Salute Da Gods!! - Lyrics - Total Devestation: The Best Of Busta Rhymes - Busta Rhymes

Title: Salute Da Gods!!
Album: Total Devestation: The Best Of Busta Rhymes
Artist: Busta Rhymes
Composer(s): Linda Creed, George Spivey, Trevor Smith, Thom Bell

Lyric:
Yeah yeah yeah
The anarchy, Busta Rhymes shit c'mon

Ready for Busta Rhymes
(Ha ha ha ha hoh)
He's the one we've all been waiting for forever
(I feel so fuckin good, my people)
Ready for Flipmode Squad
(So powerful, so good today)
They're the ones we've all been waiting for forever
(Yeah yeah, new rulership)
Ready for Busta Rhymes
(It feels so fuckin' good in my soul, come on)
He's the one we've all, been waiting for forever
(Yeah)
(I wanna see y'all all my people if you feel good)
Ready for flipmode squad
(Just talk to me, c'mon, c'mon)
They're the ones we've all, been waiting for, forever
(Now now, let me see y'all, so powerful)
Ready

All praise due we comin' through real hard
Niggaz raisin' they right hand salutin' da God
Yo like a burnin' sensation of Henny on the first sip
Hot shit my nigga let me spit a verse quick
Work shit inward until my niggaz hurt shit
And plot elaborate schemes for monies niggaz worship
Beautiful like the pleasure of when I burst my first clip
At a nigga who sold me a brick that wasn't worth shit
Yo we bomb shit fire alarm shit
With my bitches who take packages under they armpit
Now we remain the imperial live niggaz
Who consistantly blackout and rep for them wild niggaz
Yo you incompatible snatch yo' collateral
Gun blunt you and rep for every thug capital
Diagonal vision niggaz seein shit on slant
Plant beatings on niggaz and celebrate a war chant
Diabolic how we manifest raw logic
Chronological time we bring niggaz the raw project
Hold fort and represent as the grand wizard
Street chronicle illustrate the bakin' of a bad blizzard
I got a spot for ya
With live niggaz who murder sloppier
Than all of the trenchcoat mafia yo
'Cause when you hear the sweet music playin'
It's like theme music for murder scenes
Like the Colorado slayin 'cause I don't give a fuck
Speedin like we racin' on the aqueduct
Black tinted out government truck
Curbside on niggaz leanin' just a little bit
Trunk trapp'd with smoke my bitch'll take a little hit
Fake niggaz could be the best actors
My bullets whiz so fast you feel the windshield factors
In the wrong place you get your wig peeled backwards
Get an ounce of the 'dro and steam a pack of Blackwoods

Ready for Busta Rhymes
He's the one we've all been waiting for forever
(Yeah, yeah, just feel what I feel niggaz)
Ready for Flipmode Squad
(Yeah, just reach up and just touch the sky niggaz)
They're the ones we've all, been waiting for, forever
(Now, hah, yeah, I try so hard)
(To just share that shit that I'm feelin')
Ready for Busta Rhymes
(All my niggaz just talk to me)
He's the one we've all, been waiting for, forever
(So powerful flipmode squad now)
Ready for Flipmode squad
(Yeah, new rulership)
All my niggaz just walk in line)
They're the ones we've all, been waiting for, forever
(Walk in line with me, talk to me now)

Welcome
We are now in the current state of the anarchy
We fight to survive niggaz
We fight to rule our own government
We livin' in a current state of no fuckin' government
Niggaz don't even know how to follow they own spirit
Lost niggaz
Unsure niggaz, insecure niggaz
Fuck that
Salute all our motherfuckers
All my niggaz ready to hold it down on the front line
We survived it niggaz, 2000
Time for the new bloodline to run shit

Enjoy the album

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e84ad0065206fa2841e3ed4c8a3f7b9b

The Triboro - Lyrics - Big L

Title: The Triboro
Artist: Big L
Composer(s): Lamont Coleman, Rodney Showbiz Lemay, Omar Credle, Joseph Cartagena, Remy Martin

Lyric:
Phenomenon O.C.
Big L, one-three-nine, baby
Diggin' In The Crates
Yeah yeah, this is Joe the God, Terror Squad reppin

Yo, yo, yo
I'm from a place where them niggaz don't, talk no shit
Where them wigs get split, where the guns forever click
Where the track stars come to warm up for a race
Blue and whites ride by and niggaz yell, "Fuck them Jakes"
So much respect, I can lay dough on the floor
Walk away and come back without cats runnin' off
I'm a model hoe's wet dream, in her sleep
Performin' X-rated fuck scenes, me goin' deep
O.C. the Starchild, let your cameras record

I'm like a man bein' honored at the Grammy awards
I pitch lines like fastballs
Mush-out, rap my ass off
Knuckle gaze crumblin' your glass jaw
Supreme figure, drink liquor, what team thicker?
"The Big Picture" be the motherfuckin' theme nigga
Flamboyant forever, this is how it goes
Pray we don't clap your way when the gats explode

Where Brooklyn at?
Yo, B-K don't play
Harlem World
Where niggaz get the money all day
Boogie down Bronx, specialize in gunplay
Triboro, so thorough, always

Where Brooklyn at?
Yo, B-K don't play
Harlem World
Where niggaz get the money all day
Boogie down Bronx, specialize in gunplay
Triboro, so thorough, always

Where I'm from, dudes get sliced, 'cuz crews is trife
And you might lose your life for your jewels and ice
I'ma slide to the telly and abuse your wife
If I got one rubber, I'ma use it twice
I give young fools advice about the rules of heist
When I rock 'gators, hoes be like, "Them shoes is nice"
Dimes I'm willin' to hit, I stay drillin' a chick
They all know I ain't shit, but they still on my dick

And I never walk the streets without the vest and the chrome
'Cuz all my jewels be Rocky like Sylvester Stallone
I blast the tech at your dome to leave you restin' alone
Go home and puff a fat bag of sess 'til I'm gone
You got this nigga frontin' like he the main event
When his album ain't even last long, it came and went
I'm like Gotti to him, I throw the shotty to him
Niggaz don't want it with L, they like, "Anybody but him"

Where Brooklyn at?
Yo, B-K don't play
Harlem World
Where niggaz get the money all day
Boogie down Bronx, specialize in gunplay
Triboro, so thorough, always

Where Brooklyn at?
Yo, B-K don't play
Harlem World
Where niggaz get the money all day
Boogie down Bronx, specialize in gunplay
Triboro, so thorough, always

Hoodied down with the mac, Boogie down where it's at
Fuck around, hear the sound of the gats
Wanna clown we react, fuck that
Do you know what you do when you fool with Joey Crack?
I'm coke on the streets, I'm open for beef
I'm hopin' you reach so we can go with the heat
I'm like a nigga that you just can't kill
Niggaz spittin' that hot shit, but just ain't real
It's like you muh'fuckers frontin' for me

Nuttin' to see, when I'm the one you wantin' to be
Lovin' the stee', come through plush in the V
Got niggaz mad 'cuz they pain while we fuckin' for free
Make Trizz a household, live what I told
I only speak that true shit that I know
Besides y'all don't want it with us
A hundred or plus, killers that be livin' to bust
What the fuck?

