No More Chain Gang - Lyrics - Boney M.

Title: No More Chain Gang
Artist: Boney M.
Composer(s): Fred Jay, Frank Farian, Ehrhard

Lyric:
He was black and handsome and mighty, mighty brave
Comin' from the backwoods, the grandson of a slave
He was caught for something they knew he'd never done
And he was diggin' ditches out in the burnin' sun

Working on the chain gang, no more
Working on the chain gang, no more
Working on the chain gang, no more
Working on the chain gang, no more
No more, no more, no more

Man he was a giant and iron he could bend
And he swore he'd fight them down to the bitter end
Though he was no talker his burnin' eyes would say
You may keep on tryin' can't hold me no way

Working on the chain gang, no more
Working on the chain gang, no more
Working on the chain gang, no more
Working on the chain gang, no more
No more, no more, no more

And one night he lay in waiting
Hit the guard and took the key
And before the others caught him
He jumped out and he was free
He jumped out and he was free

He made for the swamp lands it seemed a hopeless duel
They had dogs and shotguns and they were mighty cruel
But they couldn't find him, he was too smart and strong
Hiding' in the daytime, wandering all night long

Working on the chain gang, no more
Working on the chain gang, no more
Working on the chain gang, no more
...

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Penitentiary Chances - Lyrics - Harlem: Diary of a Summer - Jim Jones

Title: Penitentiary Chances
Album: Harlem: Diary of a Summer
Artist: Jim Jones
Composer(s): D Mohammed, Jim Jones

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Lyric:
Rell fresh home
How it feel to back where the bricks my nigga
Ya heard, I got the D.A. on my ass right now
All my soldiers behind the G Wall
Inhale, exhale, fuck the police

I'm up early on the strip while the birds chirpin'
I had to turn my ohone off too many birds chirpin'
Damn my homies gotta sit in the bing
So for them, I flood my chain and piss in my ring

Yeah, shit on these niggaz 'til I sit wit the Lord
I woulda been home last year but I got hit at the board, nigga
Yeah, you spotted man, now you red dotted man
You fuckin' wit Hell Rell, New York City's rider man

Now is these niggaz some killers like us?
No
They say the real, well they realer than us?
No, no, no

Is my set good?
Yes
Is my bet good?
Yes
Is my threat good?
Yes, yes, yes

Since you've been home they done indicted ya boy
Due to the circumstances of this life we enjoy
Niggaz start snitchin' they Sammy the Bullin'
'Til my niggaz start grippin' these hammers and pull 'em

That's when these niggaz start switchin' turnin' Islamic and Muslim
'Cause they seein' my position is straight savage and hoodlums
Shit, who suffered and lost, my new truck is a Porsche
This is One-Eye Willie and I'm from fuckin' New York

Who them niggaz paintin' the town red
Dip-set
Banks stop and we lay down bets
Byrd Gang
Who them niggaz gettin' that money man
Dip-set, Dip-set, Dip-set, Dip-set, Dip-set

Who them niggaz leave wit ya bitch nigga
Byrd Gang
Who them niggaz squeezin at bitch niggaz
Dip-set
Who them niggaz that gotta get rich nigga
Byrd Gang, Byrd Gang, Byrd Gang, Byrd Gang, Byrd Gang

Now do these niggaz be bangin' like me?
No
They say they G is they gangstas like me?
No, no, no

Is my guns good?
Yes
Is my ones good?
Yes
Do we run hoods?
Yes, yes, yes

My pistol game been tight since chicken lo mein and rice
Tryna get that paper, flippin' that caine for a price
Fiends goin brazy, hittin that caine through the pipe
Niggaz that bang to the right, I'm just sayin this is life

So we adore and survive
Cause through this war we gon ride wit two 4's on our side
Shit, man I'm riskin' it all
Cause for this love and this money man, I just wanna ball

Who them niggaz paintin' the town red?
Dip-set
Banks stop and we lay down bets
Byrd Gang
Who them niggaz gettin' that money man
Dip-set, Dip-set, Dip-set, Dip-set, Dip-set

Who them niggaz leave wit ya bitch nigga
Byrd Gang
Who them niggaz squeezin' at bitch niggaz
Dip-set
Who them niggaz that gotta get rich nigga
Byrd Gang, Byrd Gang, Byrd Gang, Byrd Gang, Byrd Gang

