1's around my neck
The respect come first then the money and the power
We got more cake to make, let's ride

I got my converse check, my pistol check
My vest, plus I got VS1's around my neck
The respect come first then the money and the power
We got more cake to make, let's ride

Haha let's ride you know I make the music
You can ride to, get high to, get fly to
Yeah like them Ruff Ryder niggaz
I make that shit you can ride-or-die to

Holly at ya boy, Houston we have a problem
Red spider on the B, we gettin' cheddar now
We on another level now haha

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0f048ff33179c1d21d8707da28d33b33

Money Gets - Lyrics - Mac

Title: Money Gets
Artist: Mac
Composer(s): Percy Miller, Mckinley Jr Phipps, O'Dell Vickers

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

Lyric:
Yo Mac nigga, the only reason I'm telling you this nigga
'Cuz I care 'bout you nigga
I wanna see you ball 'til you fall nigga but you know what
You know what come with muthafuckin' money and fame?
Muthafuckin' enemies and niggas hatin'
You see, you rich now nigga but ahh
Dead men can't spend no muthafuckin' money

Keep yo' eyes on yo' enemies and watch your friends
See money get you power but it also get you dead
And keep yo' eyes on yo' enemies and watch your friends
See money get you sex but it also get you dead

And keep yo' eyes on yo' enemies and watch your friends
See money get you respect but it also get you dead
And keep yo' eyes on yo' enemies and watch your friends
See money brang power but that's why it gets you dead

You see a wise man told me to keep your eyes on a sparrow
And don't get caught up like my lil' homies Harrold and Darryl
You see, this shit ain't the same nigga, times done changed
How many homies out there chasin' fortune and fame?

You see, a righteous man, he learns to preach and uh
Intelligent man, he love to teach
But these ghetto wars got us trapped in
Crack sells, 1-8-7, 2-11's, even the state pen

The penitentiary ain't no place for me
God, won't yah hear me, make a way for me
And to my homies that are gone, I hope they rest in peace
And we gon' ball til' we fall, why we roll the streets

Keep yo' eyes on yo' enemies and watch your friends
See money get you power but it also get you dead
And keep yo' eyes on yo' enemies and watch your friends
See money get you sex but it also get you dead

And keep yo' eyes on yo' enemies and watch your friends
See money get you respect but it also get you dead
And keep yo' eyes on yo' enemies and watch your friends
See money brang power but that's why it gets you dead

Somebody ask me how it feel to have change
How I feel to be a major muthafucka in this game
I'll told them, let the sunshine turn to rain
In other words, that's cool but it's a lot of shit I can't explain

Like bitches say they love me but I can't really believe 'em
Who wouldn't wanna love me, I got money and I'm succeedin''
Them bitches got niggas, niggas got bitches, they be plottin'
You show 'em your crib, next week they kickin' in yo' spot

And it's a shame when niggas bust your brains with the stripes
It seems like I'm the only nigga trippin' on my life
At night, I say my prays with my vest on
My triggas under my pillows, I'm even scared to get my rest on

Runnin' with them killas that'll ride for me, die for me
Open fire for me, wouldn't lie to me
I watch my back, I watch my front, I watch them niggas
I watch them bitches in fact I think they all tryna kill Mac

Keep yo' eyes on yo' enemies and watch your friends
See money get you power but it also get you dead
And keep yo' eyes on yo' enemies and watch your friends
See money get you sex but it also get you dead

And keep yo' eyes on yo' enemies and watch your friends
See money get you respect but it also get you dead
And keep yo' eyes on yo' enemies and watch your friends
See money brang power but that's why it gets you dead

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e2ecd97cca913473f63c9db04ee09b0e

Final Hour - Lyrics - The Miseducation Of Lauryn Hill - Lauryn Hill

Title: Final Hour
Album: The Miseducation Of Lauryn Hill
Artist: Lauryn Hill
Composer(s): Lauryn Hill, Chris Martin

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

Lyric:
I treat this like my thesis
Well written topic
Broken down into pieces
I introduce, then produce
Words so profuse
It's abuse how I juice up this beat
Like I'm deuce
Two people both equal

Like I'm Gemini
Rather Simeon
If I Jimmy on this lock I could pop it
You can't stop it
Drop it
Your whole crew's microscopic
Like particles while I make international articles
And on the cover

Don't discuss the baby mother business
I've been in this third LP, you can't tell me, I witness
First handed, I'm candid
You can't stand it
Respect demanded
And get flown around the planet
Rock hard like granite or steel
People feel Lauryn Hill from New York to Israel
And this is real
So I keep makin' the street's ballads
While you lookin' for dressin' to go with your tossed salad

You could get the money
You could get the power
But keep your eyes on the final hour
You could get the money
You could get the power
But keep your eyes on the final hour

I'm about to change the focus
From the richest to the brokest
I wrote this opus
To reverse the hypnosis
Whoever's closest
To the line, gonna win it
You gonna fall, tryin' to ball
While my team win the pennant

I'm about to begin it
For a minute
Then run for Senate
Make a slum Lord be the tenant
Give his money to kids to spend it
And then amend it
Every law that ever prevented
Our survival since our arrival

Documented in the Bible
Like Moses and Aaron
Things gonna change, it's apparent
And all the transparent gonna
Be seen through
Let God redeem you
Keep your din true
You can get the green too

Watch out who you cling to
Observe how a Queen do
And now I remain calm
Readin' the seventy third psalm
'Cause with all this going on
I got the world in my palm

Now you could get the money
You could get the power
But keep your eyes on the final hour
You could get the money
You could get the power
But keep your eyes on the final hour

Now I'll be breakin' bread sippin' Manichevitz wine
Pay no mind party like it's nineteen ninety nine
But when it comes down to ground beef like Palestine
Say your rhymes, let's see if that get you out your bend
Now I'm a get the mozzarella like a rocker feller
Still be in the church of Lalibela
Singing hymns like a cappella
Whether posed in Maribelle in couture

Or collectin' residuals from off the score
I'm makin' sure
I'm with the hundred and forty four
I've been here before this ain't a battle, this is war
Word to Boonie
I makes a lot like a Sunni
Get diplomatic immunity in every ghetto community
Had opportunity went from

Hood shock to hood-chic
But it ain't what you cop
It's about what you keep
And even if there are leaks
You can't capsize this ship
'Cause I baptize my lips every time I take a sip

You could get the money
You could get the power
But keep your eyes on the final hour
You could get the money
You could get the power
But keep your eyes on the final hour

You could get the money
You could get the power
But keep your eyes on the final hour
You could get the money
You could get the power
But keep your eyes on the final hour

You could get the money
You could get the money
You could get the money
Final hour
Keep your eyes
Keep your eyes
Keep your eyes on the final hour
Now, you can get the money
Okay, you can get the power
But just keep your eyes on the final hour
Final hour
Final hour
Final hour
...

