My Fo Fo - Lyrics - All or Nothing - Fat Joe

Title: My Fo Fo
Album: All or Nothing
Artist: Fat Joe
Composer(s): Andre Christopher Lyon, J Barbera, H Curtin, J Cartagena, Marcello Valenzano, W Hanna

Lyric:
Yeah that'll do it, yeah, I love hip hop
I love this motherfuckin' hip hop game
This nigga here is a little nigga, man
Stay in your motherfuckin' lane, nigga
You fuckin' with a Don, nigga, Crack, follow me

Fifty, meet Fifty, he's the fakest have you ever seen?
Curtis, Curtis Jackson
How come you can never ever be seen?

(Once I got you, I'ma give you my)
My, my fo fo fo fo fo
My, my fo fo fo fo fo, my, my fo fo fo fo fo
I'ma give it to you, baby, nice and slow

Fifty, you gon' end up dead when you fuckin' with Crack
Talkin' about you gon' pop off, where the fuck you be at?
Cook, I see MJ in the hood more than Curtis
Matter fact, this beef shit is making niggaz nervous

It's gonna be families grieving every Sunday service
End up with your head popped off, thanks to Curtis
But he don't care, he stay locked up in the house an' shit
Steroid up and he won't come about that bitch

Is it me or 'Candy Shop' sound like 'Magic Stick'?
In the video, this nigga Fifty 'bout to strip
Shakin' his ass, what the fuck is wrong with this nigga?
Fifty, don't make me

Oh yeah, you got sixty-five niggaz on your team
And they're not from Southside, Jamaica, Queens
They're the boys in blue, I'm just speakin' the truth
Now we all see the bitch in you, follow me, nigga

Fifty, meet Fifty, he's the fakest have you ever seen?
Curtis, Curtis Jackson
How come you can never ever be seen?

(Once I got you, I'ma give you my)
My, my fo fo fo fo fo
My, my fo fo fo fo fo, my, my fo fo fo fo fo
I'ma give it to you, baby, nice and slow

Now, let's take it back to the Vibe awards
Where that nigga disrespect and then snuffed your boss
Minute ago, all I heard was G-G-G-Unit
Fifty niggaz ran and they didn't even do shit

That's a shame, I was sittin' right in the front
Waitin' for you niggaz to dump
Where all thug guns and them Teflon vests-es?
We them Terror Squad boys, you should know not to test us

'Hate it or Love It,' The Game's on top
Now you jealous of him, when your shit gon' stop?
You 'CB4,' youse a bitch nigga 'Straight Outta Locash'
L.A. don't believe him, this nigga is so ass

You dissed 'Lean Back,' said my shit was a dud
Now tell me have you ever seen 'em up in the club?
Nope, nope, no shawty that's right
You singin' more than you rappin' now Fifty that ain't right

Fifty, meet Fifty, he's the fakest have you ever seen?
Curtis, Curtis Jackson
How come you can never ever be seen?

(Once I got you, I'ma give you my)
My, my fo fo fo fo fo
My, my fo fo fo fo fo, my, my fo fo fo fo fo
I'ma give it to you, baby, nice and slow

New York, I know what y'all thinkin', man
Y'all thinkin' Jada gon' slay him lyrically
This nigga be crazy for dissin'
Fat Joe man, he really crazy though

This nigga be walkin' around with
Twenty cops talkin' shit on records
Never comin' out his house
Feel like he can't get touched, man

I respond one time, one time only
It ain't gon' be no more songs from me, man
And this for all the muh'fuckers
Who doubted Crack man

Trust me, nigga could response ten thousand times
I ain't talkin' back to that nigga
The one thing I will promise you

If I want get you I'm gon' get you
And that's it, man, it's Crack, bitch
It's gon' be a real ugly summer, man

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897bdad8c34211f5e09db4fa84f08339

Money Over Bitches - Lyrics - Untold Story Volume II - Game

Title: Money Over Bitches
Album: Untold Story Volume II
Artist: Game
Composer(s): Joseph Tom, Jayceon Taylor

Lyric:
Huh, niggaz think they got the game sewed, yeah right
I'm air tight, fresh in them Air Nikes
If the Navi outside, I might be there
Black hoodie, black 9, black wifey airs

Rock guns like Caddy trunks, keep a spare
You see the lump under the Iceberg fleece and gear
And when the beef cook, I'ma put the piece to your head
And if you see a white truck that mean yo' sheets is dead

Then I'm goin', goin', back, back
To the block to dump the bucket and jump in the drop
Niggaz know I'm good with the glock, they call me Chick Hearns
'Cause if the game on knot, I'm callin the shots

I'll wear a shiny suit for a minute like I'm The L.O.X.
Then get gangster with a swap meet bag and a Jordan box
And when I die, bury me with the glock and a bucket of shells
In case niggaz want drama in hell

Yeah, so when Compton niggaz
And Fillmoe niggaz get together
Shit happens mayne, real talk from ya nigga Fig'
Doin' it big and don't wanna split yo' wig

I'll give you anything you ask fo', money over bitches
Tell me what'chu blast fo'? Fuck around with snitches
What you had to smash fo' ? Niggaz tried to play me, man
Anything you ask fo', all about this Bay game

I'll give you anything you ask fo', money over bitches
Tell me what'chu blast fo'? Fuck around with snitches
What you had to smash fo' ? Niggaz tried to play me man
Anything you ask fo', representin' Bay game

I be the boy with the most cabbage, pluck strings like I'm Lenny Kravitz
I'm in the streets where they goin' savage
One, two, so we dance on the rooftop
Let the Coupe ghost ride then we come to two stops

Figga eight an' by the corner sto'
Niggarali from killer Cali, you gotta let 'em know
Yeah, ya hit me on my Sidekick
Inventory pilin' up, niggaz tryin' to buy shit

They got me diggin' in my files
Pro Tools, ADAT tapes and big sounds
Jumpin' on a plane, jumpin' out a taxi cab
Stackin' up this fettucini now these niggaz hella mad

Fuck that nigga, he got another album on the board?
Damn right, another album on the board
Fuck the bullshit, the Figgarali don't play
I represent the whole Bay every motherfuckin' day

I'll give you anything you ask fo', money over bitches
Tell me what'chu blast fo'? Fuck around with snitches
What you had to smash fo' ? Niggaz tried to play me, man
Anything you ask fo', all about this Bay game

I'll give you anything you ask fo', money over bitches
Tell me what'chu blast fo'? Fuck around with snitches
What you had to smash fo' ? Niggaz tried to play me man
Anything you ask fo', representin' Bay game

Count rubber band grands
I'm out big on the under with my fam bam
And I hover the lands
To expand, I'm from the gutter grime and the sand

No jams the flam's all busted
The dames want the bucks when they see you stuffed in
Your pockets, 'til they get them some
But testin' my pocket, only gets you none

'Cause I got a pimp mentality
The scrubs wanna eat shrimp and get my salary
They ain't knowin' I'm tight laced in my shoestrings
Hate the way I'm flowin' on the mic 'cause I do gleam

All types of baguettes and bezels
We shine like life's [Incomprehensible] rebels
2005, me and my crew just pile the pots
Move like the ice loose, pimp these thangs to watch

I'll give you anything you ask fo', money over bitches
Tell me what'chu blast fo'? Fuck around with snitches
What you had to smash fo' ? Niggaz tried to play me, man
Anything you ask fo', all about this Bay game