Where Brooklyn at?
Yo, B-K don't play
Harlem World
Where niggaz get the money all day
Boogie down Bronx, specialize in gunplay
Triboro, so thorough, always

Where Brooklyn at?
Yo, B-K don't play
Harlem World
Where niggaz get the money all day
Boogie down Bronx, specialize in gunplay
Triboro, so thorough, always

Yo, Remi so crazy, rhymes be blazin'
Styles just switch like hips on gay men
Trips to the Cayman, rich and famous
Rhymes so hot my spit be flamin'
Benz be rimmed up, doo be pinned up
Bitch talk slick whole crew get hemmed up
My shit drastic, all type of tactics
Rip shit flip shit spit shit backwards

Screw you, don't let the pretty face fool you
I kick shit like kung-fu and I, jam like guns do
You got one, I want two like water, I run through
Pyscho, make you wanna change your whole mic flow
Floss it, givin' bitches lyrical abortions
Stay cautioned, my first shit was just a lil' portion
I come back with more shit, playback some raw shit
You can't rock, so I'ma take your spot make you forfeit

Where Brooklyn at?
Yo, B-K don't play
Harlem World
Where niggaz get the money all day
Boogie down Bronx, specialize in gunplay
Triboro, so thorough, always

Where Brooklyn at?
Yo, B-K don't play
Harlem World
Where niggaz get the money all day
Boogie down Bronx, specialize in gunplay
Triboro, so thorough, always

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843e54f1c9aeb41f34d62f82364bcce5

Thief'S Theme - Lyrics - Street's Disciple - Nas

Title: Thief'S Theme
Album: Street's Disciple
Artist: Nas
Composer(s): Salaam Remi, Douglas Ingle, Nasir Jones, Salaam Gibbs

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

Lyric:
One, two
Check, one, two
One, two, who got more style, the son do
Check, one, two

Yo, I'm hot like 95 Fahrenheit
On a summer night, tight spot where bodies rot
Rats drink from water drops in the streets niggaz
Little kids scared cops wit red dots
Philosophical gangsta where violent priors
Goin' back like black and white TV's wit pliers
Leanin' on broke down cars, wit flat tires
Flash iron or anybody tryin' on the blocks I'm supplyin' on
Mighty call, my peeps tie balloons up
And swallow 'em and the penal got goons, lots of 'em

Cops see them and run, don't want no drama
Certain parts of the streets, the beast don't wanna part of
Mortar, hood haunted like the Dakota
Where John Lennon was shot up, but he sang for peace
He begged for freedom, hanged wit wild Jamaicans
From Kingston who drink Irish moss
Listenin' to Peter Winston, Machintosh
Lightning hits the top of the Church steeple
When I'm writin, semi-automatic, no hyphen
It's frightening

The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right
Understandable smooth shit that murderers move wit
The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right
Understandable smooth shit that murderers move wit
The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right
Understandable smooth shit that murderers move wit
The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right
Understandable smooth shit that murderers move wit

I take summers off, 'cause I love winter beef
Started '87, wit the shotty in the sheet
Three-quarter length beige, dressed to kill
Bust a shell at the ground, pellets hit the crowd
Nobody like a snitch, everybody shut they mouth
Rule which car heart, gun powder stains
Smellin' like trees, set some mill on the brain
Skeemin' on ya girls, bamboozled on ya chain
Got ill upon a train, twistin' off a cap
Of a English in my vain, might of pushed you on the tracks

Deaf crack fiends, who can't speak, scream noises
'Cause you bought a drummer soap, from one of my boys, it's
Just another day in the hood
And I'm wit some wild brothers, up to no good
We saw the movies, like Tony Montana, and 'em
But our style was let them piled in, we robbin' 'em
Money dudes, make 'em come up out they shoes
Run they jewels, word is bond, where my man Nino goin'
And I had to make a song speakin' on my old life
For the thief's who come out at night

The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right
Understandable smooth shit that murderers move wit
The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right
Understandable smooth shit that murderers move wit
The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right
Understandable smooth shit that murderers move wit
The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right
Understandable smooth shit that murderers move wit

One, two
Check, one, two
One, two
Check, one, two
One, two, who got more style, the son do

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da143f99cecb59f7caa00ba216a8755a

Squalie - Lyrics - From Me to U - Juelz Santana

Title: Squalie
Album: From Me to U
Artist: Juelz Santana
Composer(s): R Brito, Gregory Omar Green, Seon Thomas, Barry White, Laron James

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

Lyric:
Yeah, uh ohh, c'mon, c'mon
Roll wit me, it's Santana
I'd like to welcome y'all to the great
Fuck wit ya boy, once again, Zeke

Now I got more than my swagger back
Listen here homie, Mr. Mick Jagger's back
Uh oh, young Zab of rap, only difference is
This Judah will shoot ya, then get back to rappin'

Traffin' crack threw half an' Hampton
Make stacks an' stacks an' that's a fact, man
Y'all can't fuck wit me
Baby girl, I drag my nuts for free comfortably

An' ya know I got my pimpin' together
Got my game, got my cain, got my limpin' together
Shit, bitch, you better get your switchin' together
'Cuz this back hand will get you together, hope you know that

An' sometime I can't believe my niggaz
Still in all, I'll give it all just to feed my niggaz
Eat, don't stop homie, breathe my niggaz
I need y'all more than y'all ever need me, my niggaz

This is for all my niggaz on the block that's pumpin'
I think the cops is comin', Squalie
All my homies on the block with somethin'
Hold it down, I think the cops is comin', Squalie

For all my chicks on the strip that switch
Be easy, I think the cops is comin', Squalie
All my ladies who boost for higher
Prada, Gucci attire, watch who's behind ya, Squalie

Yo, we livin' the life of loca vida, coke an' cheever
Driveby, blow smoke on the policia
Like fuck 'em, I got no love for Squalie
But I'm tired of runnin' from Squalie

Duckin' from Squalie, shit
An' we ain't do nothin' to Squalie
It's payback, we buckin' at Squalie
No more gettin' searched, frisked for nothin' by Squalie

Hey, so sell ya pack, sell ya cracks like when Dickens was near
Juelz Santana Dickens is here, yea
Yea, so Zeke is ya rollin' with me?
This the theme song, homie, fuck the police

We back at it, our crack habit is that drastic
Measures, we taken em', make 'em, we'll clap at ya
Peel off on dirt bikes an' raptors
Squirt pipes at bastards, y'all can't fuck wit me