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edd596af248ffdf77bb8165c377506fe

Plan Went Sour - Lyrics - B.G.

Title: Plan Went Sour
Artist: B.G.
Composer(s): Christopher N Dorsey, Byron O Thomas

Lyric:
Picture, I'm always plannin' kaperz, tryin' to come up on cheese
But my kaperz goin' sour for the Lil' B.G., peep me

I was born a loser, a stank pussy abuser
Murders I'm accused 'cause I'm a AK user
Struggle for my stat to be phattest on knots
Pack Glocks wit 17, keep a nigga off my block, it's hot

'Cause it's bumpin', got nothin' but dope traffic
Six figgas what I'm after, can't be playin' and laughin'
Young wit good sense, bent behind the tents
In front of this baller house that I'm 'bout to go in

I got it mapped up, it's planned all out
I demand you denied, them lights goin' all out
I done scoped for 3 weeks, been broke for 3 weeks
Hope inside they got a bird of coke and 10 G

The niggas in the project come in black like always
Invisible wit the mack, it's dark in the hallways
Creepin' so slow 'cause it's on the second flo'
I gets up there, they got a crack in the front do'

I push it wit ease, nigga freeze, get on yo knees
No keys, no G's, I find dead bodies
Two wit head shots, one nigga still breathin'
He bleedin' heavily, I'm leavin' a made G

Get back to the car, tryin' to get far as I can
Nigga planned what I planned, my gun shakin' in my hand
It's one way goin' gettin' money and the power
Gotta think again 'cause my plan went sour

That's cold, I'm tryin' to hold money and the power
Everything I do goes sour, hour after hour
I don't wanna sale flour, I want a office in a tower
Sittin' on G's wit 30 keys of powder

That's cold, I'm tryin' to hold money and the power
Everything I do goes sour, hour after hour
I don't wanna sale flour, I want a office in a tower
Sittin' on G's wit 30 keys of powder

I lay back and think again, tryin' to come up on cheese
Do what I gotta do, nigga it's all on me
Just like it's all on you to chose right from wrong
Might be a power move to go in this nigga home

I'ma handle my biz, plan it out and shit
Ain't killin' no kids but I'ma split his wig
If I have to spank his bitch, I'ma spank the ho
Get off the motherfuckin flo' and take me to the coke

Now where the stash at, where the cash at
Where the grass at, look at this
Chopper in my hand, I'ma blast that, pass that
Green shit wit Ben Franklin on it

I'll spill you nigga, ain't no need for thankin' on it
I gots to have it, up it busta, real fast
Fo' I get to the point, fuck it buster and I'll blast
You play with fire get burned, fuck wit B.G. get burnt

I'ma hustla 'til death, be trill to my last brat
I let my nuts hang, I'm 'bout money and the power
Thinkin' again 'cause my plan went sour
That's cold, man that's cold, my plan went sour

That's cold, I'm tryin' to hold money and the power
Everything I do goes sour, hour after hour
I don't wanna sale flour, I want a office in a tower
Sittin' on G's wit 30 keys of powder

That's cold, I'm tryin' to hold money and the power
Everything I do goes sour, hour after hour
I don't wanna sale flour, I want a office in a tower
Sittin' on G's wit 30 keys of powder

I planned this and I done planned that
But every time it go sour, I can't stand that
I want money and the power in my hand black
I'ma end up leavin' the game, what the fuck is that?

I done kidnapped, I done jacked, I done slung the mack
And every time the kaper over, I bring nothin' back
I have no paper and I'm sober I ain't havin' that
Any high-roller got what I want then I'm grabbin' that

All I got is my rap folder tryin' to make a mill
But they got niggas even colder tryin' to make a mill
I just be real and hope B.G., hit the jack pot
Put on the spot, every tape we drop, hit the store hot

We got a plan and we clique tight on the rise
I come out Juvey ride, Hot Boyz come out, we all ride
I'm 'bout mine and ya know to progress, gotta struggle
Do what I gotta do, gotta rap hustle

Ya playa hate, I pluck ya, fuck ya, hoes jock ya mail
You know I gotta duck but I'm tryin' to bring up tape sales
'Cause I got a plan, I got a plan to go platinum
Holdin' my dick, G's and a strap in my hand

That's cold, I'm tryin' to hold money and the power
Everything I do goes sour, hour after hour
I don't wanna sale flour, I want a office in a tower
Sittin' on G's wit 30 keys of powder

That's cold, I'm tryin' to hold money and the power
Everything I do goes sour, hour after hour
I don't wanna sale flour, I want a office in a tower
Sittin' on G's wit 30 keys of powder

That's cold, I'm tryin' to hold money and the power
Everything I do goes sour, hour after hour
I don't wanna sale flour, I want a office in a tower
Sittin' on G's wit 30 keys of powder

Nigga, respect that, all these niggas puttin' on they black mask
Dressin' up to get dey cash, ya heard me, don't go in that kaper
If it ain't planned right 'cause it aint gon' come out right
You ain't gon' come out wit no mail, make sure you got it down pat

I done been through it and I ain't bring nothin' back
But I'm bringin' this shit to the fuckin' distribution people
And they sendin' some shit back, ya heard me, it's all gravy
Cash Money Records, Black Connection on the rise, all the time

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af32dbafcaf49608b71edd83ed67912a

Power - Lyrics - Greatest Hits: The Evidence - Ice T

Title: Power
Album: Greatest Hits: The Evidence
Artist: Ice T
Composer(s): Charles Andre Glenn, Tracey Lauren Marrow

Lyric:
I'm livin' large as possible
Posse unstoppable
Style topical vividly optical
Listen you'll see'em sometimes I'll be'em
Cops critics and punks necer ever wanta see me in power
Well, that's too bad, Apocalypse now, I'm back and I'm mad
We're comin', you're runnin' cold and cunnin'
Ice T on the mic top gunnin'

After your neck checkin' respect makin' you sweat
Rhyme Syndicate boy in effect
The rap motivator teacher talker night rhyme stalker
Words thrillin', so real they're chillin', the hit author
Gettin' louder than a shot gun, you don't want none
Rhyme pays was the name of the album
But that was number one, this is the number two
The posse grew, we're gonna break through