I'll give you anything you ask fo', money over bitches
Tell me what'chu blast fo'? Fuck around with snitches
What you had to smash fo' ? Niggaz tried to play me man
Anything you ask fo', representin' Bay game

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acb4ec2154f3ecf05349c7b6f164e1c9

I'M A Playa - Lyrics - Paul Wall

Title: I'M A Playa
Artist: Paul Wall
Composer(s): Paul Beauregard, Jordan Houston, Paul Slayton

Lyric:
Yes sir, Swisha House
DJ Paul and Juicy J productions
Paul Wall, Swisha House, Hypnotize Minds
Three 6 Mafia, it's goin' down

Eighty-fo's, candy paint
Switchin' lanes, sippin' drank
Eighty-fo's, candy paint
Switchin' lanes, sippin' drank

Eighty-fo's, candy paint
Switchin' lanes, sippin' drank
Eighty-fo's, candy paint
Switchin' lanes, sippin' drank

It's Paul Wall baby, yeah that's me
These hoes wanna know what I'm 'bout
Princess cuts all on my neck
And on my wrist and in my mouth
Do's open, do's close
Where's the camera I'll strike a pose

I'm still ridin' on elbows
In eighty-threes and eighty-fo's
The gangsta slab is what I flip
Woodgrain is what I grip
That purple drank is what I sip
In my cell phone keep a chip

I'm talkin' bid'ness I put it down
I'm choppin' blades and I'm poppin' shrooms
I'm from the land of that fry smoke
Got plex I got the pump
Weighted trunk and chunk the deuce
Keep it movin' I'm on the prowl

I'm on the hunt for some one night love
Best believe that it's goin' down
Money and hoes, cars and clothes
Diamond rings and ice grills
Swisha House we keep it trill
And hold it down baby what's the deal

Eighty-fo's, candy paint
Switchin' lanes, sippin' drank
Eighty-fo's, candy paint
Switchin' lanes, sippin' drank

Eighty-fo's, candy paint
Switchin' lanes, sippin' drank
Eighty-fo's, candy paint
Switchin' lanes, sippin' drank

We put them 47 inch jelly
Screens in them Escalade
We po' that purple drank
Straight up like it's that Kool-Aid
We like them girls
That eat it up and never be afraid

While you cry but ask
How they givin' up the fade
Ye ain't got screens
If they ain't touch screen
With the removable screen
Lookin' mean on the scene

When hoes see me
They sayin' everybody ain't able
'Cause I turned the back of my Caddy
Pickup into a pool table

Juicy J, I'm the mayne
Got the G's, fuck the fame
See a lil' freak, run some game
And she goin' I'm a take some brain
I'm on the slab, posted up
White Cadillac with the white guts

I'm on the scene, drankin' lean
Mixed with Spire in a plastic cup
I'm from the hood, call it North
Where Project Pat went to jail and court
But now he back on the Southern bricks
We gonna drink a lot and players smoke
Newport uptown

Hit the blush, or watch
These diamonds blind you up
Nothin' but self-made millionaires
So you can shut the fuck

Eighty-fo's, candy paint
Switchin' lanes, sippin' drank
Eighty-fo's, candy paint
Switchin' lanes, sippin' drank

Eighty-fo's, candy paint
Switchin' lanes, sippin' drank
Eighty-fo's, candy paint
Switchin' lanes, sippin' drank

I got a deep freezer up on my neck
And snow cones up in my ear
A ice tray up in my mouth
I'm lookin' somethin' like a chandelier
You can call me the ice man
I cause a blizzard every time I breathe
Posted up on that South Lee
With Big Mix and my boy Lil' Heat

Where's the drank I'm runnin' low
Cabbage Head told me it's a drought
But not to worry dough never doubt
I'll go to the doctor with a cough
It's Paul Wall baby that's my name
Fly like a plane what it do
I drop the top of my potnah plaque
And chunk the deuce to that boy Gooch

Just like a midget I'm sittin' low
And like a snail I'm crawlin' slow
Where's Mike, where's Bawdy
He on the grind ducked on the low
Yeah, I like my music slow
Yeah, I like my train mud
I'm chopped up by Michael Watts
It's Paul Wall baby that's what's up

Eighty-fo's, candy paint
Switchin' lanes, sippin' drank
Eighty-fo's, candy paint
Switchin' lanes, sippin' drank

I'm a playa, ain't no doubt
Hoes wanna know what I'm 'bout
I'm a playa, ain't no doubt
Hoes wanna know what I'm 'bout
I'm a playa, ain't no doubt
Hoes wanna know what I'm 'bout

I'm a playa, I'm a playa
I'm a playa, I'm a playa
I'm a playa, I'm a playa

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6dfd45e42f6ecf2582fd41bd5c84c724

Yellow Brick Road - Lyrics - Luniz

Title: Yellow Brick Road
Artist: Luniz
Composer(s): Jerold Jr Ellis, Joseph Johnson, Garrick Husband

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

Lyric:
Eh, eh, eh, yo mama got a long ass throat, when she drink milk
By the time it get to her stomach it's spoiled
Where you get that cream from man?
The ice cream man, man, that nigga ain't no muthafuckin' joke

Hold on, hold on, close the blinds, 'cause
'Cause the neighbors are lookin'
What? Nigga let's get busy man, I'm ready to hit this big shit man
You know what I'm sayin', this is big, big
Get that kid outta here

Whoa, the kids, man get the kids outta here
Close the door, 'cause they gonna tell on us
Eh, I'm blazin' this up fo tha ice cream man nigga
Uh, uh, uh, yeah

It's the ice cream man
Bitch don't you hear the music
I got the shit fiends holla if you wanna use it

It's the ice cream man
Bitch don't you hear the music
I got the shit fiends holla if you wanna use it

This shit is to be to let go, so welcome to the ghetto
Got no love from my moms an pops
Had to creep an caulk heat wit my fellows

Niggaz from the Big O, always down to scuffle
Had the hustle from the get go
An' didn't no, body, give a fuck about Jerold
Not when I had hella dirt an lint in my dried up ass curl

Hit the dice game, hurled off the night train
So hang that four-fifth at my brain
If you want me to do the right thang
Ever since my eyes open, I musta really sell dope in

The 6-9 Village of East Oakland, hopin', my dad would come back
But that fool vamp, now my mama spend the checks
On woozy's an the food stamps

That's why my ass was pumpin' gas, an shootin' craps
So I can make me some rootin'-tootin' scratch
No dap from the school hoes, now why did I cut school
Fuck school, 'cause me didn't have no school clothes

I had to go, hook up, a book up, now I'm a crook up
On the late night posted, slangin' cakes like Hostess
Sumthin' ferocious, mo candy than Reese Pieces
Fo human species, that wanna swap fo TVs an VCs

I'm ready, like Heav D, nuttin' but love fo ya
Fedi dubbs fo ya, the only nigga would glove fo ya
It's me, the ice creamery
So weasel down the Yellow Brick Road while I fold the greenery

It's the ice cream man
Bitch don't you hear the music
I got the shit fiends holla if you wanna use it

It's the ice cream man
Bitch don't you hear the music
I got the shit fiends holla if you wanna use it

You wonder why, I became the ice cream man
'Cause I knocked straight hands
But niggaz on my block didn't understand
That I was born to be a factor

If roses what I play, to get paid, then don't fade
But first give a nigga props, fo ditchin' cops
I couldn't work, so I knew a nigga couldn't stop

Slangin' mo yay than the next man
If I come up, don't get mad
Just give a pound to let the best stand