This is for all my niggaz on the block that's pumpin'
I think the cops is comin', Squalie
All my homies on the block with somethin'
Hold it down, I think the cops is comin', Squalie

For all my chicks on the strip that switch
Be easy, I think the cops is comin', Squalie
All my ladies who boost for higher
Prada, Gucci attire, watch who's behind ya, Squalie

Hey ma, it's J.R. an' L's, it ain't hard to tell
We da niggaz in Maury an' Karl Lagerfeld
Wit that hard to sell that ain't hard to sell
An' a gun that'll hit you from far as Hell

You quick to flash, we'll whip yo' ass
Couple shots hit your glass, dip shit, ya whip will crash
I got the sickest past, stay skippin' class, pitchin' hash
All day, stood there flippin' halves

When I heard, "Squalie", I dished an' dashed
Ditched the hash, park, neutral, first gear, hit the gas
Now we rich with cash an' when I hear, "Squalie"
I sit an' laugh, dawg, you kiss his ass

Cooked more caine, push off dames
While you dumb niggaz stand there an' look all lame
I done popped an' took off chains
Now Ivory dump ice on me like my team won a football game

This is for all my niggaz on the block that's pumpin'
I think the cops is comin', Squalie
All my homies on the block with somethin'
Hold it down, I think the cops is comin', Squalie

For all my chicks on the strip that switch
Be easy, I think the cops is comin', Squalie
All my ladies who boost for higher
Prada, Gucci attire, watch who's behind ya, Squalie

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3cab78641b5f08a923da8f07b2593ab0

Z - Intro - Lyrics - The Black Album - Jay

Title: Z - Intro
Album: The Black Album
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Justin Gregory Smith, Shawn Carter, Woody Cunningham

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

Lyric:
It's the Dynasty niggaz as promised
The world's most infamous Roc-A-Fella Records
This is Roc La Familia
It's Young Hova, Beanie Sigel, Memphis Bleek, Amil-lion
It's the Dynasty niggaz, 2000 to infinity
This is ghetto to ghetto, gutter to gutter
Street corner to street corner, project to project
Worldwide, walk with us niggaz
Hoffa, Dash, it's the Dynasty niggaz
Check it out
Uhh, walk with me, talk to me, yo

The theme song to the Sopranos
Plays in the key of life on my mental piano
Got a strange way of seein' life like
I'm Stevie Wonder with, beads under the doo-rag
Intuition is there even when my vision's impaired, yeah
Knowin' I can go, just switchin' a spare
On the highway of life, nigga, it's sharp in my sight
Oh, keen senses ever since I was a teen on the benches

Everytime somebody like Enus was mentioned
I would turn green, me, bein' in the trenches
Him, livin' adventureous, not worryin' about expenditures
I'm bravin' temperatures below zero, no hero
No father figure, you gotta pardon a nigga
But I'm starvin' my niggaz, and the weight loss in my figure
Is startin' to darken my heart, 'bout to get to my liver
Watch it my niggaz, I'm tryin' to be calm but I'm gon' get richer
Through any means, with that thing that Malcolm palmed in the picture

Never read the Qu'ran or Islamic scriptures
Only psalms I read was on the arms of my niggaz
Tattooed so I carry on like I'm non-religious
Clap whoever stand between Shawn and figures
Niggaz, say it's the dawn but I'm superstitious
Shit is as dark as it's been, nothin' is goin' as you predicted
I move with biscuits, stop the harder niggaz, actin' too suspicious
This is food for thought, you do the dishes

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2636adf12d6bb7aadcdf0f100e07fdb4

Z - Intro (American Gangster) - Lyrics - Jay

Title: Z - Intro (American Gangster)
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Justin Gregory Smith, Shawn Carter, Woody Cunningham

Lyric:
It's the Dynasty niggaz as promised
The world's most infamous Roc-A-Fella Records
This is Roc La Familia
It's Young Hova, Beanie Sigel, Memphis Bleek, Amil-lion
It's the Dynasty niggaz, 2000 to infinity
This is ghetto to ghetto, gutter to gutter
Street corner to street corner, project to project
Worldwide, walk with us niggaz
Hoffa, Dash, it's the Dynasty niggaz
Check it out
Uhh, walk with me, talk to me, yo

The theme song to the Sopranos
Plays in the key of life on my mental piano
Got a strange way of seein' life like
I'm Stevie Wonder with, beads under the doo-rag
Intuition is there even when my vision's impaired, yeah
Knowin' I can go, just switchin' a spare
On the highway of life, nigga, it's sharp in my sight
Oh, keen senses ever since I was a teen on the benches

Everytime somebody like Enus was mentioned
I would turn green, me, bein' in the trenches
Him, livin' adventureous, not worryin' about expenditures
I'm bravin' temperatures below zero, no hero
No father figure, you gotta pardon a nigga
But I'm starvin' my niggaz, and the weight loss in my figure
Is startin' to darken my heart, 'bout to get to my liver
Watch it my niggaz, I'm tryin' to be calm but I'm gon' get richer
Through any means, with that thing that Malcolm palmed in the picture

Never read the Qu'ran or Islamic scriptures
Only psalms I read was on the arms of my niggaz
Tattooed so I carry on like I'm non-religious
Clap whoever stand between Shawn and figures
Niggaz, say it's the dawn but I'm superstitious
Shit is as dark as it's been, nothin' is goin' as you predicted
I move with biscuits, stop the harder niggaz, actin' too suspicious
This is food for thought, you do the dishes

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2b5841c214098a2b9a16e368409dcf02

Strugglin' - Lyrics - Strictly For My N.I.G.G.A.Z. - 2pac

Title: Strugglin'
Album: Strictly For My N.I.G.G.A.Z.
Artist: 2pac
Composer(s): Stretch Tupac Shakur, Majest

Lyric:
Eat a dick up

Stick up, stick up, stick up kids
Still don't nothin' move but the money
Stick up, stick up, stick up kids
Still don't nothin' move but the money

Strugglin', jugglin', got it to the black man
Eatin' the scams like I was motherfuckin' Pac Man
Cops step off, you know the flavor
They fear the ruffneck niggaz with the lunatic behavior

And now we gotta eat, gotta make ends meet
Stabbin' for a fee, it gets hard on the fuckin' streets
It's like a madness, fuck making gravy
I rhyme and do crimes, 'cuz either way pays me

A little rough with a hardcore, theme
Couldn't rough something rougher in your, dreams
Mad rugged so you know we're gonna, rip
With that roughneck nigga named 2Pacalypse

Representing YG'z yo
Flip Stretch Homicide and my nigga Gambino
Seek and Po can't forget Money Bags
Stickin' up spots and jumpin' in Jags

Gotta get ahead and always stay bumblin'
And always keep a hand on the gat
'Cuz a niggaz straight strugglin'

Stick up, stick up, stick up kids
Still don't nothin' move but the money
Stick up, stick up, stick up kids
Still don't nothin' move but the money