Power

Somebody line up the suckers who refuse to recognize the truth
Tie up the punks who refuse to understand the youth
My posse's growin' and it's gettin' larger every day
Detroit, Chi-Town, Pittsburgh, Houston, L.A.
Come on, come on, come on, toys, let's play
Circle the calendar, perpetrator doomsday
Ice T fool man of my own full grown
I 'cause havoc when I speak upon the microphone

I'm outspoken, no jokin', get in my face
Your jaw will get broken
Layin' it, sayin' it, then you're playin' it
Lyrics so heavy that you might try weighin' it
Hated by many but I hate 'em back
Loved by troopers who know where it's at
You might like me, might think I'm wack
But don't step to me 'cause the boy stays strapped

I'm takin' no shorts, hatin' the courts
Hatin' the judges
Punk DA's with their personal grudges
I hate the clubs that think with their butts
No hats, jeans, sneakers, no what?
No beepers, no gold? Yo, kiss my ass
We'll wait and see who gets the last laugh
We'll have the power

Power
We'll have the Power
Power

Power it starts with 'P' like pussy
She knows she's got it, she doesn't worry, does she?
Spendin' your cash, leavin' you in the trash
While your little head's thinkin', they're gone in a dash
They got it, know it, that's why they show it
The power of sex, if man could overthrow it
He'd be king in a day, no way
We get rich, hard, give it away

We're weak and as we speak
The girls are hawkin'
Sizin' me up straight out as I'm talkin'
But you gotta have control if you want the gold
I don't wanta be alone like Stallone
So I keep my mind thinkin' 'bout the green
And stop dwellin' on the in-between
I got the power

Power

I'm on a mission mackin' hard as a hammer
Take my picture, I might take your camera
My posse might move and they move fast
A fool's move could be a punk's last
Ain't no criminal although I used to be
Ain't no new jack rappin' ain't new to me
I been makin' records on wax since 1982
Now it's 1988 finally I'm comin' through

That adds up to six years of makin' okay jams
But now I'm mad, here comes the body slam
Turnin' out concerts, house'n the industry
Lovin' all the fly girls screamin' for Ice T
Rollin' with the Syndicate my unstoppable battalion
38 Solid gold my medallion
Gainin' velocity, momentum and energy
Ice capital T, boy, I got the power

Power

So you say that I'm a fake think, you really must be a fool
I been to jail more times than you have probably been in school
Shot at, shot back, hit and seen my buddies killed
That's the foundation upon the raps of Ice T are built
I say what I think, the system does stink
Money you walk, you short, you're writin' from the klink
Come on, what's up, you know the laws are full of bull
Prey on the lame, release those with pull

Power, I know you wanta try it
Well, check out money can buy it
Control and mold the world to do your wishin'
The knowledge of power is mine
So just listen
Money controls the world and that's it
And once you got it
Then you can talk shit

Power
You have the power
Power
You have the power
I got the power

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15ce99273a9f4688694e51b54f6bd699

Warrior Part 2 - Lyrics - Lloyd Banks

Title: Warrior Part 2
Artist: Lloyd Banks
Composer(s): Nathaniel D. Hale, Marshall Mathers, Curtis James Jackson, Christopher Charle Lloyd, S. King, Luis Edgardo Resto

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

Lyric:
Remix
Lloyd Banks

It's like a throne that he don't even own
He won't sit down, given the crown he just throws it around
It's like a joke he's like a king but he don't rule a thing
He don't want the diamonds, want the gold or want the jewelry

He don't want the fame, don't want the lute he's in it for a sport
Runnin' suckaz where there's competition 'round the court
He appreciates your support but he ain't beggin' for it
And you can't love it, you can hate it but you can't ignore it

You can't be that ignorant but you can try to sell him short
But you can't fuck with his last joint or the one before it
And he was gonna raise hell like them country boys
And if I'm frontin' then you better come confront me for it

This is the story of a warrior I know you know it
True warriors go ahead and make some noise
It ain't healthy to be makin' niggaz paranoid
Hit your corner wit' more weapon, I don't need my boyz

I'm doin' 120 in the fast lane
Kick back, just relax, let me do my thang
Don't give a fuck about you suckas gotta maintain
Money, power and respect in this rap game

He's straight outta the neighborhood but niggaz hate
They see you go and eat your dinner off a bigger plate
Your stomachs ache while he's loungin' at the big estate
And he hops in a hundred thousand with a nigga's gate

House with just a bigger gate, houndin' him was a big mistake
He wont surrender, he'll rather give up a rib to break
'Cuz he remembers when they wouldn't lend a helpin' hand
So he was sittin' on green like a Celtic fan

Created a buzz so when you gotta mention his name
When you discussin' the illest playa that's in the game
And he's ridin' with Em, 50 cent, Doc and them
G Unit records ain't no motherfuckin' stoppin' them

This is the story of a warrior I know you know it
True warriors go ahead and make some noise
It ain't healthy to be makin' niggaz paranoid
Hit your corner wit' more weapon, I don't need my boyz

I'm doin' 120 in the fast lane
Kick back, just relax, let me do my thang
Don't give a fuck about you suckas gotta maintain
Money, power and respect in this rap game

He's no magician, man, the kid makes somethin' outta nuthin'
So now niggaz from this hood act like we owe 'em somethin'
They talk crazy till we send niggas through there to buck 'em
Ask 'em if there's a problem and they'll say, "Naw its nothin'"

He was gonna help 'em out, but since they fronted, fuck 'em
He dont care how they feel, they can hate him or love him
He hold it down on his own the kid is really thuggin'
He's rich now, he ain't change so niggaz think he buggin'

He bullet proof everything in case niggaz try and buff him
Keep two pistols on this hip I show you where he tuck 'em
Niggaz say they gon' get at him but they can't touch him
Try to catch 'em slippin', they creepin' and he start bustin'

This is the story of a warrior I know you know it
True warriors go ahead and make some noise
It ain't healthy to be makin' niggaz paranoid
Hit your corner wit' more weapon, I don't need my boyz

I'm doin' 120 in the fast lane
Kick back, just relax, let me do my thang
Don't give a fuck about you suckas gotta maintain
Money, power and respect in this rap game

I can give you niggaz' somethin' you can talk about
I can turn your smile upside down
You ain't no G-Unit fuckin' clown
I can take your girl until I turn her out