'Cause I done tried gettin' twenty off a note
I been there, slangin' fo the next nigga still broke
He flippin' shit, but you ain't, you fuck around an crumble
Then you come up short on yo bundle

An plus the dope fiends be gafflin', rolled out all yo scratch
You broke, so you whips up a dangle batch
To get enough to cop a zip, I'm stackin' up my grip
Got my 380 out so I don't slip

I need some real folks to come up, niggaz wit some guts
Plots an set up shop, wit Dru an Yuk
My lick mates, 100 percent hustlaz, games an heists
Quick to lick a niggaz house on bikes

Twice the game, bigga the endin', endin' rules
Much shit, an tucked tens is what I'm sendin' fools
I goes through all shit, to lick a ball bitch
To law shit, and then I'm off wit the Lootchie

My game is ready to be sold
I got my stripes fo followin' the Yellow Brick Road

It's the ice cream man
Bitch don't you hear the music
I got the shit fiends holla if you wanna use it

It's the ice cream man
Bitch don't you hear the music
I got the shit fiends holla if you wanna use it

Now I'm the ice cream man, bitch
Don't you see the man sittin' on gold ones
Dishin' off half, zips, an whole ones, no one
Could stop the Operation Stackola
A black soldier slangin' crack only fo scratchola

I told ya, I do it to fold ya, straight over nighter
Then flag the driver down wit my flash lighter
He speak, "Please G, please don't say no to me
Fo the cream, I dream, I fiend like Jodeci"

Notice he had a G ready to spend it, splendid
Got my shit so I won't get apprehended
Once again it's on, I gets my bail on
Weasel down the Yellow Brick Road wit hoes an my mail on

I chops cream, seems like the whole block is holdin' now
Broke my triple beam, 'cause the whole scene is rollin' now
Hope I can get to break it down an hold thangs, wit my luck
Num an Yuk, wit gold thangs on the ice cream truck

Nut up wit nuthin's, stroll down the Yellow Brick Road
Quick to lick fo some paper to fold, stole my whole load
What you want a nigga to get hurt fo?
My operation don't include spendin' on the turf hoe

The quickest nigga to finish, I cruise some
Can't be too dumb, sewed up the block, where you from?
So float on, an roll on, an understand, easin' down the road
It's the ice cream man

It's the ice cream man
Bitch don't you hear the music
I got the shit fiends holla if you wanna use it

It's the ice cream man
Bitch don't you hear the music
I got the shit fiends holla if you wanna use it

It's the ice cream man
Biatch

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08b9175ceeaca8c6ac5d4f37a938284d

Beat Novacane - Lyrics - All or Nothing - Fat Joe

Title: Beat Novacane
Album: All or Nothing
Artist: Fat Joe
Composer(s): Khaled Khaled, Joseph Cartagena

Lyric:
Wonder if we all V-S'es'us
Wanna know the streets that we fuss
Now sit back and witness the director's cut
And niggaz throw your T.S.'s up
(Beat Novacane)

Go figure it, Joe Crack runnin' New York
Who woulda thunk it, God above and Pun did
Yeah, they came while I was 'sleep
Whispered in my ear this is your year
(Crack preach)

So I testify
To burn down the throne, niggaz follow my lead
Save your breath for crownin' me King of N.Y.
I'm the one and only godfather, one through three

Pardon me, but I was raised in the projects
Forgettin' I wasn't the only object
We was more concerned with cuttin' up and choppin'
Supplyin' fiends with that work, get it poppin'

Now who wanna pop off 'til they head get popped off
By the realest MC and that's me
Joe Crack the Don, I came from the streets
Knee deep in the game, other half in the streets

I got that permit to bury ya ice grill
Shoulda named this album hurr, 'Licensed To Kill'
Ahh, yes my life chilly chill
Mansion in Miami, other in the Jersey Hills

Chill, that's that '88 flow
Small face 20's, that's that '88 dough
Joey Jefferson, I'm on the 88th flo'
Cali hit with that talk nigga
(Un-un-un-unbelievable)

One Phantom, two castles and a Jeep fo'
Five mics a classic, kinda like my six-fo'
Several years I earned cake, let me tell you more
Joey Crack, A.K.A. '88, Cook Coke

One Phantom, two castles and a Jeep fo'
Five mics a classic, kinda like my six-fo'
Several years I earned cake, let me tell you more
Joey Crack, A.K.A. '88, Cook Coke

Wonder why I paint a picture of the street life so vivid I lived it
Y'all dudes innocent, y'all just visitin'
And that's the reason why they call me ghetto
D.O. have you homeless [Incomprehensible] diggin' deep holes

Police know, but just couldn't figure me out
I'm like [Incomprehensible], have 'em makin' pies in the house
It's grill, spit fire like I never been out
And I ain't gon' retire 'til there's never a doubt

The wheels in my head keep spinnin'
I'm thinkin' anybody go against me losin' chil'ren
I'm thinkin' there's no better time than now to start some killin'
It's Cook Coke Crack, 2005's ghetto version of Achilles nigga

One Phantom, two castles and a Jeep fo'
Five mics a classic, kinda like my six-fo'
Several years I earned cake, let me tell you more
Joey Crack, A.K.A. '88, Cook Coke

One Phantom, two castles and a Jeep fo'
Five mics a classic, kinda like my six-fo'
Several years I earned cake, let me tell you more
Joey Crack, A.K.A. '88, Cook Coke

Yo, yo, loop this and you crash the remix
And forget who you thought I was, I'm Crack, beyotch
The same dude that made you lean back
And had that nigga Mase spittin' that gangsta shit

Can't wait 'til my nigga Shyne come home
Six minutes, six minutes, Joey Crack you're on
Is my microphone on? Yes
New York, look I brought the championship home

Now, throw up your peace signs to the sky
For all our soldiers that died
That means Biggie Smalls, Tupac, Big L and Left Eye
And Big Pun the greatest of all time, sing it with me now

One Phantom, two castles and a Jeep fo'
Five mics a classic, kinda like my six-fo'
Several years I earned cake, let me tell you more
Joey Crack, A.K.A. '88, Cook Coke

One Phantom, two castles and a Jeep fo'
Five mics a classic, kinda like my six-fo'
Several years I earned cake, let me tell you more
Joey Crack, A.K.A. '88, Cook Coke

Wonder if we all V-S'es'us
Wanna know the streets that we fuss
Now sit back and witness the director's cut
And niggaz throw your T.S.'s up

Wonder if we all V-S'es'us
Wanna know the streets that we fuss
Now sit back and witness the director's cut
And niggaz throw your T.S.'s up

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6867c9b8d1f84b6a237dd50c8a9c9712

So Much More - Lyrics - All or Nothing - Fat Joe

Title: So Much More
Album: All or Nothing
Artist: Fat Joe
Composer(s): Marcello Valenzano, Andre Lyon, Joseph Cartagena, Roger Troutman, Shirley Murdock, Larry Troutman

Lyric:
This is, this is, this is
Cook! Cool n Dre!
Ain't nobody seeing this right here, we see nobody

I know you came to party so, get up on yo feet
Yeah baby, just trip that body and sing along wit me, come on
I know you've been searchin' for someone who satisfies you
And gives you so much more

Caution when my lip just twitch to one side
We don't bitch, we don't snitch, we thick, and just ride
And I, never gave a fuck about Popo
Niggaz so gangsta, making songs bout my 4, 4

My, my, my fo, fo, fo, fo, fo, fo
It gets worse, kick my shit when I visit the church
I'm down wit TD Jakes and Kirk Franklin
Better have my offerin' plate filled wit' Franklins