I used to be on tour, but now I'm sick of strugglin'
I thought about bumpin', but mother-fuck jugglin'
I know it lasts longer, gets my pockets thicker
But I'd rather use my gun 'cuz I get the money quicker, so bust it

Look as I cut the records hard to eject
A quick clip threw my body down uhh, it's another hit
I got energy to blast now you want the task here
'Cuz of the light a motherfucker shot that ass up

But rugged and rough is how I'm steppin'
Mac is the weapon, and it's always kept in
Eye on the Mac 'cuz the dogg got it goin' on
If you come up steppin' you'll be lit like a hick

So you better chill, 'cuz I got too much money to get
A street thug in the motherfuckin' house, I'm strugglin'
Get drunk but I don't think
I'm just in it for the money, don't be a punk snitch

When I yank up my gun, don't run don't bitch
'Cuz ya know if you do, you'll be layin' in a ditch
You'll get your stupid ass blown out the frame
'Cuz I'm playing to win, and survive in the game, I'm strugglin'

Stick up, stick up, stick up kids
Still don't nothin' move but the money
Stick up, stick up, stick up kids
Still don't nothin' move but the money

Big up, big up, got him in the frame, bang
Ain't nothin' changed set it off I let the brains hang
Guess who's back, to put niggaz on they back
Till I call back, niggaz runnin' free better fall back

I'm fifty niggaz deep beat sleep
With a Mossberg wrapped in my seats
Three deep in my Jeep chief run with the Young Gunz
Strugglin' and strivin', that's how the dough come

Now get gunned by the one with the gun for the low goal
Throw a bolo so low when I flow yo
Much too high to read the signs, I'm blind
Clickin' on the nine, out to get mine

I go big up, big up, gotta make the room, boom
Blowin' motherfuckers to the moon
Niggaz need to feel me a real G, home from the bumblin'
See me on the block, strugglin'

And rollin' with the roughnecks nuff checks cashed
I get in niggaz ass, blast
Straight strugglin'

Stick up, stick up, stick up kids
Still don't nothin' move but the money
Stick up, stick up, stick up kids
Still don't nothin' move but the money

Stick up, stick up, stick up kids
Still don't nothin' move but the money
Stick up, stick up, stick up kids
Still don't nothin' move but the money

Stick up, stick up, stick up kids
Still don't nothin' move but the money
Stick up, stick up, stick up kids
Still don't nothin' move but the money
...

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c6cd393a66fb664721aff232fdf5c242

My Writes - Lyrics - De La Soul

Title: My Writes
Artist: De La Soul
Composer(s): David Jolicouer, Kelvin Mercer, James Robinson, David Jolicoeur, Vincent Mason, M Mcbride, Alvin Joiner, James Anthony Robinson, M. Mcbride, Rico Smith

Lyric:
Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life
Got bitches throwin' they drawers on stage, that ain't me
I raise kids, push whips, piss an MC
Love money like I love my moms

Love my nigga Com Sense
When he bang dents all up in they wallets
Wall to wall bullshit, I got hardwood floors
Set sail for tour ever since eighty-nine
So y'all are fuckin' the same hoes who used to be mine

And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people
Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal
Dose of hop hippin' if you thought CaTash was slippin'
Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'
CaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize
Fuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized

Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this
Hand over fist, how can a man act like a bitch?
Change and switch, snitch on his crew
Yo, get rid of the niggaz before the same thing happen to you

And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue
Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out
Motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out
Got you on your knees like a freak

Jugglin' deez nuts smugglin' these cuts from S.C.
You best believe there's no web or weave a net
We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat

Yo, what you know about my writes?
What you know about what's weak, what's tight?
And what you know about an off night?
What you know about niggaz frontin' for the light?

And what you know about them gun fights?
Got a nigga duckin' while them girls show fright
And what you know about my writes?
Ah, what you know about my writes?

Yeah, yeah, look, I'm Samson without Delilah, the soul survivor
The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake
Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol
My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin' shots I call

My niggaz gotta ball, never settle for less
Heavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts
Step into my office 'cause it's time for you to roll somethin'
One false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'

Yo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps
Drawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, 'cause I won it
They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet
They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet

The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain
But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name
So pass the mic so I can put in my share
I rip it from home to L.A. with connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere

Drinkin' up Black and Tan in the back of a van
I learned as a young man, long trip, piss in a can
Gettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land
Let your mind expand, everyday have a plan

Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan
You got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand
Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand
And go, 'Uptown Saturday Night' like Geechie Dan

I keep it dirty like under the bed
Dirty like Uncle Red, aiyyo, well hella poo-poo
Dirty brown Liquid flow thicker than the Yoo-hoo
Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin' it all

Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work
Expert, tryin' to regulate my network
Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it
If they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it

Yo, what you know about my writes?
What you know about what's weak, what's tight?
And what you know about an off night?
What you know about niggaz frontin' for the light?

And what you know about them gun fights?
Got a nigga duckin' while them girls show fright
And what you know about my writes?
Ah, what you know about my writes?

And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn
Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave 'Potholes in Yo' Lawn'
You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way
I can shut y'all niggaz down like the Y-2-K

I did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe
We on the same vibe, 'cause real niggaz coincide
The situation is drastic
But see songs like these is why this album goin' classic

This is for the DJ, bring it back one time
I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme
I'm old school like my dad is
So add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?

Aiyyo, we theme park status, upstage these niggaz like Gladys
Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire
Blamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes
In this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms

Yeah, we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic
And I ain't gotta say no names
Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame
Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame

Brand name fresh out the box type hustle
Manpower success is mind over muscle
Grind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss
I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss

Nailed to the cross it's time to return
My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn
Hollywood burn, burn to the ground
Trick-ass niggaz is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down

Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back
De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that
And what you know about us droppin' ya
And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?

And what you know about my writes?
What you know about what's weak, what's tight?
And what you know about an off night?
What you know about niggaz frontin' for the light?

And what you know about them gun fights?
Got a nigga duckin' while them girls show fright
And what you know about my writes?
Ah, what you know about my writes?
Ah, what you know about my writes?
Ah, what you know about my writes?