These niggaz want me to slow down and switch my speed
And these bitches pokin' holes in the condom tryna get my seed
Leave me alone lemme twist my weed
Two things I never seen a U.F.O. and a bitch I need

The Beamer shinin' on B.B.'s, niggaz tryin' to be me
You gangsta on the streets dawg, north signin' to P.C
These niggaz washed up callin' it quits
It don't matter, Porsche to 6, they be all my dick

I slaughter the strip wit a quarter a brick
I got Florida chicks comin' to N.Y. for the dick
I only been home for a month but I'm still fresh y'all
Up in this booth and still smellin' like the mess hall

Now is these niggaz more liver than me?
No
He kinda hot but is he spittin' more fire than me?
No, no, no, no

Is my dope good?
Yes
Is my coke good?
Yes
Am I so hood?
Yes, yes, yes, yes

Now is these niggaz some killas like us
No
They say the real, well they realer than us
No, no, no

Is my set good?
Yes
Is my bet good?
Yes
Is my threat good?
Yes, yes, yes

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The Shivers - Lyrics - Naughty By Nature

Title: The Shivers
Artist: Naughty By Nature
Composer(s): Keir Gist, Vincent Vinnie Brown, Anthony Criss

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Lyric:
Yeah, dog, man, you know I'm sayin'
Fuck all you motherfuckers that wanna call the police on us and shit When we tryin' to get our motherfuckin' loot, you know I'm sayin'?
(What, what?)
Fuck y'all
(What?)
You know I'm sayin'?

You can rap, you can sing, see it ain't no thing
'Cause every nigga in my click is first nigga to swing
Place the call, make you fall, we can break them all
'Cause every nigga we control, first nigga to roll

So fuck the shivers, the Chain Gang delivers
Kaboom, the whole room, the Platune, don't give a nigga what?
Your whole style got too much cut, nigga what?
Pick up your guns, now what the fuck

I get the fuck up, your truant lifestyle, let's rough
I'm even gon' be rich or poor, dead or handcuffed
Niggas bust, but miss and now the war is on
(Back)
And we gon' celebrate when you get murdered, deceased and gone

Retaliation is a must when you fuck with us
Tell me what was on your mind when you loaded your pistol up?
Was it some gangsta shit, that couldn't been it
(Nah, that ain't it, fuck)
'Cause you bust four shots and still missed, now dig this

Don't know your name but know your face
You made a mistake now you must be erased
Really though, I'm loc'ed, go, deranged, sick and insane
Drop rights, to start more fights than Mills Lane

So fuck the shivers, the Chain Gang delivers
Kaboom, the whole room, the Platune, don't give a nigga what?
Your whole style got too much cut, nigga what?
Pick up your guns, now what the fuck

Voluptuous vixen, wear my dime pair, watch it like Nixon
Niggas mad 'cause they can't put restrictions
They know we fixin' to put the Chain team in the mainstream
Cut the bad blood like gangrene, lyrical vaccine

Injected by this mind specimen, my Oestrogen
Make the best of men, guess again, I'm fresh in wind
Consumed by the date stem, tramps get amped
'Cause they can't cramp the camp, we leave 'em damp

Got them scared stiff like mannequins
Keep 'em panicin', then we vanishin' into the world at large
The Chain Gang Platune
Be the head niggas in charge

I serve to protect, self charge on police premises
Break bones as rug-be-snug, slugs being sold and printless
Stay spittin' at your divisions, hit your visions
Chain but automatic interest got taste for higher proof liquors

If it gets adventures, affective niggas, arrest resistance
Timper screamin' that deaf vast words, splintered without the whispers
Connects got prices for product, but Tune fathers vanish
Rock the cuts, now I control sonic voices like Aprovada

A thugs' mug shots' worth dollars
Holla, we strange drama killers, can't stop the
For pain is absolute vodka, Tre, confrontation watch man
For the progress of nation, yo, I'm eatin' through your concentrations

I'm comin' out combat and com Bows
Competition is a combination of combustion
Too valuable for commandin' nothin'
I continue cuttin' destruction's smokin' or choke eruptions
From California to Connecticut