Blasphemy, I got niggaz that'll blast for me
Ribs touchin' and they askin' me, Crack! Nigga!
Show me where the safe bet, I'll lay 'em down with the mac
Leave 'em face flat, listen

You don't wanna start no drama
We don't scrap when there's problems we just clap and revolve 'em
And get it coke, let it go, head it mo', sippin' mo
Didn't know? Better know now

I know you came to party so, get up on yo feet
Yeah baby, just trip that body and sing along wit me, come on
I know you've been searchin' for someone who satisfies you
And gives you so much more

Puff and pass in the Hilton suite
Crush and pass, is the sick, tape me
I'll probably when I, ask her didn't know the dick ten feet
You'll need a ladder just to sit on me

In the race screamin' Viva Tito
Wit' Don 'kee Maddison Square, Arena people
I pull Mammi to the side, she feel me
Yellin' punta a gasolina

Now how many bricks does it take to marble out a 36 room estate
Follow me, I'm from Philly where they eat cheese steaks in a red belly
All a bitch V8, it's Joe cr-eal, for-real
And even warn the kids in school on coke deals, Crack!
And that's the seltzer you should know how the shit gon' go
Follow me, come on

I know you came to party so, get up on yo feet
Yeah baby, just trip that body and sing along wit me, come on
I know you've been searchin' for someone who satisfies you
And gives you so much more

Hold up, wait a minute
[Incomprehensible]

And we don't see nobody
Make your hair stand up like you're 'Growin Up Gotti'
Hit lyrics every time we come out, nigga
Use a fist 'fo' it come out ya mouth

The way I'm stackin' white these days
Looking like a chick that go wit Flava Flav
And I'm so so real, niggaz wanna kill the Don
Front of my house, probably wit my son in my arms

But I drop 'em like its hot
Pass 'em the glock, my little shorty's a chip off the old block
Go against Coke, let 'em and show
I give you 10 ways to kill off the whole block

I know you came to party so, get up on yo feet
Yeah baby, just trip that body and sing along wit me, come on
I know you've been searchin' for someone who satisfies you
And gives you so much more

I know you came to party so, get up on yo feet
Yeah baby, just trip that body and sing along wit me, come on
I know you've been searchin' for someone who satisfies you
And gives you so much more

Yeah, that's how a motherfucker go down
3 o'clock in the mornin', M. I. A nigga
Missin' in action down in Miami nigga
Bitch, its Crack! Cool n Dre, realz
Uh, sound all fuckin' shitty

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0c04600a68cc848e40964e9a061d8e07

My Music - Lyrics - On Top of Our Game - Dem Franchize Boyz

Title: My Music
Album: On Top of Our Game
Artist: Dem Franchize Boyz
Composer(s): Chad Butler, Jermaine Dupri, Bernard James Freeman, Maurice Gleaton, Bernard Leverette, James Phillips, Gerald Tiller, Leroy Williams, Jamall Willingham

Lyric:
Dis dat soso def shit

Make my music for the boyz with the O's
The old school pro's in the strip club
Make my music for the boyz with the O's
The old school pro's in the strip club

Every time I do it, u know just who I do it fo'
My o.g. niggaz, my gurls in the strip club
And fa my top cats thats block cruisin'
Thats for the coops serve the rocks on the block music

And any club, any party don't rock dis
I'm sendin' my trend dawg its lean wit it, rock wit it
And fo' the projects buildings behind the locked gates
They do wut they gotta do and hustle at a top rate

Movin dem o's makin' dey pension
We grind til we ride sittin' on 24 inches
My ghetto niggaz and bitches know how to keep it hood
I keep it gutta Im'a gangsta u know just how I do it

Make my music for the boyz with the O's
The old school pro's in the strip club
Make my music for the boyz with the O's
The old school pro's in the strip club

I?m the shit you can't say I?m not
I keep white keep purp like a crayon box
Aay, and got a nice whipped game and I can't lie
Shit I could cook coke on a camp fire

Put it in my hands, I can make it go
If I can't move it then I'ma call Tony yo
I let the bullets from my gun spread
Sippin' hard while u down on the corn bread

First I droppin? the mix
Hit the pot like a Edward and bought 8 bricks
Yup, in my white tee so u know I keep it white
And I keep green like a traffic light

Make my music for the boyz with the O's
The old school pro's in the strip club

Yo pimpin', u know who it be its B.U.N to the little b
One hundred and one percent gangsta check my pedagree
Movin? thru yo? city like a muthafuckin? mayor
Hate on me nigga like I muthafuckin? care

I?m the king of the trill, got the streets in a head lock
A head busta piece so heads up I keep the lead cocked
Sellin' mo yayo than u could stuff in a bread box
And im'a keep on pushin even when the fed's flop

I represent the trill, I stand up fo? the hood
I?m holdin? down the underground just like a nigga should
UGK and DFB we do it fo? the block
Dem d boyz in the trap holdin? work keepin? it cocked
It don?t stop

I make my music for the ones servin' J's, servin' j's
The bitches in the club shakin' ass fo the pay, fo the pay
Fo' the ones one the block, ten hoe block holders
Fo' the ones that'll knock ya head off ya shoulders

Thats gangsta I doin? fo? the thugz
And the bitches in the hood on erry type of drug
Shipped across the border from purp to the cola
I hustle spreewells like fa three ten and molderz

Pond shop niggaz, keep a couple handguns
Chopper in the trunk and they keep one in the head son
B. un is out the test u wanna test son
My motive is to kill a nigga shoot above the chest boy

Make my music for the boyz with the O's
The old school pro's in the strip club

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6dd34a129caeeac457bfa6cf8b1bd782

Do U Wanna Roll - Lyrics - R.L.

Title: Do U Wanna Roll
Artist: R.L.
Composer(s): Calvin Broadus, Kevin Gilliam, Robert Lavelle Huggar, Kimberly Jones, Larry Troutman, Roger Troutman

Lyric:
Something about the west coast
That makes me thank the east
(East side)
It's something about the west coast
(Ah, yeah)
That makes me thank the east
(Help me sing)

Say u wanna roll?
(Do u wanna roll?)
In my '4
And have some fun, baby
Let's have some fun

We'll get low
(Let's get low)
And that's fo' sho'
(That's fo' sho')
And hop on doves, baby
And have some fun
Now check us out

From when I met you at the roller rink
Kinda funny with your Shasta drink
Braids with barrettes that were white and pink
While the kissin', we did was on the cheek

Remember like yesterday
We hop on a bus and just right away
Knew you'd be mine somehow, some way
And I must say I do

Say u wanna roll
(Think I wanna roll)
In my '4
And have some fun, baby
Let's have some fun

Oh, we'll get low
(We'll get low)
And that's fo' sho'
(That's fo' sho')
And hop on doves, baby
And have some fun
(Snoop, help me out)
Now check us out

Three battles or more, dope models fo' sho'
We havin' a good time, avoidin' one time
Blingin' in the sunshine, it's all gravy
Dip-dip, hit a switch, what's crackin', baby

Ride with it, slide with a double up
Sip on this mo-mo, get your bubble on
Bring your girlfriends, all y'all can come along
'Cause we'll be doin' this all summer long

In the Cadillac, beatin' up some battle cats
No, you's a fool, well, baby, let me handle that
Oh, you don't drink so you don't think
You can't wink, you ain't gon' speak, you ain't no freak

'Cause I can turn you, learn you and burn you up
Give me a cup, sit down and shut up
I'll be damn, we done ran up out of Mo' again
Here we, here we go again
(Do u wanna roll?)