You got the right to shut the fuck up

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1f1b2235fee02c9630366b37404c76b2

Smoke Some Weed - Lyrics - Laugh Now, Cry Later - Ice Cube

Title: Smoke Some Weed
Album: Laugh Now, Cry Later
Artist: Ice Cube
Composer(s): Stephen William Anderson, O'Shea Jackson

Lyric:
(Smoke some weed)
Ice Cube, motherfucker
West coast, motherfucker
(Smoke some weed)

George Bush, George Clinton, Bill Clinton
Chris Farley, Chris Rock, Bob Marley
Rick James knew how to throw a party
(Smoke some weed)

Snoop Dogg, all the way to Cheech and Chong
Cypress Hill, Robert Downey hit the bong
Ricky Williams, fuck how Miami feelin'
(Smoke some weed)

This is West coast, nigga thinkin'
California quicksand got a nigga sinkin'
I can give a fuck what you niggaz drinkin'
(Smoke some weed)

This is West coast, nigga thinkin'
California quicksand got a nigga sinkin'
I can give a fuck what you bitches drinkin'
(Smoke some weed)

If you a baller, nigga, I'm a Hall of Famer
Lion tamer, with two [Incomprehensible] flamers
Understand, that yo' life's in danger
Didn't your momma tell you not to talk to strangers?
(Smoke some weed)

Lil' nigga, I'm the Hillside Strangler
Have a banger, callin' for the Lone Ranger
Most rappers, they wanna fuck sangers
I'm a nigga, that wanna bone [Incomprehensible]
(Smoke some weed)

G4, pull it up out the hanger
A lil' somethin' to fuel you niggaz anger
The swine, I'm your face re arranger
In a mansion, 'cause Jesus born in a manger
(Smoke some weed)

Motherfucker, belong on Jerry Spranger
I'm a gangsta, up in your CD changer
I'll gank ya for twenty bucks, then I'll thank ya
Police, still get the middle fanger
(Smoke some weed)

This is West coast, nigga thinkin'
California quicksand got a nigga sinkin'
I can give a fuck what you niggaz drinkin'
(Smoke some weed)

This is West coast, nigga thinkin'
California quicksand got a nigga sinkin'
I can give a fuck what you bitches drinkin'
(Smoke some weed)

Lil' niggaz, don't try this at home
Momma in the bathroom, leave her ass alone
'Cause she probably takin' chronic, straight to the dome
Go play, you lil' fucker, stop bein' grown
(Smoke some weed)

Dave Chappelle, fifty million and a throne
With a big Zulu bitch, nigga gettin' blown
Watch your tone, if you wear coppertone
'Go Back To Africa', used to be a theme song
(Smoke some weed)

I'm in the zone, do anybody got a zone?
I ain't your poppa, but Daddy is a Rolling Stone
Youse a clone, who don't know the shit you on
Unless it's on a motherfuckin' ring tone
(Smoke some weed)

I'm in a throne with two bottles of Patron
You need a loan to fuck with the Family Stone
Nigga, go on, tell 'em Ice Cube is home
Gorilla niggaz, here come King Kong
(Smoke some weed)

This is West coast, nigga thinkin'
California quicksand got a nigga sinkin'
I can give a fuck what you niggaz drinkin'
(Smoke some weed)

This is West coast, nigga thinkin'
California quicksand got a nigga sinkin'
I can give a fuck what you bitches drinkin'
(Smoke some weed)

Ice Cube, motherfucker
West coast, motherfucker
(Smoke some weed)

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adac271eabaa588e6808d4f38fde516e

Niggaz Theme - Lyrics - Venni Vetti Vecci - Ja Rule

Title: Niggaz Theme
Album: Venni Vetti Vecci
Artist: Ja Rule
Composer(s): Robert Mays, Jeffrey Atkins, Irv Gotti

Lyric:
You doin' their work for them
You know why, do you know why?
'Cause your happy just to be a mother fuckin' nigga

It's plain to see, you can't change me
'Cause I'm a be a nigga for life
It's plain to see, you can't change me
'Cause I'm a be a nigga for life

For life we gonna be niggas
Fuck the world, it's yours my niggas
Load the nine and blaze my niggas
Yeah, 'cause I'm a nigga for life

Who's that chipped out, twenty one year old, hot commodity
Comin' out of a bum deal lottery, with a flow like sodomy
Put it on your bitch ass quite properly
I suggest you keep all eyes on me
And don't sleep as it is I'm highly critique
Pussy, money, murder it's part of my mystique
You feelin' me this here is one of queens elite
Predecessor of the street, while you munch I eat

JA's here, the nigga you love but still fear
I done been there done that, now nigga, it's my year
I can leave you on the clear view if you ain't yet clear
Matter of fact if you breathin' be glad you got air
Shut the fuck up when grown folks are talkin' you hear
Or get your shit blown baby from mouth to ear
Don't fear when you smoke weed and fuckin' your wife
Why? 'Cause I'm a nigga for life

For life we gonna be niggas
Fuck the world, it's yours my niggas
Load the nine and blaze my niggas
Yeah, 'cause I'm a nigga for life

For life we gonna be niggas
Fuck the world, it's yours my niggas
Load the nine and blaze my niggas
'Cause I'm a nigga for life

Spare yourself the reality of an ass whippin'
That I'm givin' when I be gettin' tight and start flippin'
On your bitch ass niggas that like formin' a cipher
It gets me hyper, want the real I'm a slice ya, light ya
Ass up with sixteen or more slugs
Comin' from my snub nose bull dog
Raw, to the core lets lay down some laws
This is JA's house bow down or bring the war, mother fuckers

Ya'll don't want to touch what's hot
Whatever it be the mic, the glock, drug spot
Like a bitch you scared of life and takin' chances
And right now you showin' more ass then an exotic dancer
The answer is this, niggas don't wanna touch
JA life's stronger then a fucking coke rush
See on the streets we be killin' niggas like cash
And you heard I.N.C. nigga it's murda

It's plain to see, you can't change me
'Cause I'm a be a nigga for life
It's plain to see, you can't change me
'Cause I'm a be a nigga for life

For life we gonna be niggas
Fuck the world, it's yours my niggas
Load the nine and blaze my niggas
Yeah, 'cause I'm a nigga for life

Nigga, I live amongst thorough breads who's raised to blaze lead
If you get shot play dead and put two in his head
I'm known to pasteurize and criticize a nigga size
Look him right in the eyes and leave him dead where he lies
We come through mobbin' like Crips from Compton
We're all in burners and all sippin' on gin
Fuck Flossin', nigga I'm tossin' iron
And if you ain't buyin' then you're dyin' from denyin', I'm so inspirin'

To the youth, see I'm settin' it strait
Lettin' them know never to step on nothin' less then an eighth
And the longer it takes, some body is gonna die for it
The streets is watchin', Jigga warned you don't ignore it
It's only niggas holdin', go JAP and blow yen
With the six double strait out of the pin
Brandishin' the steal for the ice
Holdin' my dick, talkin' shit, shootin' dice, a nigga for life

So whatcha sayin' is, what the fuck is a nigga?
Rob a bitch, slap a bitch all that shit

For life we gonna be niggas
Fuck the world, it's yours my niggas
Load the nine and blaze my niggas
Yeah, 'cause I'm a nigga for life

For life we gonna be niggas
Fuck the world, it's yours my niggas
Load the nine and blaze my niggas
Yeah, 'cause I'm a nigga for life

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ad1f58640a3f26154b3503eada4c7f12

Eye For An Eye - Lyrics - Mobb Deep

Title: Eye For An Eye
Artist: Mobb Deep
Composer(s): Albert J Johnson, Nasir Jones, Kejuan Waliek Muchita, Corey Woods