Don't hold it in, let it all out
I can give you fuckers somethin' to be mad about
Invite her in send her back out
With my DNA all in her mouth

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1928156af8b87c158da09685c2c35fc2

Dope Money - Lyrics - Ruff Ryders

Title: Dope Money
Artist: Ruff Ryders
Composer(s): David Styles, Anthony Fields, Jason Phillips

Lyric:
Intro
What, what
You over there Styles?
Yeah dog
Second album nigga, real L.O.X
Blaze
We run the streets, yall know who to bet (C'mon)
Fuck yall niggas (Let's go)

Couldn't live the life I live
Why's that
I could die any minute, I get high every minute
Fuckin' with snake niggas, and sleepin' with foul bitches
Came thru on the lightest whip with two pounds in it
Pull over where the hustlers be
Why's that
Cause I get chills when you talk of hustlin' Gs
So I'm always where the powder be at
What it mean
I can blow five bricks to ten in an hour if that
Stay away from where the cowards be at
Why's that
Time is money god, and you can't get an hour back
Or I would do it again to get the power back
Have godfather status, make niggas bow to that
You can all shine and glitter and keep the ones
Fives and tens, for twenties and up, we dummy it up
Make a lot of money, and look bummy and what
Cause money aint shit, respect is everything
So if I kill niggas dead, don't ask me shit
I take blunts to the head, so don't pass me shit
I'd rather die from a bullet, than a nasty bitch
If the good die young, all that mean to me
Is that the hood die young/ We call it the last days
What you know about coppin a house to fight pits in
Or blowin' weed smoke on the cops that write tickets
Henny and what, shit we can semi it up
With your picture on the wall, in memory of
Stay in sync with the hood, gray minks with the hood
We tryin' to get money like chinks in the hood
They ask me how I'm doing now
I tell and#8216em better than them
And if your man front
He can get eleven in him
And if you told them once
Then you better tell him again
Ay yo, now let's see
Who you know fuckin with Sheek Luc, Jadakiss
And S' paper

From dope money to rap money, and back to dope money (C'mon)
Loaded guns, the empty ones, over dope money (Let's go)
Car house in the smoke, over dope money (C'mon)
All my niggas will die over dope money (Let's go)
Bust your nine niggas, Side by side niggas (C'mon)
We hit the ?wreek? of law, Run and hide niggas (Let's go)
Death is the only thing that might divide niggas (C'mon)
So don't fuck around with them Ryde or Die niggas (Let's go)

So we speakin', all I know your face will be leakin'
I rap full time and still pump bass on the weekend
A nigga hoppin' all over the map
And what you learn
That niggas with long paper take longer to crap
That's why every chance I me a gat
And why you rather buy you a chain
I aim at your brain
Nigga, robbery is all we know, so how we gon go broke
When we can just take all yall dough
And then fly out to Cuba, and get in the coke fields
Die off the buddha, fifty and fifty mill
Bring drama cause Gianconna got Kennedy killed
If you come thru in a jet, you frontin' wit us
Cause when the coke price was up
It was nuthin to us
We got blocks full of heroin
Weed and dust/ Seen bullets pop off
Cause of greed and lust
And when the big dogs die
Who gon feed the pups
My niggas is here, so you know the circle is tight
I circle the block, and cut off the lights
Pray to Christ
Cause when the cops come in, we carry shotguns
Dem niggas with the most ice, get the hot ones
Stay on your job, nigga I'ma stay on mine
And if I lose my voice nigga, I'ma flow online
And by next year, we should have a thousand guns
Nigga Ruff Ryde, Ryde or Die Volume One

From dope money to rap money, and back to dope money (C'mon)
Loaded guns, the empty ones, over dope money (Let's go)
Car house in the smoke, over dope money (C'mon)
All my niggas will die over dope money (Let's go)
Bust your nine niggas, Side by side niggas (C'mon)
We hit the ?wreek? of law, Run and hide niggas (Let's go)
Death is the only thing that might divide niggas (C'mon)
So don't fuck around with them Ryde or Die niggas (Let's go)

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4211ce650df166c8cd45ea85232d1043

Dope Money - Lyrics - The Lox

Title: Dope Money
Artist: The Lox
Composer(s): David Styles, Anthony Fields, Jason Phillips

Lyric:
What, what?
(This goes out to the general public)
Yo, you over there Styles? Yeah dog
(Anybody sleepin' on us)
Second album nigga, two guns up nigga
Real L.O.X., blaze
"We Are the Streets" nigga, y'all know who the best
(C'mon)
Fuck y'all niggas wanna do, what, what?
(Let's go)

Couldn't live the life I live
(Yo why's that)
I could die any minute, I get high every minute
Fuckin' with snake niggas, and sleepin' with foul bitches
Came through in the latest whip with two pounds in it

Pull over where the hustlers be
(And why's that)
'Cause I get chills when you talk of hustlin' ki's
So I'm always where the powder be at
(What it mean)
I can blow five bricks to ten in an hour if that

Stay away from where the cowards be at
(Why's that)
Time is money God, and you can't get an hour back
Or I would do it again to get the power back
Have Godfather status, make niggas bow to that

You could all shine and glitter and keep the ones
Fives and tens, for twenties and up, we dummy it up
Make a lot of money, look bummy and what
'Cause money ain't shit, respect is everything

So if I kill niggas dead, don't ask me shit
I smoke blunts to the head, so don't pass me shit
I'd rather die from a bullet, than a nasty bitch
They say the good die young, all that mean to me

Is that the hood die young, we call it the last days
What you know about coppin' a house to fight pits in
Or blowin' weed smoke on the cops that write tickets
Henny iy up, shit we can semi it up

Have a picture of you on the wall, 'In Memory Of'
Stay in sync with the hood, gray minks with the hood
We tryin' to get money like chinks in the hood
They ask me how I'm doing now, I tell 'em better than them

And if your man front, he can get eleven in him
And if you told them once, then you better tell him again
Ay yo, now let's see
Who you know fuckin' with Sheek Luc, Jadakiss, and S.P.