Say u wanna roll
(Do u wanna roll?)
In my '4
(In my '4)
And have some fun, baby
Let's have some fun

Oh, we'll get low
(We'll get low)
And that's fo' sho'
(That's fo' sho')
And hop on doves, baby
And have some fun
Now check us out

I got a Chevrolet
White walls and them twenty inch thangs
In the Coup with Snoop hittin' juice on trues
Top down, I feel the sun rays

Feelin' kinda good right now
Rollin' 'round my hood right now
We can find somethin' to do like a barbecue
Or jump hot tub in the house

A little bit of music and a couple of babes
A little bit of drink and a game of spades
Take yo' kids to yo' mama house
Y'all know what I'm talkin' 'bout
It's 'bout to go down

Say u wanna roll
(Think I wanna roll)
In my '4
And have some fun, baby
Let's have some fun

Oh, we'll get low
(We'll get low)
And that's fo'sho'
(That's fo's ho')
And hop on doves, baby
And have some fun
Now check us out

I die, I admit I'm tight cookie
Take trips to Cali strictly for the sticky
I'ma get it crunk anywhere I go
Why you smooth haters actin' like y'all don't know

From barbecues to bar mitzvahs
OGs crack the OE while they listen to me
Cris' on the table, chronic in the air
Come on pass that shh, like that's that shh

We can go valley cat, bumpers in your Sony
The Bee showin' love to the west side homies
I'll give you somethin' you can feel, real recognize the real
'Cause, 'cause it's somethin' 'bout the east coast

That make us wanna squeeze most
But don't go think that we ride
We'll show you how we do the damn thing
We're gonna show you how we do it right

Say you wanna roll
(I think I wanna roll)
In my '4
And have some fun, baby
Let's have some fun

Oh, we'll get low
(We'll get low)
And that's fo' sho'
(That's fo' sho')
And hop on doves, baby
And have some fun

Say you wanna roll
(Do you wanna roll?)
In my '4
(In my '4)
And have some fun, baby
(We'll have some fun)
Let's have some fun
(We'll have some fun)

Oh, we'll get low
(And we'll get low, low, low)
And that's fo' sho'
(And that's fo' sho')
And hop on doves, baby
(We'll hop on doves)
And have some fun
(Do ya, do ya)
Now check us out

Crunk roll your flip gently down the street
With the DPG, S-N-double-O-P
R.L. an the Queen Bee
Do u wanna roll, roll?

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dfaae53dfc3e62ddc55756d00db5bab4

Movin’ On Up - Lyrics - Curtis - 50 Cent

Title: Movin’ On Up
Album: Curtis
Artist: 50 Cent
Composer(s): Freddie Perren, Christine Yarian Perren, Curtis James Jackson, Leon Ware, J Dutton

Lyric:
The realest thing you could do
Is put a drum beat with nothing but a drum beat

Niggas, niggas copy my style Russ
That's why I switch up on ?em knahmean?
Man, nigga sound like me

I run the show now, I got the blow now
You wanna hold now? You can come cop
I'm on the low now, I got the fo' pound
In case a motherfucker got to get shot

The old timers tell me, slow down
See they know now, I won't hesitate to make shit hot
D's will shut your block down, after your shot down
We gonna come through and set up shop

You niggas gon' work for me now, you gon' see now
How I change shit, rearrange shit
See for you dog, this is new shit
I'm from Southside, nigga we do this

They say I'm grimey, it's hard to find me
When the sun lighten up the sky
Niggas wanna line me, try and kill me
Go 'head, nigga, I dare you to try, fuck that, nigga

We movin? on up, yeah, we gettin' that dough fo' sho'
We movin? on up, yo' whip chromed up
Cash is flow fo' sho, the dough, nigga, you know what?

We movin? on up, yeah, we gettin' that dough fo' sho'
We movin? on up, yo' whip chromed up
Cash is flow fo' sho, the dough, nigga, you know what?

I?m 'bout my bread now, I'll cut your head now
You know you eatin' niggas, you should be dead now
I hold a glock down, I gotta drop now
Nigga, I'm eatin', you know I ain?t gon' stop now

One more trip, one more flip
I move a truckload, nigga, not one brick
They make me so sick, fuckin' sick to my stomach
You niggas talk shit, but they know they don't want it

My clicks so sick, niggas know how we on it
Light up more shit, the car there when we on it
I spit a gem star, get'cha carved my name on yo' neck
Have my lil' homies run up on yo' ass with the tech

Yeah, I stunt in the Vette, got stash in the bank
I get head in the whip, I get ass on the jet
I'm, oh, so fresh, so motherfuckin' clean
24 inch gleam, when I pull up on the scene

We movin? on up, yeah, we gettin' that dough fo' sho'
We movin? on up, yo' whip chromed up
Cash is flow fo' sho, the dough, nigga, you know what?

We movin? on up, yeah, we gettin' that dough fo' sho'
We movin? on up, yo' whip chromed up
Cash is flow fo' sho, the dough, nigga, you know what?

Been smokin' that dip, the PCP got 'em thinkin'
They can walk on water
That ecstasy will have a nigga rock hard
Tryna fuck your daughter

The LSD will have niggas runnin' ?round
Tryna kill you for us
Smokin' that piff, sippin' that yak
Talkin' that shit, loadin' that strap

We movin? on up, yeah, we gettin' that dough fo' sho'
We movin? on up, yo' whip chromed up
Cash is flow fo' sho, the dough, nigga, you know what?

We movin? on up, yeah, we gettin' that dough fo' sho'
We movin? on up, yo' whip chromed up
Cash is flow fo' sho, the dough, nigga, you know what?

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d62624da6db3bdcd8d9ef71fe7974cdb

10 Million Ways - Lyrics - Mack 10

Title: 10 Million Ways
Artist: Mack 10
Composer(s): Dedrick Rolison, O'Shea Jackson

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

Lyric:
'Cause if you fuck with us
We leave scars
'Cause if you fuck with us
We leave scars

'Cause if you fuck with us
We leave scars
'Cause if you fuck with us
We leave scars

Tick tock around the clock for the rock ya come see me
Just knock at the door I'll grant your wish like a genie
Strait out to get paid stack the loot that I made
Been slangin' dope out my mammas' house since the 10th grade

Never tried it can't deny it in the tiots was a looter
Used to hang with drive by shooters, stick 'em up for Honda scooters
Never was a scholar make you throw yo hands and holla
Wolla went to Jr. High slangin' joints fo a dollar

Finger waves was the new fad so they spoted a due rags
Niggas got dumped on fo the red or blue rags
Down with the G's so them niggas never serve me
Bellin' through the hood in my honeycomb Jersey

Painter pants cuffed so I fix it on my biscuits
Till my hair get long enough to brade my bitch I'll keep it twisted
It's that nigga runnin' wild punch the pedal to the meadow
And everywhere I go it's a must I keep it ghetto

'Cause if you fuck with us
We leave scars
Motherfucker crime pays
In 10 millions ways

'Cause if you fuck with us
We leave scars
Motherfucker crime pays
In 10 millions ways

Choose one, choose one
Choose one, choose one
1 2 3 4, hit it
Choose one, choose one
Choose one, choose one
1 2 3 4, hit it

24/7 on a 211
Fresh out the county I hunt like a bounty
From 10 to midnight make sure my shit tight
Map out the lick right so that I hit right