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Lyric:
As time goes by, an eye for an eye
We in this together son your beef is mine
So long as the sun shines to light up the sky
We in this together son your beef is mines

As time goes by, an eye for an eye
We in this together son your beef is mine
So long as the sun shines to light up the sky
We in this together, son your beef is mine

Let me start from the beginning, at the top of the list
Know what I mean, have a situation like this
Another war story from a thirsty young hustler, won't trust ya
I'd rather bust ya, and leave your corpse for the cops to discover

While I be dippin' in the range rover
All jeweled like Liberace
You watch me while Jakes tryin' to knock me and lock me
But I'll be on the low sippin' Asti Spumante

Niggaz try to creep on the side of my jeep
Stuck the heat through the window rocked their ass to sleep
Over a 3-pack, it was a small thing really, yeah
But keep lettin' them small things slide and be a failure

If I'm out of town one of my crew'll take care of ya
The world is ours and your team's inferior
You wanna bust caps I get, all up in your area
Kidnap your children make the situation scarier

Life is a gamble, we scramble for money
I might crack a smile but ain't a damn thing funny
I'm caught up in the dirt where your hands get muddy
Plus the outcome turns out to be lovely

Got G's in my pocket hit off my main squeeze
Push back, the sunroof, let the cold air breeze
Through the butter soft leather upholestry
But mostly, keep the gat closely, 'cause niggaz wanna toast me

Yo I gotta get mines, no matter what the con-sequences
Count up my blessings, add up my weapons
Cock back the gat and let my nine serve purpose
Sling do my thing organize fiend servants

Tryin' to make a mil is stress you know the deal
So we sling drills get your cap peeled, 'cause everything is real
'Cause I wanna chill, laid up in a jacuzzi
Sippin' bubbly, with my fingers on the uzi

Try to infiltrate my fort get caught
Dead up in new york, my brain is packed with criminal thoughts
Get your life lost never found again my friend
Mission completed, watch you drop in less than ten

On my road to the riches, hittin' snitches off with mad stitches
Your last restin' place'll be a ditch kid
No one can stop me try your style's sloppy

You want to be me, you're just an imitation copy
My theme is all about making the green
Livin' up in luxury, pushin' phat whips and livin' comfortably

As time goes by, an eye for an eye
We in this together son your beef is mine
So long as the sun shines to light up the sky
We in this together son your beef is mine

As time goes by, an eye for an eye
We in this together son your beef is mine
So long as the sun shines to light up the sky
We in this together son your beef is mine

A drug dealer's dream
Stash cream keys on a triple beam
Five hundred SL green, ninety-five nickle gleam
Condominium, thug dressed like a gentleman

Tailor made ostrich, chanel for my women friend
Murderin', numbers on your head while I'm burglarin'
Shank is servin' 'em, whassup to all my niggaz swervin'
New York metropolis, the bridge brings apocalypse

Shoot at the clouds feels like, the holy beast is watchin' us
Mad man my sanity is goin' like an hourglass
Gun inside my bad hand I sliced tryin' to bag grams
I got hoes that used to milk you

Niggaz who could've killed you
Is down with my ill crew of psychoes
Nas Escobar movin' on your weak production
Pumpin' corruption in the third world we just bustin'

Hold up and analyze the wildcats slang cracks
They swing an axe, the new routines, be my eyes black's
Playin' corners glancin' all up in your cornea
Corner ya, seen cats snatch monies up on ya

But late night, candlelight fiend with a crack pipe
It's only right, feelin' higher than an airplane right
Word yo, I want to get this money then blow
Take my time, blast a nine, if you front you go

Sip beers, the German ones, hand my guns to sons
Shaolin, and Queensbridge we robbin' niggaz for fun
But still, write my will out to my seeds then build
Mahalia sing a tale but the real we still kill

As time goes by, an eye for an eye
We in this together son your beef is mine
So long as the sun shines to light up the sky
We in this together son your beef is mine

As time goes by, an eye for an eye
We in this together son your beef is mine
So long as the sun shines to light up the sky
We in this together son your beef is mine

Uh, lay back, word up, just bless 'em with the bulletproof
Mobb Deep, Nas, Chef creation
For your nation, yeah

Play the MP3 online for free!

08c369c2f124c58d2699bf2a3b03005f

Eye For An Eye (Your Beef Is Mines) - Lyrics - The Infamous - Mobb Deep

Title: Eye For An Eye (Your Beef Is Mines)
Album: The Infamous
Artist: Mobb Deep
Composer(s): Albert J Johnson, Nasir Jones, Kejuan Waliek Muchita, Corey Woods

Lyric:
As time goes by, an eye for an eye
We in this together son your beef is mine
So long as the sun shines to light up the sky
We in this together son your beef is mines

As time goes by, an eye for an eye
We in this together son your beef is mine
So long as the sun shines to light up the sky
We in this together, son your beef is mine

Let me start from the beginning, at the top of the list
Know what I mean, have a situation like this
Another war story from a thirsty young hustler, won't trust ya
I'd rather bust ya, and leave your corpse for the cops to discover

While I be dippin' in the range rover
All jeweled like Liberace
You watch me while Jakes tryin' to knock me and lock me
But I'll be on the low sippin' Asti Spumante

Niggaz try to creep on the side of my jeep
Stuck the heat through the window rocked their ass to sleep
Over a 3-pack, it was a small thing really, yeah
But keep lettin' them small things slide and be a failure

If I'm out of town one of my crew'll take care of ya
The world is ours and your team's inferior
You wanna bust caps I get, all up in your area
Kidnap your children make the situation scarier

Life is a gamble, we scramble for money
I might crack a smile but ain't a damn thing funny
I'm caught up in the dirt where your hands get muddy
Plus the outcome turns out to be lovely

Got G's in my pocket hit off my main squeeze
Push back, the sunroof, let the cold air breeze
Through the butter soft leather upholestry
But mostly, keep the gat closely, 'cause niggaz wanna toast me

Yo I gotta get mines, no matter what the con-sequences
Count up my blessings, add up my weapons
Cock back the gat and let my nine serve purpose
Sling do my thing organize fiend servants

Tryin' to make a mil is stress you know the deal
So we sling drills get your cap peeled, 'cause everything is real
'Cause I wanna chill, laid up in a jacuzzi
Sippin' bubbly, with my fingers on the uzi

Try to infiltrate my fort get caught
Dead up in new york, my brain is packed with criminal thoughts
Get your life lost never found again my friend
Mission completed, watch you drop in less than ten

On my road to the riches, hittin' snitches off with mad stitches
Your last restin' place'll be a ditch kid
No one can stop me try your style's sloppy

You want to be me, you're just an imitation copy
My theme is all about making the green
Livin' up in luxury, pushin' phat whips and livin' comfortably