From dope money to rap money, back to dope money
(C'mon)
From loaded guns to empty ones, over dope money
(Let's go)
We got the car house and the smoke, with the dope money
(C'mon)
All my niggas that died, over dope money
(Let's go)

Bust your nine niggas, side by side niggas
(C'mon)
If we get the RICO law, we go run and hide niggas
(Let's go)
Death is the only thing that might divide niggas
(C'mon)
So don't fuck around with them Ryde or Die niggas
(Let's go)

Basically speakin', all I know your face will be leakin'
I rap full time and still pump bass on the weekend
A nigga hoppin' all over the map, and what you learned
That niggas with long paper take longer to crack

That's why every chance I buy me a gat
Why you rather buy you a chain, I aim at your brain
Nigga, robbery is all we know, so how we gon' go broke
When we could always take all y'all dough

And then fly out to Cuba and get in the coke fields
Die off the Buddha, fifty with fifty mill
Bring drama cause Gianconna got Kennedy killed
If you come through in a jet, then you frontin' to us

Cause when the coke price was up, it was nuthin' to us
We got blocks full of heroin, weed and dust
Seen bullets pop off, 'cause of greed and lust
And when the big dogs die, who gon' feed the pups

My niggas is here, so you know the circle is tight
I circle the block, and cut off the lights, pray to Christ
And when the cops come, we don't care, we got shotguns
And niggas with the most ice, get the hot ones

Stay on your job, nigga I'ma stay on mine
And if I lose my voice nigga, I'ma flow online
And by next year, we should have a thousand guns
Nigga Ruff Ryde, Ryde or Die Volume One

From dope money to rap money, back to dope money
(C'mon)
From loaded guns to empty ones, over dope money
(Let's go)
We got the car house and the smoke, with the dope money
(C'mon)
All my niggas that died, over dope money
(Let's go)

Bust your nine niggas, side by side niggas
(C'mon)
If we get the RICO law, we go run and hide niggas
(Let's go)
Death is the only thing that might divide niggas
(C'mon)
So don't fuck around with them Ryde or Die niggas
(Let's go)

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e8da43dc20fd008e19bc8859eafb9006

Thug Warz - Lyrics - Fredro Starr

Title: Thug Warz
Artist: Fredro Starr
Composer(s): Fred Scruggs, Charles Smith

Lyric:
All my real street niggaz throw your guns up
Throw your guns up, throw your guns up

I'd rather have enemies
'Cause fear last longer than love
In the streets nothing stronger than thug
We all bleed the same color
Weather you a crip or a blood
You want more you'll be comin' with slugs

Yo, yo, the head nigga in charge, king of New York
Greatest of all time, you wanna talk streets let's talk
We are the streets, forever check my wall report
There's no way out except entertainment, drugs and sports

Feds try to shut us down without a reasonable doubt
Supreme clientèle legal drug money on paper routes
Till the death do us part for money, power, respect
My road to riches don't want dies like life after death

It's hell on earth, the block is hot 400 degreez
The truth tell us what envy all eyes on me
A top-dawg said the game is to be sold not told
Pulled out the ill-matic 16 shots to your dome

Capital punishment black trash trapped in crime
The ghetto's trying to kill me, license to ill Kriminal mind
To understand there was a comin'' of age
We nigga'z fo' life, disaster strikes on Judgment Day

I'd rather have enemies
'Cause fear last longer than love
In the streets nothing stronger than thug
We all bleed the same color
Weather you a crip or a blood
You want more you'll be comin' with slugs

I'd rather have enemies
'Cause fear last longer than love
In the streets nothing stronger than thug
We all bleed the same color
Weather you a crip or a blood
You want more you'll be comin' with slugs

I ain't got time for dem lies, I gotta get mines
Muthafucka ask Shyne, he'll tell you I rise
Do 'em dirty this time, worked with Phillis this time
You outta line tryin' to war with us shootin' that nine

Gotta our back against the wall, so its ball or die'
Outlaw 'cause of course you hate it, watch how we rise
(Wha'?)
Nigga I street talk, the gangsta' walk to be like this
Then I load 'em up, one by one shootin' don't miss

It's a critical game, we pledge plead for this blood
If you a thug it don't matter, the crypt fo' this 'cuz
Outlaw muthafucka then bust yo' rocket
Firestarr and other people attack yo' pocket

Yo' it's serious biz, we hand deliver this shit
If you want, it's door to door service
Hand 'em and scream makes it more worth it
Hold up I'm lying 'cause shit I'm gettin' money now

So I drop fifty thou and take a trip back to the isle
Come back to the states like shit what a vacation
My mind on Makaveli and this money we taken
I'm gonna bust 'em and then vacate the scene

Before the siren's scream, 2001 look how my team gleam
Comin' up quick like we out there pitchin' them birdies
Terrorize the whole game, with my nigga'z from Jersey
And if you in tha way well shit you be there long
We head strong, so fuck it nigga let'z get it on

All my real street niggaz throw your guns up
Throw your guns up, throw your guns up
All my real street niggaz throw your guns up
Throw your guns up, throw your guns up

I'd rather have enemies
'Cause fear last longer than love
In the streets nothing stronger than thug
We all bleed the same color
Weather you a crip or a blood
You want more you'll be comin' with slugs

I'd rather have enemies
'Cause fear last longer than love
In the streets nothing stronger than thug
We all bleed the same color
Weather you a crip or a blood
You want more you'll be comin' with slugs

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ab935c3f9d5f04d958b94f3c79551b5b

Success - Lyrics - Jealous One's Envy - Fat Joe

Title: Success
Album: Jealous One's Envy
Artist: Fat Joe
Composer(s): D Poilla, Joseph Cartagena

Lyric:
Yeah, this joint right here is goin' out to everybody gettin' money
I mean the real cream
All up and down the East and West coast
Check it

Hustlin' is the key to success, money is the key to sex
The life is gettin' cash, drinkin' mo', gettin' blessed
The games people play, the names people slay
It's just another ordinary day

Hustlin' is the key to success, money is the key to sex
The life is gettin' cash, drinkin' mo', gettin' blessed
The games people play, the names people slay
It's just another ordinary day

One's for the cash, two's for every blunt's ash
Three's for all the 40 brews goin' to cruise the bowel
Four's for the drugs, sex and power
I be the top dolla' scala, rockin' gold collars

While you tryin' to sip the juice, I'm takin' swallows
Step into my zone and get blown, my ways are internationally known
Yeah, in case you haven't heard the rep
Have an appetite for beef and get, hand fed led

Rapid-fire echoes through your, vicinity
Why you messin' with this nigga from Trinity?
For every shell that fell, there's a story to tell
But it's a fine line between grapevines and pines

Knahmean? There's no room for snitches and loud bitches
But it's always room for riches and deep ditches
That's how it be in this everlasting game
Declaring war on cocks, and leavin' chumps slain

So maintain, and put the frontin' to a rest
Or today'll be the grand openin' of your chest
Success, triple beam, knahmean?
Dolla' dolla' bill

Hustlin' is the key to success, money is the key to sex
The life is gettin' cash, drinkin' mo', gettin' blessed
The games people play, the names people slay
It's just another ordinary day

The streets are full of vengeance, and it's expensive
If you don't organize your words right in your sentence
Twelve gauge holes take souls and lives are lost
Who said an arm and a leg was a high cost to toss?