I strike to stay alive to be exact need a sack
Can't hack this monkey on my back
So I shot it now you plot it I got it
Exotic to erotic money ho's to narcotics

No preachin' knowledge of self or religion
I'm too busy raisin' pit bulls and pigeons
Put the hustle down steady for the summer
I'm ready way tighter got two birds and a rider

But I'm out fo mo nigga can't get enough doe
Place my hands on the fo fo
Arm robbery is my hobby
So I gotta sickum then lickum now who's my next victim

'Cause if you fuck with us
We leave scars
Motherfucker crime pays
In 10 millions ways

'Cause if you fuck with us
We leave scars
Motherfucker crime pays
In 10 millions ways

Choose one, choose one
Choose one, choose one
1 2 3 4, hit it
Choose one, choose one
Choose one, choose one
1 2 3 4, hit it

Got the plak in the back straight rag top
Peepin' the scene with the gangsta lean
Super clean in and out make you weak at the knees
I watch fo the thieves on my hunt spoke D's

Stereo type foe life from the streets where the palms trees sway
And the money parlay
Fo block niggas got the hoes like sewed up
Bitches on my nuts every since I first showed up

BG nigga with my though skins hangin'
Tryin' to look like my big homies that was bangin'
Slangin' like 90 goin' north with the cavey
Twistin' through the hood in a 83 caddy

Coupe Deville I packs my big still
'Cause it's sittin' on white ones with the two way tight ones
And as I floss I keeps my Nina Ross
Cocked with the clipin' to catch a nigga slippin'

'Cause if you fuck with us
We leave scars
Motherfucker crime pays
In 10 millions ways

'Cause if you fuck with us
We leave scars
Motherfucker crime pays
In 10 millions ways

(Let me [Incomprehensible] the way)
Choose one, choose one
Choose one, choose one
1 2 3 4, hit it
(Let me [Incomprehensible] the way)
Choose one, choose one
Choose one, choose one
1 2 3 4, hit it

'Cause if you fuck with us
We leave scars
Motherfucker crime pays
In 10 millions ways

'Cause if you fuck with us
We leave scars
Motherfucker crime pays
In 10 millions ways

(Let me [Incomprehensible] the way)
Choose one, choose one
Choose one, choose one
1 2 3 4, hit it
(Let me [Incomprehensible] the way)
Choose one, choose one
Choose one, choose one
1 2 3 4, hit it

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7f86e1381eee785acf0f6fe1c2d131b0

Bring Back Somethin Fo Da Hood - Lyrics - It Takes A Thief - Coolio

Title: Bring Back Somethin Fo Da Hood
Album: It Takes A Thief
Artist: Coolio
Composer(s): Artis Ivey, Ralph Macdonald, Donnie Sterling, George Jr Clinton, Brian Dobbs, Ronald Dunbar, William Salter

Lyric:
This record goes out to all you fake ass
Gangsta baller bueschwa-minded ass house niggas
Who forget their color, put on a suit an' tie
An' escape from the ghetto an' don't never come back
Yeah, motherfucker, you can run but you sure can't hide

Deep down in the jungle with a crack to the throat
Niggas kill niggas for steppin' on their toe
A girl is a bitch an' a lady is a ho'
When anythin' goes for a little bit o'docey

Shit get cooked by thugs an' crooks
With the knowledge of a scholar but they don't read books
Everyday is a chance that ya life might go
So today is a day that ya gotta get paid

Slang them ki's, make them G's
Do what'cha want but ya sell what'cha please
But don't forget where you come from
'Cos when you do that, you're done

Remember your niggas an' bitches an' your Trojans
An' take it to your pockets for some fitness
When ya get it goin' an' ya got it goin' good
Ya better bring back somethin' for da hood

Bring back somethin' fo da hood, motherfucker
Bring back somethin' fo da hood
Bring back somethin' fo da hood, motherfucker
Bring back somethin' fo da hood

LA County, what's goin' on?
1993, modern day Babylon
Peace to the niggas from the street
An' rest in peace to the others that's six feet deep

Welcome to the fool an' he strikes when he's back
An' the snake come around, go around an' get ape
Top down, slipped on co-run, they none
Every [Incomprehensible] ain't no fun

Black cop, white cop
Fuck the color of skin, make sure he shot
Escape from a jail cell, split away from Hell
An' all I want for Christmas is a glock an' some shells

Billy Boy takes the pictures, [Incomprehensible]
Five by seven on my switch, we got out early
Taddle-tails get dropped an' they get got good
So get this [Incomprehensible] for the hood

Get that nigga fo da hood, motherfucker
Get that nigga fo da hood
Get that nigga fo da hood, motherfucker
Get that nigga fo da hood

Them niggas ain't playin', them niggas ain't playin'
Them niggas ain't playin', them niggas ain't playin'
What'cha gonna do when you get out of jail?
Get that nigga fo da hood

You must remember dis, if you're black an' you're rich
When push come to shove, they'll take your shit
Martin Luther King didn't wear a diamond ring
But he had a dream to let freedom reign

My homie, Red Foxx got played like blocks
Pick 'em up sticks, jacks an' hop-scotch
[Incomprehensible] aggravation, there's no end to the situation
'Cos niggas need a place to meet, a place to sleep
A place to eat an' rest they feet

But nobody really even gives a fuck
That's why so many niggas is [Incomprehensible]
You claimin' the hood but you don't back it up, fool
An' when they catch ya ass, they gonna fuck you up

So when you get it goin' an' ya got it goin' good
You better bring back somethin' fo da hood

Bring back somethin' fo da hood, motherfucker
Bring back somethin' fo da hood
Bring back somethin' fo da hood, motherfucker
Bring back somethin' fo da hood

Bring back somethin' fo da hood, motherfucker
Bring back somethin' fo da hood
Bring back somethin' fo da hood, motherfucker
Bring back somethin' fo da hood

Bring back somethin' fo da hood, motherfucker

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9efeacad29fe3162142af4cc7931e645

Can'T Go Wrong - Lyrics - Smoke Boogie: Space Oddessey - Kurupt

Title: Can'T Go Wrong
Album: Smoke Boogie: Space Oddessey
Artist: Kurupt
Composer(s): David Blake, Ricardo Brown, Danny Means

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

Lyric:
The reason that I'm here, I'ma drop 'til it's clear
Let all, G'z to front, middle and rear
Switches couldn't switch like these switches a day
Just to sit and sippin' and dippin' all over the ways

That they ears and chairs, dis on this years
Cokes drippin' off juice and gins
As a matter of fact, takes mathical fact
And you can't de-grate, y'all get played like a sax

Trumpet to trombone
Too shotty Young Gotti, millennium bone
If she raggedly, I'm sendin' 'em home
Puttin' 10 in the chrome, lettin' all killin' it's on

It don't quit, it don't stop
Let the beat knock, beat knock
Pull up at the spot, pull up at the spot, in a drop top
Gettin' what I got, I just

Can't go wrong, releasin' all my lost hood songs
Don't give a damn on the real, I say just what I feel
No matter whatchu say, I'll never stop my bust style way
No time fo' da game, I do it my way

Kurupt, what up

I'ma drop 'til it's clear
And these re-beams and pumps is Vietnam time
Tossin' C-notes, the, 'Magnificent Magneto'
Dippin' through, comin' like ay

Don't expect nothin' less, these gleam on the tray
All night and all day, it's the best in a 2001 S S
It's the prince of the West, I ain't tryna do much
Tryna do too much, I ain't even really trippin'