As time goes by, an eye for an eye
We in this together son your beef is mine
So long as the sun shines to light up the sky
We in this together son your beef is mine

As time goes by, an eye for an eye
We in this together son your beef is mine
So long as the sun shines to light up the sky
We in this together son your beef is mine

A drug dealer's dream
Stash cream keys on a triple beam
Five hundred SL green, ninety-five nickle gleam
Condominium, thug dressed like a gentleman

Tailor made ostrich, chanel for my women friend
Murderin', numbers on your head while I'm burglarin'
Shank is servin' 'em, whassup to all my niggaz swervin'
New York metropolis, the bridge brings apocalypse

Shoot at the clouds feels like, the holy beast is watchin' us
Mad man my sanity is goin' like an hourglass
Gun inside my bad hand I sliced tryin' to bag grams
I got hoes that used to milk you

Niggaz who could've killed you
Is down with my ill crew of psychoes
Nas Escobar movin' on your weak production
Pumpin' corruption in the third world we just bustin'

Hold up and analyze the wildcats slang cracks
They swing an axe, the new routines, be my eyes black's
Playin' corners glancin' all up in your cornea
Corner ya, seen cats snatch monies up on ya

But late night, candlelight fiend with a crack pipe
It's only right, feelin' higher than an airplane right
Word yo, I want to get this money then blow
Take my time, blast a nine, if you front you go

Sip beers, the German ones, hand my guns to sons
Shaolin, and Queensbridge we robbin' niggaz for fun
But still, write my will out to my seeds then build
Mahalia sing a tale but the real we still kill

As time goes by, an eye for an eye
We in this together son your beef is mine
So long as the sun shines to light up the sky
We in this together son your beef is mine

As time goes by, an eye for an eye
We in this together son your beef is mine
So long as the sun shines to light up the sky
We in this together son your beef is mine

Uh, lay back, word up, just bless 'em with the bulletproof
Mobb Deep, Nas, Chef creation
For your nation, yeah

Play the MP3 online for free!

6cfde757d174091b935d060f5c82bdd4

We Are The Hustlaz - Lyrics - Untold Story Volume II - Game

Title: We Are The Hustlaz
Album: Untold Story Volume II
Artist: Game
Composer(s): Joseph Marcelle Tom, Jayceon Terrell Taylor

Lyric:
Yeah
Yeah, man we them niggaz everybody talkin 'bout
Hey yo, yo

Whether it's, chips or whips or bricks of 'caine
I still shine at the end when y'all forced to rain
Changed the game, three shots parade ya Range
Hit the passenger, driver, old man on a cane

I'm a shell in the chamber, waitin' to pop
Like Stoudamire on the court I'm used to movin' the rock
Cruise in the drop, 740, snub in the box
My attitude shifty, never callin' the cops

A Green Bay jersey, out on Bennett puffin' Hershey
D's on the route tryin' to catch a nigga dirty
Respect the flow, better yet respect the dough
He get respect like rich and po'

Fuck a 9 to 5, I'd rather wake up and spit bars
And your wife, known to make my dick hard
Cartier lenses, 22's on my Benz's
When shit break out, y'all hit the fences

We stay bent, laid back behind tint, puffin' sticks, spliff up
We are the hustlaz everyone's talkin' about
Big belt, flossy shades, paint on glaze, nigga
We are the hustlaz everyone's talkin' about

Unidentifiable straps makin' heat clap sicker
We are the hustlaz everyone's talkin' about
We about reliable scratch and gettin' this math quicker
We are the hustlaz everyone's talkin' about

Shit I might as well be duels, 'cause they call me the Flow master
I keep ridin' tracks like a natural disaster
You know I'm 'bout macra, I'll clap ya, a pirate like [Incomprehensible]
Far from a Hollywood actor

A factor, focused on paper and cars
I move like crowds, stay minglin' with the stars
I'm in the 6500 Benz truck with some broads
Dimes in every state I strike through be on me so hard

You know them Bentley bound, [Incomprehensible], wild Hummer chicks
That wanna take the car, cover up your tight summer shit
The game's heavy, man that's way off the charts
Heavier than killer whales at animal theme parks

You niggaz is SweeTarts, my family is street sharks
We keep the ER busy tryin' to revive the treat marks
Shit, we merk niggaz like Eddie, get ready
We got heat that set car alarms off like M-80's

We stay bent, laid back behind tint, puffin' sticks, spliff up
We are the hustlaz everyone's talkin' about
Big belt, flossy shades, paint on glaze, nigga
We are the hustlaz everyone's talkin' about

Unidentifiable straps makin' heat clap sicker
We are the hustlaz everyone's talkin' about
We about reliable scratch and gettin' this math quicker
We are the hustlaz everyone's talkin' about

The Game on some regular rhymin', fuck all this new shit
When they gon' let real niggaz get on that cruise ship
Black Sox and Dallas Squad got, chains and cars
Get, brains from stars after those awards

Miyagi's or doubles, don't think I won't buy out the bar
That's little shit, Mercedes dealership, buy out the cars
Sticker in the window, let 'em know that it's ours
Sittin' on shit you ain't never seen like we got it from Mars

Game like Laker Will, snatch a bitch off your arm
She see Game covered in ice like I lived through a snowstorm
Plus I blow digits like my first name was [Incomprehensible]
Pay off security at clubs, get our guns admitted

Outside the club in the parkin' lot, four dot six
Not know it's stocked? Nigga it's the one we keep the bricks in
Hard black on black leather's what we keep the chicks in
And bitches stay sniffin' like smellin' dubs is a sixth sense

We stay bent, laid back behind tint, puffin' sticks, spliff up
We are the hustlaz everyone's talkin' about
Big belt, flossy shades, paint on glaze, nigga
We are the hustlaz everyone's talkin' about

Unidentifiable straps makin' heat clap sicker
We are the hustlaz everyone's talkin' about
We about reliable scratch and gettin' this math quicker
We are the hustlaz everyone's talkin' about

Play the MP3 online for free!