Things are done different, in my zip code
Hollow tips implode, dum-dums explode
Now your crew is screamin' like they see demons when I reload
You can't comprehend, act like you want it for clarity

I'm pushin' wigs, handin' out jigs like charity
You best to get your groove on, or get moved on
Or play the hot steppa, and die with your shoes on
I collects ass and cash

While my crew consumes liquor and hash, and keep the stash
Whether, hustlin' or dustin' we get busy with ours
T.S., T.A.T., respect for miles
The Bronx is the turf, South is the area

Bring ten, bring twenty, the more guns the merrier
Nobody's bad as me, no cops nabbin' me
Front if you dare and I'll change your whole anatomy
For real, uh

Hustlin' is the key to success, money is the key to sex
The life is gettin' cash, drinkin' mo', gettin' blessed
The games people play, the names people slay
It's just another ordinary day

Hustlin' is the key to success, money is the key to sex
The life is gettin' cash, drinkin' mo', gettin' blessed
The games people play, the names people slay
It's just another ordinary day

Hustlin' is the key to success, money is the key to sex
The life is gettin' cash, drinkin' mo', gettin' blessed
The games people play, the names people slay
It's just another ordinary day
...

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d126cebd66023a573ed5a7b328f309e3

Shottas - Lyrics - What the Game's Been Missing! - Juelz Santana

Title: Shottas
Album: What the Game's Been Missing!
Artist: Juelz Santana
Composer(s): Greg Green, C. Giles, Seon Thomas, Miguel Collins, L. Moore, Laron James

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

Lyric:
Click clack and it's over you dead
(This is it)
My damn glock, buss a cap in your head
(Santana)
It's in my blood I love killin' you fools
(This here for my shottas)
I'm a thug, that goes by no rules
(DipSet)

Heaven knows if I'm meant to go
(I'm a shotta)
Let me know if I'm meant to go
(I'm a shotta)
Send the toast if I'm meant to go
(I'm a shotta)
Tell my folks I've been sent to go

I got a shotta, shotta, shotta, shotta
Scream shotta, shotta, shotta, shotta
We shottas, shottas, shottas, shottas
Yeah shottas, shottas, shottas, shottas

All sides, all guys, all rise now
Bo! Bo! Bo! Bo! Lick four shots now
Now all ladies, more ladies, all guys down
Say Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Four times now

Shake that ass like a shotta hoe, get in shotta mode
It's DipSet bitch, yeah, there them shottas go
And them shots will go and them shots a blow
Damn straight through your man's plantano

You'll get a pushin' rod for bein' a rookie paw
And puttin' your head in the next man cookie jar
We supportin', enforcin', extortion
Involvin' take Bronson, or money launderin'

We are shottas, yes y'all to the death y'all
Money power respect y'all the hell with the rest y'all
If heaven ain't got a ghetto I guess I'm goin' to hell
With the rush y'all, with a L and my vest on

Heaven knows if I'm meant to go
(I'm a shotta)
Let me know if I'm meant to go
(I'm a shotta)
Send the toast if I'm meant to go
(I'm a shotta)
Tell my folks I've been sent to go

I got a shotta, shotta, shotta, shotta
Scream shotta, shotta, shotta, shotta
We shottas, shottas, shottas, shottas
Yeah, shottas, shottas, shottas, shottas

Click clack and it's over you dead
My damn glock, buss a cap in your head
It's in my blood I love killin' you fools
I'm a thug, that goes by no rules

Click clack and it's over you dead
My damn glock, buss a cap in your head
All my thugs and I love kill you fools
Aye, outlaws goes by no rules

Now tell me who wanna fuck with us?
(Who)
Who wanna romp with us?
(Who)
(Bo! Bo! Bo! Bo!)
You know what's up with us, true coke smugglers
(We are shottas)
Tombstone coverers the news goin' need full blow coverage

Our shottas big was a shotta Pac was a shotta
(Bo!)
Shyne locked up 'cause Shyne was a shotta
(Bo!)
Shottas, one more time lick a shot for my shottas
My pops was never there that made my mama the shotta
(Bo!)

Made by a woman I was raised by a woman
So I never love a bitch but I stays by my women
(They are shottas)
We a breed of achievers
That will do anything to succeed or achieve it

You walk like a shotta, you talk like a shotta
But won't stand up in the court like a shotta
Niggaz like you ought to get shot up
For actin' and bein' a fraudulent shotta

Heaven knows if I'm meant to go
(I'm a shotta)
Let me know if I'm meant to go
(I'm a shotta)
Send the toast if I'm meant to go
(I'm a shotta)
Tell my folks I've been sent to go

I got a shotta, shotta, shotta, shotta
Scream shotta, shotta, shotta, shotta
We shottas, shottas, shottas, shottas
Yeah, shottas, shottas, shottas, shottas

My shottas, they shotta
Dreadlock Rastas, Rudeboys, pop the
Imposter hang with the lobsters
Sing like the opera, or bang with the mobsters

Don Gargon pardon, love the drama
Un-tuck the lama, now suck your mama
Boom boom bang clutch zoom zoom
Who hum guys wise yes touch pum pums

I'm Gotti boy, with that shotty toy
Ladi dadi howdy mami I body a battyboy
I cannot flop, ock this a shot clock
Twenty four seconds your inside a hot pot

It get deep daddy, out the peach caddy
He curry chicken, turn him a beef patty
Get the coco bread, I'm a loco head
With the 'fo 'fo, oh, he'll be oh so dead

Click clack and it's over you dead
My damn glock, buss a cap in your head
It's in my blood I love killin' you fools
I'm a thug, that goes by no rules

Click clack and it's over you dead
My damn glock, buss a cap in your head
I'm a thug and I love kill you fools
Hey, outlaws goes by no rules

We shottas, shottas, shottas, shottas
Scream shotta, shotta, shotta, shotta
We shottas, shottas, shottas, shottas
Yeah, shottas, shottas, shottas, shottas

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b8d53b64b695e463fdcdbd2bf73b6713