It's just me, Snoopy and Quik and someone like you
Wit' the biggest mouth to put a dick in
Most of y'all malfunction like faulty equipment
Shifted, drifted, different, up lifted

Kurupt Young Gotti, just call me fall beaty
With the skirts from Tahiti workin' at the mall
With young Roscoe, you fool in high school
I just tuck my Roscoe, dump fossils, colossal, I

Can't go wrong, releasin' all my lost hood songs
Don't give a damn on the real, I say just what I feel
No matter whatchu say, I'll never stop my bust style way
No time fo' da game, I do it my way

Yes, 1, 2, fuck wit' my crew
And we won't stop poppin' 'til ya body turn blue
3, 4, look at that whore with the fat ass
But without the cash, hit the door

The reason that I'm here, Kurupt done bought the beer
I'ma lush, lookin' fo' the cush, lookin'
Fo' the bush to push and mush back
I'll hump the ho if she ain't been needin' a Dusch bag

No, must've been the Gucci, wit' hair that's pushed back
In a bun lookin' fun gettin' silly, wit' my celly from Billy
Brought to you by way or two buns
We smugglin' in and out of the place, our two guns

Notice, see the Q U I, Dogg Pound collabo', yup
We stab hoes in the bladder actin' bad wit' the mad hoes
Get out, yeah, look here, we started this pussy shit, no shit
And these the mothafuckin' hoes we get, c'mon

Can't go wrong, releasin' all my lost hood songs
Don't give a damn on the real, I say just what I feel
No matter whatchu say, I'll never stop my bust style way
No time fo' da game, I do it my way

Can't go wrong, releasin' all my lost hood songs
Don't give a damn on the real, I say just what I feel
No matter whatchu say, I'll never stop my bust style way
No time fo' da game, I do it my way

{Aight, y'all this a mothafuckin' public service announcement
From Mr. X to tha mothafuckin' Z Xzibit
My homeboy Kurupt, to all you half ass mothafuckas comin' around
Pussy ass niggas, tryin' to see what's up wit my homeboy}

{And see what's up wit me, nigga is he this, is he that
Nigga I'm a mothafuckin' killa and it's like this nigga
If I had a doller fo' every time you bitch ass niggas
Came around and didn't do shit, I'll be a billionaire right now
Put up or shut up mothafuckas, it's like this, it's on, onsite}

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b4620e7ad009ca6ee09d36aa5abbeaf6

Poor Lil Rich - Lyrics - Get Rich Or Die Tryin' - 50 Cent

Title: Poor Lil Rich
Album: Get Rich Or Die Tryin'
Artist: 50 Cent
Composer(s): Curtis James Jackson, Michael J. Clervoix

Lyric:
I let my watch talk for me, my whip talk for me
My gat talk for me, bow! What up homie?
My watch saying, "Hi shorty, we can be friends?"
My whip saying, "Quit playing bitch get in"
My earring saying, "We can hit the mall together"
Shorty, it's only right that we ball together
I'm into bigger things y'all niggaz y'all know my style
Ya wrist bling bling, my shit bling blow

My pinky ring talk it say, "50 I'm sick"
That's why these niggaz is on my dick
Some hate me, some love my hits
Flex my man, he gon' bump my shit
See I'm alive, man I really don't care
I tell them hoes whatever they wanna hear
You try and play me I'ma blaze it in
My chromes cost more than the crib ya Momma raised ya in

I was a poor nigga
Now I'm a rich nigga
Getting paper now you can't tell me shit, nigga
You can find me in the fo' dot six nigga
In the backseat fondling ya bitch nigga

I was a poor nigga
Now I'm a rich nigga
Getting paper now you can't tell me shit, nigga
You can find me in the fo' dot six nigga
In the backseat fondling ya bitch, nigga

New York niggaz, cocky niggaz like it's all good
Fuck around we crip, walking in the wrong hood
I'm fresh up out the slammer, I ain't no fucking bama
I'm from the wild whody, but I know country grammar
See me I get it crunk, niggaz go head and front
I go up out the trunk, come back, rollout I'm done
My money come in lumps, my pockets got the mumps
You see me sitting on dubs, that's why you mad chump?

Don't make me hit ya up, 50 cent will split ya up
I lay you down, them carnids will come and get ya up
See 50 play fa keeps, and 50 stay wit heat
I can't go commercial, they love me in the street
I'm real bloody man, the hood love me, man
Don't make me show up in ya crib like bro-man
Locked up in a pen, I still do my thing
C O screaming shut the fuck up in the pen

I was a poor nigga
Now I'm a rich nigga
Getting paper now you can't tell me shit, nigga
You can find me in the fo' dot six nigga
In the backseat fondling ya bitch nigga

I was a poor nigga
Now I'm a rich nigga
Getting paper now you can't tell me shit, nigga
You can find me in the fo' dot six nigga
In the backseat fondling ya bitch nigga

I'm in the Benz on Monday, the BM on Tuesday
Range on Wednesday, Thursday I'm in the hooptay
Porsche on Friday, I do things my way
Vipe or Vette, I tear up the highway
Shorty, she can tell ya about my dick game
But she don't know me, she only know my nickname
Left the hood and came back, damn shit changed
These young boys, they done got they own work man

I was a poor nigga
Now I'm a rich nigga
Getting paper now you can't tell me shit, nigga
You can find me in the fo' dot six nigga
In the backseat fondling ya bitch nigga

I was a poor nigga
Now I'm a rich nigga
Getting paper now you can't tell me shit, nigga
You can find me in the fo' dot six nigga
In the backseat fondling ya bitch nigga

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430992ecac4faf8bc49a7da7dcab7341

Lay In My Bed - Lyrics - GO! - Mario

Title: Lay In My Bed
Album: GO!
Artist: Mario
Composer(s): Jamal F. Jones, Jr., Elvis L. Williams, Jasper Tremaine Cameron

Lyric:
Street love
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, listen

I don't wanna fight, I would rather kiss you
Come into this room, baby
Let me show you have much I miss you
What I gotta do to show you that I need you?
Baby, I'm back, do whatever you want me to

Please spend the night
I wanna make this right
Girl, what you leaving for?
(Leaving for)
Shawty, close the door

We oughta be making love instead of breaking up
Come on, baby, let me show you I'm fo' real
(Lay in my bed)
We oughta be making love instead of breaking up
Come on, baby, let me show you I'm fo' real
(Lay in my bed)

Listen, remember when I said I will never hurt you
You ain't gotta cry, I know all the things you been through
Baby, I ain't into satisfying nobody but you
Touching on no body but you, every thing I'm saying is true

Please spend the night
I wanna make this right
So what you leaving for?
(Leaving for)
Shawty, close the door

We oughta be making love instead of breaking up
Come on, baby, let me show you I'm fo' real
(Lay in my bed)
We oughta be making love instead of breaking up
Come on, baby, let me show you I'm fo' real
(Lay in my bed)

You don't have to go
Baby, don't leave 'cause I wanna love you
Don't wanna fight no more, stay right here
'Cause I just wanna love you, girl

I'm sorry, come on, I'm leaving up to you
We oughta be making love instead of breaking up
Come on, baby, let me show you I'm fo' real
(Lay in my bed)
We oughta be making love instead of breaking up
Come on, baby, let me show you I'm fo' real
(Lay in my bed)

We oughta be making love instead of breaking up
Come on, baby, let me show you I'm fo' real
(Lay in my bed)
We oughta be making love instead of breaking up
Come on, baby, let me show you I'm fo' real
(Lay in my bed)

Oh girl, oh girl
My lover

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d605878d94b65f2660db2962c3c01285

Tang Clan - Shaolin Worldwide - Lyrics - Wu

Title: Tang Clan - Shaolin Worldwide
Artist: Wu
Composer(s): Ronald Maurice Bean, Patrick Charles, Robert Diggs, J Hunter, Clifford Smith, Cory Woods

Lyric:
Who's the knucklehead wantin' respect?
Wantin' respect, wantin' respect
Never doubt the Life
Who's the knucklehead wantin' respect?