474c140e9119693c0483cbbc513f4e38

Too Much For Me (Remix) - Lyrics - Dj Kayslay

Title: Too Much For Me (Remix)
Artist: Dj Kayslay
Composer(s): Mark Curry, Bernard Edwards, Nasir Jones, Inga Marchand, Nile Rodgers, Amerie Mi Marie Rogers, Bryan Williams, Joe Woolfolk

Lyric:
Check, check it out
Kayslay, what up, baby?
(Yeah)
Uh, Ame'
(Check it out)
Haha, Bravehearts, c'mon

Said it ain't too much for me
To have you next to me
I can't believe it, all the things I do
To keep you loving me

And it's just too much for me
To not have you by my side
'Cause no matter what you're going through
You know that I'm gon' ride, yeah

You a brave girl? I'm a Braveheart
In carhartand Champion Hoodies
You in the Benz Buggy with the fullies
I ride beside ya, we about to pull a all nighter

I'm 'Super Freak' like Rick James
Sex in rangers, parked on dangerous blocks
You like it when the strangers watch
I'm looking out for cops, you a girl with no fear

People put ya hands in the air for the GQ man of the year
That Bentley or polstry leather
The leather that be up in the coats I wear
Wherever I go so there ya have it

Cashmere fabrics, never caught in last year's garments
Holsters under armpits, chauffeurs and the charms lit
And a coat is holding on the Don's wrist
She got the ill Will chain on
Turquoise boots saying 'God's Son', this the theme song

Said it ain't too much for me
To have you next to me
I can't believe it, all the things I do
To keep you loving me

And it's just too much for me
To not have you by my side
'Cause no matter what you're going through
You know that I'm gon' ride, yeah

You know the size of this shit, I flips it quickly
Lose this trouble 'fore these people get with me
Holla at my hoes 'cause I dip my bitches
From gold to platinum from rag to riches

I'm the boss of the boss, the pimp shotcaller
Worldwide Rider in a Benz with a spoiler
In your city, tear yo mall up
Pimp fly bitches and tear their walls up

Dress nice, I'm super neat
Ice on white wit' 3's on her feat
Worldwide rider, I'm coast to coast
From Europe, Japan, I gets that dough

Send out 2, I get back 4
Yo, broad around me, I'm a lace that hoe
Smoke 'dro, redo my whips
Redo my chips this, the bird man bitch

Said it ain't too much for me
To have you next to me
I can't believe it, all the things I do
To keep you loving me

And it's just too much for me
To not have you by my side
'Cause no matter what you're goin' through
You know that I'm gon' ride, yeah

BK, I throw it up, feet stay manoloed up
Cris air canary, all these niggaz hear me
Lou Vuitton, Lou Batten
Bring fever, cock sucker when Foxy throw it on

I speak how I feel, I'm a Fox 5 General
Y'all rap bitches is all so subliminal
That's why I ones them every time I pass 'em
Frontin' wit' young G, the Fox 5 Captain

So which hoe wanna fuck wit' huns?
So come we dun ta push a dem one by one, whoa
Now make me bust off mi big Magnum
Spray off in the lobby, call us the Shower Posse

The Don Gogen, come through stylin' hard
But 2 goons from the Sherlock Squadron
It be a bachelor that Fox them sparrin'
And leave y'all niggaz on the sideline starvin'

Said it ain't too much for me
To have you next to me
I can't believe it, all the things I do
To keep you loving me

And it's just too much for me
To not have you by my side
'Cause no matter what you're going through
You know that I'm gon' ride, yeah

I, I, I wanna get to know you
I, I, I want you with me
I, I, I just want to show you
You belong to me

I, I, I wanna get to know you
I, I, I want you with me
I, I, I just want to show you
You belong to me

Said it ain't too much for me
To have you next to me
I can't believe it, all the things I do
To keep you loving me

And it's just too much for me
To not have you by my side
'Cause no matter what you're going through
You know that I'm gon' ride, yeah

Play the MP3 online for free!

c940e1fe7273f8ecdb9fda5305d61856

U Wanna Be Me - Lyrics - Soundtrack Exclusives & Rarities - Nas

Title: U Wanna Be Me
Album: Soundtrack Exclusives & Rarities
Artist: Nas
Composer(s): N Jones, C Thompson, Tony Long

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Lyric:
Uhh, ooh, baby, baby
Keep it thug and keep yo' heat
Na nah nah nah nah

Now slowly, thinkin' of all the things that oppose me
I think of kings who died and rappers out to dethrone me
For they crown they head is cut off, bodies is laid
Dead in the street, it's so fuckin' pitiful

First they love you, could be the bitch that even live with you
Mad at your riches, now she switched, turned miserable
'Cause she wanna dress like Bonnie, Robin and Crystal do
But Crystal's single, Bonnie's broke and her niggaz too

I can do bad by myself, went from rags to wealth
From Jags to Bentleys to plenty ass bitches
Can't keep they hands to they self no more
I'm like Hugh Hefner, you lesser

You just a wanna be me, you can't you fagot, you bitch
You coward, you clown, you just wanna be down
So u wanna be me, you bitch, you phony
You clone me, u wanna be me, son, I'm the one and only

But u wanna be me, you suckers, you weak
You flunkies, you fake, you couldn't come close on my worst day
But u wanna be me, I burn you and learn you a lesson
Concernin' this mic profession, turn your direction

You can't be me, not in your wildest fantasy
It's childish, should I have to resort to violence?
Pay me a half a million, I'll consult your album
And show you how to stay off my dick

That's the thing I hate the most, can't even call you a man
When you gotta call out my name to get you some fans
No talent, you need direction
You a pussy with a yeast infection

You unlucky, I'm your fuckin' C-section
Plus I'm the last real nigga alive
Toast glass, Ill Will, the label get high
Realize, how many classics I gave you
Perhaps if you think back you'll realize that I made you

U wanna be me, you can't you fagot, you bitch
You coward, you clown, you just wanna be down
So u wanna be me, you bitch, you phony
You clone me, u wanna be me, son, I'm the one and only

But u wanna be me, you suckers, you weak
You flunkies, you fake, you couldn't come close on my worst day
But u wanna be me, I burn you and learn you a lesson
Concernin' this mic profession, turn your direction

You can't be me, I'm tryin' to walk a straight line
Why they tryin' to take mine? I'm past 8 Miles of every state line
Eating, alligators and humming bird hearts
At the player's ball, Brianni suits, y'all birds watch

As real millionaire, shit'll take place
Evil as Hitler's hate-race people
This is God, son and I've come
From the God under pure peace
To represent the streets

You'll see that my plan is not to destroy your man
But to bring more to mankind and teach
Every MC, reach for your pens and papers
Lesson one be creative, what you made of junior?

'Cause soon you'll be a grown man with the mic in your hand
And understand to battle Nas, not in your plan
I'm the last real nigga alive, understand that
And you my offspring, the boss sting

A bulletproof Porsche things, hard for you to understand that
Nas the King, where my bricks, where my band at?
Play me a gangster's theme, while you entertain me
If I ain't cryin' laughin' to the lions, throw your ass in

What the fuck was you niggaz thinkin'?
Guns'll clutch if I get a inklin' that you comin' for the kingpin
But I laugh at you cowards, ha, ha, ha
Take me out, try, try, try

But u wanna be me, you can't, you fagot, you bitch
You coward, you clown, you just wanna be down
So u wanna be me, you bitch, you phony
You clone me, u wanna be me, son, I'm the one and only

But u wanna be me, you suckers, you weak
You flunkies, you fake, you couldn't come close on my worst day
But u wanna be me, I burn you and learn you a lesson
Concernin' this mic profession, turn your direction, you can't be me

Play the MP3 online for free!

9a51d856fe5be4b7dfb0f14b557dc8bd