Everything I Love - Lyrics - Press Play - Diddy

Title: Everything I Love
Album: Press Play
Artist: Diddy
Composer(s): Sean Combs, Thomas Decarlo Callaway, Leroy V Watson, Nasir Jones, Kanye Omari West

Lyric:
The world at my sneakers
Gold pieces molded with Jesus features
Give streets the fever
From the way I spit the Ether

Came on the scene at 19, a gritty fiefa
For money, power, respect, get it by any means
A New Yorker, slick talker, walk like a brick flipper
Decimal doctor, multiply to get richer

I'm a entrepreneur, I'm the heart of the city
I'm a part of the sewers, I'm the honorable Diddy
I taste the dirt in my sweat, that's from the Harlem struggle
All in my swagger, that's the reason why I got my hustle

I got the highest stature, Miami diamond flasher
I got you caught in the most flyest and stylish rapture
My signature next to Christopher Wallace, get it honest
My first album through to him, that was my biggest project

Now I'm the illest known to walk like the illest soldier
And when I smoke, only roll up with the illest doja
You sit and mail it over my venom, a killer cobra
It's Harlem, U.S.A., I diddy bop and shop with Oprah

Nigga, what?
From my voice I'm killin' 'em
I shed my blood
About everything I love

Am still a eye blacker, open handed, face the palm smacker
Goods strapper, cat stacker, good wood packer
Tear up the Dom P wrappers faster
Platinum Patron splasher, fuck Cris, spit atcha

I call it rich ignorant laughter
Black American Express card all gray now
It's scratched up from constant usage
Girl kidnapper, pop tags off tags

Poppa makin' monster music
And still I Cosa Nostra
Big roaster, skin cola
Girl, when I send for ya, bring friends, wontcha?

I'm from the '80s, N.Y.C., 5 percent of culture
Breeze through with that old school blue [Incomprehensible]
Wrist glowin', ho-in', fly off in a Boeing
Slide off with your ho and spend six figures on her

My persona, Sean John, unforgivable cologne
Coppin' the biggest diamonds, makes me sorta bi-polar
Ferrari to Phantom, vehicles for high rollers
The studded chain around my neck, it makes the night colder

Nigga, what?
From my voice I'm killin' 'em
I shed my blood
About everything I love

The Queens Crypt keeper, Mets hat rocker
Pretty bitch slobber, Ex-robber, heister, my own life biographer
Pants saggin', Bentley whippin', Summer Jam stopper
Tim Chuck wearin', Cranapple vodka, then I spray choppers

A doctor in the jungles of Haiti made me
Draped in paisley bandannas, suits with Adam Stacey
Cigar like Dick Tracy, it's dark, I get spacey
Alcohol and laced weed, that was part of my '80s

The Cartier conciergeries be near me
Canary yellow cuts in my pinky yearly
Liz Taylor tried to juxt me
'Coz I keep it green like the other side of Bill Bixby

When he gets mean
Think fast before I blast hoes Like Grassino
Went from scraggly old clothes
To the illest fashion and realest rappin'

Pablo back on the scene, won't roll back up with green
Strictly paper cruisin' through the strip in Vegas
Two of New York's biggest, niggaz, y'all used to hate us
But now you love us, Nas and Diddy, power hustlers

Nigga, what?
From my voice I'm killin' 'em
I shed my blood
About everything I love

It's on everything I love, man
It's on everything I love
It's on everything I love, man

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96ad540ae274ba66e24e68b2aaebd8e3

Story To Tell - Lyrics - Me Myself & I - Fat Joe

Title: Story To Tell
Album: Me Myself & I
Artist: Fat Joe
Composer(s): Mohammed Khaled, Joseph Cartagena

Lyric:
Crack

For every shell that fell there's a story to tell
They say you hustle then you goin' to hell
Nah, I know God love's me
Yeah, I know that He fucks with me

Can a gangster go to Heaven? Let me in
I call it survival, you call it a sin
Damn, I got a story to tell
Yeah, I got a story to tell

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm right here, gun in my right palm
Niggas try and trap me and cage me like my san
Oh shit, this mic on? Speakin' my thoughts, nigga
You catch a hundred if you speakin' in court

Yeah, I'm feelin' like Michael just before the verdict
Sweat on my forehead, I'm anxious and nervous
These streets'll eat you if you let 'em, cop'll beat you
You pumpin' Diesel then them jack boys'll beat you

I try and listen more and speak less
'Cause all that 'Barbershop' talk
Could get a nigga put to deep rest
You on the corner and I'm flyin' buy
Some foreign exotic muh'fucker, you know we flyin' buy

Oh you got nine lives? I got a pine box
Might as well hop your ass in it 'cause my iron popped
And I ain't lyin', ask, yeah I'm lyin' hard
Run up on anybody that's supplyin' my block

For every shell that fell there's a story to tell
They say you hustle then you goin' to hell
Nah, I know God love's me
Yeah, I know that He fucks with me

Can a gangster go to Heaven? Let me in
I call it survival, you call it a sin
Damn, I got a story to tell
Yeah, I got a story to tell

I know this nigga named Shaheim, an old school cat
Did football numbers and never once rat
Now he back on the block, got him slingin' them packs
And his rep kinda crazy, known for slingin' them Macks

Got a baby with Sandra, he named him K-Sacks
'Cause that's where he did his first bid way back
Now this nigga Sha' got like a memory lapse
Basically you give him work and he ain't payin' back

Now with some connects, you could away with that
But he must of fucked wit the wrong Columbian cats
Now these niggaz comin' strapped and they want they money back
And you can't tell the difference 'cause some of them look black

Now Sha on the block thinkin' life's a joke
And his mama just had a dream that he might get smoked
But he don't give a fuck, he been through the best wars
Knife to knife, the yard to the mess halls

And these niggaz here got somethin' else in mind
Like a hundred shots fired at a pretzel less spine
Uh huh, you guessed it, just a matter of time
Another soldier down, he got hit with a nine, dang

For every shell that fell there's a story to tell
They say you hustle then you goin' to hell
Nah, I know God love's me
Yeah, I know that He fucks with me

Can a gangster go to Heaven? Let me in
I call it survival, you call it a sin
Damn, I got a story to tell
Yeah, I got a story to tell

Nah, I ain't a rapper, motherfuck rap
They snitched on Kim, how lame is that
This game ain't shit but snakes and rats
Fightin' each other for loose change and scraps