Who's the knucklehead wantin' respect?
Who the fuck are you to criticize me?
Yo, I slap, yo, I slap dick ta ya wifey
Yo, respect, that's my word

Another Wu tradition, Street vision, listen
All my life I've been poverty stricken
Always took what's mines, never was given
A second chance just to rap sheet a bad decision

You can't knock the hustle or the life that I'm livin'
Quick to slip the clip in, blow you out position
Street jurisdiction, nigga, no restriction
Concrete composition for emcee's in submission

Special edition crash, course mission
Push through like the task force to crush all competition
See you from a distance, dry snitchin', whisperin'
To your man posted up like two little bitches

When you get the heart, step live or catch stitches
Or find yourself with Del, sleepin' with the fishes
I got no love for fans that's fake ass niggas
I can't stand the bid when that's all in my business

Wu-Tang Forever and a day, don't get it twisted
I get lifted, I just shoot somethin' from hot biscuit
These street kids, we can't lost, we terrorize you district
Leave no finger prints and no survivin' witness

Nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide
It's them kids from the other side Shaolin Worldwide
Street Life, Homocide, nowhere to run to
Nowhere to hide, boo, we P.L.O.

Fo' sho', if it don't flow, gotta go
Fo' sho', if it don't blow, gotta go
Fo' sho', if it ain't dough, gotta go
Some didn't listen 'til my gun went blow

Yo, thoughts sharper than a Japanese Kitana
Ninja coma, piranhas crack teeth on my armor
Scandalous, I ran contra-bomber, stalker like rebels of Rwanda
Death before dishonor, snake charmer

Persona of one who makes drama
Godfather 4 type saga, tuckin' a revolver in my Parker
Bombin' unprepared for departure, might talk but strike harder
Fear the bow of the silent archer

Sure shotter, I pass the rock to your starter
Poison darter, news photographers document the horror
While I bounce Shaunda with Tiwana and I from blue Honda
Honorable scholar, rockwilder, rip mic's for top dollar

Your highness, the crowd holler
Got your head rock, feel the brain trauma
Crowd sponsor, hotter than Bahama steam saunas
The Rebel of opera, popped off the chocolate and the Gosha
Monster truck crush you impostors

Nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide
It's them kids from the other side Shaolin Worldwide
I.N.S., Homocide, nowhere to run to
Nowhere to hide, boo, we P.L.O.

Fo' sho', if it don't flow, gotta go
Fo' sho', if it don't blow, gotta go
Fo' sho', if it ain't dough, gotta go
Some didn't listen 'til my gun went blow

I'm the four mic emcee with five mic potential
Overlooked 'cuz y'all can't understand what I been through
You ain't got to love me or even pretend to
Actin' like the street, they ain't got no street credentials

Track villains, rats be killin' instrumentals
They catch fillin' and slap a feelin' out ya dental
Underground, sound, for ghetto residentials
Up shit's creek lookin' for some more shit to get into

Got the Clan jewels as I continue
To serve you everythin' on that's on the menu
With Chef John Jacob, remember Sunz Of Man
Told you Wake Up?

My nigga smell the coffee, I'm too hardcore to kill softly
Come to free the mind and get the bullshit up off me
The Jedi, only use The Force if ya force me
Shaolin what? Don't get it fucked up and cross me

Rappers gettin' stuck
For actin' stuck up and flossy
Say it ain't so, bust the calico
Rap from the Island called Stat', here we go

Nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide
It's them kids from the other side Shaolin Worldwide
Method Man, Homocide, nowhere to run to
Nowhere to hide, boo, we P.L.O.

Fo' sho', if it don't flow, gotta go
Fo' sho', if it don't blow, gotta go
Fo' sho', if it ain't dough, gotta go
Some didn't listen 'til my gun went blow

Wantin' respect, wantin' respect
Who's the knucklehead wantin' respect?
Wantin' respect, wantin' respect
Wantin' respect, sharpest niggas in the

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c114b11d5ed83926bf9175a310d69339

Bay Area - Lyrics - Phinally Phamous - Lil Wyte

Title: Bay Area
Album: Phinally Phamous
Artist: Lil Wyte
Composer(s): Paul Beauregard, Jordan Houston, Patrick Dhane Lanshaw

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

Lyric:
Bay area, it is da hood of da brave
Bay area, none of my boys are afraid
Bay area, we got dat work down here
Bay area, we let it go fo da low round here

Bay area, it is da hood of da brave
Bay area, none of my boys are afraid
Bay area, we got dat work down here
Bay area, we let it go fo da low 'round here

Flickin' through da bay bumpin' Marvin gay sunny days
I gots to get payed 20 K, oh and by the way
The bar shifted of me and Fraiser bizzle
That's fo shizzle all da other perpatraders
Better be packin' they pistols, 'cuz I got pencils for pussies
Packin' some big utin'les off the hizzle
I'll put this thrizzle right between both yo wizzle
This is Lil Whizzie, I'm not playin'

I can leave it so greasy bitch ya heard me dirty South represented
To bess believe me like it I got to push it and shove it either way you go
I'm hot as an oven, humpin' and bumpin' and on, on it's the dro
The HCP family gonna represent until I die of daze satisfaction
This happens to be always on my phase Fraiser bou and V my fans
And all my faculty is half of the reason W Y T E
Won't let me rest in peace couldn't of done it wit out Billy
Many aren't wit my ass get yo ass slapped silly
When you fuck up in da bay

Bay area, it is da hood of da brave
Bay area, none of my boys are afraid
Bay area, we got dat work down here
Bay area, we let it go fo da low round here

Bay area, it is da hood of da brave
Bay area, none of my boys are afraid
Bay area, we got dat work down here
Bay area, we let it go fo da low round here

I'm steppin' about the household sit yo ass back runnin' down town
In a black Cadillac, Jack are still smokin', gimme some
Bro even though you broke I'm go take yo weed
And yo crack jack this is the conversation 'bout life
In da needy nation really I don't give a fuck about shit
If it ain't payuh chasin', I'm about my and that's why

Prize is about take this sober good thing
This doser came from Cordova 'cuz I can't be sober
Don't really stop da hood it what I have become to be but later on
I be damned if I don't put this on G O B I ride deez streets

I smoke this weed and one day I'ma stop and see
That this is the life I always wanted da man
To let come out of me da B A Y my stopin' ground
And round here we got dro by pound but half of deez
Motha fuckers round here broka than homie the clown
Witch means you have to take yo klan to another location

Bring some out of towners to catch yo slack
So if you ain't made it I tell you dis will get crazy
Rest the day, go by so watch it the bay O 5 round here
And they ain't ya do to stop it

Bay area, it is da hood of da brave
Bay area, none of my boys are afraid
Bay area, we got dat work down here
Bay area, we let it go fo da low round here

Bay area, it is da hood of da brave
Bay area, none of my boys are afraid
Bay area, we got dat work down here
Bay area, we let it go fo da low round here

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