My nigga kicked you right on your back when you down
No life preservers, they wanna see you drown
I pull the trigger myself, I don't want no help
Now the only nigga tell on myself is myself

'Money, Power, Respect', you heard 'The LOX'
Half these niggaz in here popped deserve to get robbed
I think we need another fuckin' Biggy and Pac
So you muh'fuckers can have another Million Man March

For every shell that fell there's a story to tell
They say you hustle then you goin' to hell
Nah, I know God love's me
Yeah, I know that He fucks with me

Can a gangster go to Heaven? Let me in
I call it survival, you call it a sin
Damn, I got a story to tell
Yeah, I got a story to tell

Now that bitch Remy Martin, she down with us
DJ Khaled, he's down with us
Street Runner, yeah, he's down with us
Engineer Drop, yeah, he's down with us

Them niggaz Cool and Dre, they down with us
Tony Sunshine, he's down with us
Macho, you know he's down with us
Sneaker Boy Safe, yeah, he's down with us

Pistol P, he's down with us
Richie Player, yeah, he's down with us
Alpo, you know he's down with us
DJ Surge, you know he's down with us

LV, you know he's down with us
Full Flex and Mickey, they down with us
That boy Trey Carter, he's down with us
Aimee Morris, you know she down with us

Rockwild, you know he's down with us
Them boys Corrupt Money, yeah, they down with us
JB and Young Neach is down with us
Showbiz born Lord, yeah, he down with us

Diggin' in the Crates is down with us
My nigga Opie is down with us
Raul man, you know he's down with us
Percie and TA, they down with us

Tego Calderon, yeah, he's down with us
Willie Evee Queen yeah, they down with us
The whole Puerto Rico is down with us
Santo Domingo is down with us

Cuba, you know they down with us
Latinos worldwide, yeah, they down with us
Hector Lafavre is down with us
Sean Letal you know he's down with us

Pitbull, you know he's down with us
Viva Mexico, yeah, they down with us
The Boogie Down Bronx is down with us
Miami, Dade County, yeah, they down with us
We number one

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Get Your Shit Right - Lyrics - Jermaine Dupri

Title: Get Your Shit Right
Artist: Jermaine Dupri
Composer(s): Rahman Griffin, Earl Simmons, Jermaine Dupri, Deric Angelettie

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

Lyric:
To all my bitches in the spot lookin' real fly
And all my niggas wit the corner locked gettin' high
And all my playas world wide it's just you and I
Getcha paper, getcha doe, getcha shit right here

To all my bitches in the spot lookin' real fly
And all my niggas wit the corner locked gettin' high
And all my playas world wide it's just you and I
Getcha paper, getcha doe, getcha shit right here

First off, you all niggaz know I don't slouch
An' as a kid I done did the shit you talkin' about
I'm from the south, ya heard?
Where niggas fly birds outta Impalas
Live lavish
From ATL to Dallas an' the little palace
Goin' once, goin twice, everyday, livin' nice
In the grey wit the ice, makin' money rollin' dice
Livin' the life, that you all dream of
Puttin' niggaz outta business like Sony did to Sega

You seen us, the green stuff
An nuttin' else that's all I collect
I got the hots like the lox, money, power and respect
And I can damn the check that any of you all niggaz spit
I stay hittin', I ain't bullshittin'
Nigga, wit more glitta, than MJ
It's all pimp play, when it comes to me
And you all motherfuckers know how JD gets down
And those who don't it's a new sheriff in town
Feel me now

To all my bitches in the spot lookin' real fly
And all my niggas wit the corner locked gettin' high
And all my playas world wide it's just you and I
Getcha paper, getcha doe, getcha shit right here

To all my bitches in the spot lookin' real fly
And all my niggas wit the corner locked gettin' high
And all my playas world wide it's just you and I
Getcha paper, getcha doe, getcha shit right here

Yo, let me tell you were I'm at you all shits kinda sad you all
If you ride the buses or trains
Watch ya back you all, who think he stallin'?
I still ain't ballin' and I got wild bills
An' a crowd that keeps callin'
My dogs wanna hang, my bitches wanna bang
But it don't mean a thing when all you got is change
That's why my women ain't dimes
Not even close to nines sorta like fives and sixes
Wit scars and stiches

Type of bitches that spit in your face like Alomar
Broke hoes without a car snatchin' fruit from salad bars
Which one of you all come on, test me now
Me not goin' nowhere, you don't impress me now
So next time you see me up in them clubs
I'm probably scemin' while you at the bar
Brick hard and fiendin'
I wait for 4 o'clock when your drunk ass is leavin'
'Cause I paid to get in and now I gotta pray teethin'

To all my bitches in the spot lookin' real fly
And all my niggas wit the corner locked gettin' high
And all my playas world wide it's just you and I
Getcha paper, getcha doe, getcha shit right here

To all my bitches in the spot lookin' real fly
And all my niggas wit the corner locked gettin' high
And all my playas world wide it's just you and I
Getcha paper, getcha doe, getcha shit right here

Niggas goin' to parties thousand dollar shoes and jewels
You begets what I be wantin' so I be bringin' the tool
Tryin' to snatch up all that ice that you came in
And nigga D be flippin', yeah, money, it's the same shit
What you thought 'cause you bought a joint
You might be able to creep a nigga
When he ain't on point
And I can see it in yo' eyes that you comin' closer than tryin'
And every step you take brings your ass closer to dyin'

And I don't flow wit the doe 'cause money comes and goes
Gimme the love of my thugs, hoodrats and hoes
And I'm good 'cause motherfucker I'm stayin' in the hood
And I'm gon' rip till I'm stiff like wood
You wishin' that you could keep it as real as me
And you gon' know that the pain that you feel is me
When I get ill it be some next shit
Darkman, motherfuckin' X shit
Wreck shit for respect bitch

To all my bitches in the spot lookin' real fly
And all my niggas wit the corner locked gettin' high
And all my playas world wide it's just you and I
Getcha paper, getcha doe, getcha shit right here

To all my bitches in the spot lookin' real fly
And all my niggas wit the corner locked gettin' high
And all my playas world wide it's just you and I
Getcha paper, getcha doe, getcha shit right here

To all my bitches in the spot lookin' real fly
And all my niggas wit the corner locked gettin' high
And all my playas world wide it's just you and I
Getcha paper, getcha doe, getcha shit right here

To all my bitches in the spot lookin' real fly
And all my niggas wit the corner locked gettin' high
And all my playas world wide it's just you and I
Getcha paper, getcha doe, getcha shit right here

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