I can hear the functions, continue the Lexus
[Incomprehensible] tell them [incomprehensible]
Category code of the street, let's see the next day
The Cruddy Click clicks and classics k-kloaw
'Cause it's beef on the streets then kick, kick the cow

Catapult and critters kick 'em, quickers clap
Cookin' trio's like Crio, I'll split that ass that go show your crack
The killer cultural when I'm gun away to [incomprehensible]
Since you got murdered they left you
The bitches who said you deserved it

You can rap, you can sing, see it ain't no thing
'Cause every nigga in my click is first nigga to swing
Place the call, make you fall, we can break them all
'Cause every nigga we control, first nigga to roll

So fuck the shivers, the Chain Gang delivers
Kaboom, the whole room, the Platune, don't give a nigga what?
Your whole style got too much cut, nigga what?
Pick up your guns, now what the fuck

Guess, who speak the truth?
I see the noose when the tongue get loose
Neck choke for the wrong shit you spoke
Took the wrong approach, invincible

With the writin' utensil, convincin' you
On instrumentals my moody mental, sets the tempo
Abdul of the mic but your flow
Slice and a dice a extra nice, a writer from the deathest cypher

Jersey believes 'em right, but Chain Gang with the sane slang
Crazy, deranged, strange, with a sharp aim
And shootin' range as deep as Danny maintain gets forfeited
When we show up to play the sport

Niggas show the military support and fight for what you brought up
Play to a good battle, battle and got grazed
In the heart of New Jersey, straight land of the crazed
Bad blood boils and picky goals will destroy you

Fans, straight hand me the jams to unemploy you
Yo, so you better keep it real right and tight
Or that spotlight might
Only last for one night, aight

You can rap, you can sing, see it ain't no thing
'Cause every nigga in my click is first nigga to swing
Place the call, make you fall, we can break them all
'Cause every nigga we control, first nigga to roll

So fuck the shivers, the Chain Gang delivers
Kaboom, the whole room, the Platune, don't give a nigga what?
Your whole style got too much cut, nigga what?
Pick up your guns, now what the fuck

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96723a2f07b5bf037d12a0a5f48592ac

Candy Coated - Lyrics - Darkhorse - Crazytown

Title: Candy Coated
Album: Darkhorse
Artist: Crazytown
Composer(s): Thomas Abate, Seth Binzer, Craig Heilman, Bret Mazur, Doug Miller, Michael Raymo, Anthony Valli

Lyric:
Now can you hear the cling clang of my ball and chain gang?
The sound of heavy metal that tastes like cellophone
Collapsing every vein like umbrellas in heavy rain
My passion is pain
I do dirt to bury shame
I'm victimized, institution's no solution
A place where you're defenseless and guilt's the prosecution
Where necks are bound into Slipknots of shallow souls
Walkin' narrow roads to be hung frok gallows poles
Nobody knows me, success has exposed me
To narrow minded souls with goals to overthrow me
Suppose that I chose to live my life low key
Would you act like you could teach?
When there is nothing you can show me
Don't you understand I'm the head of the class
A straight 'A' student not regretting the past

You see I'm ok now but I don't think it will last
(Haa, haa, haa, haa)
Because reality is something I can't seem to grasp

Candy coated pain is like a ball and chain
Pulling me closer to death, I feel closer to death now
(Haa, haa, haa)
Candy coated pain is like a ball and chain
We only dig deeper by runnin' away

It's deeper than what it looks like
We never got an equal shot so we took mics
Packed the candy coated pain in the first pipe
That said my name and the candy coated pain is the worst type
You got it nice my every day is like your worst night
The world is diggin' in my wounds screaming out I bet it hurts right?
But it hurts more
(Hurts more)
I got regrets but
I'm glad I took the prize behind the first door
What's the hurt for?
Everybody hungers peace but they thirst war
It's crazy I'm not complaining 'cause I probably would have tried better
And if the people that I trusted weren't lie tellers
Keep your candy coated pain to make the vibe better
Now all the songs I'm writing sound like suicide letters

You think I'm ok now but I don't think it will last
(Haa, haa, haa, haa)
'Cause reality is something I can't seem to grasp

Candy coated pain is like a ball and chain
Pulling me closer to death, I feel closer to death now
(Haa, haa, haa)
Candy coated pain is like a ball and chain
Pulling me closer to death, I feel closer to death now

Candy coated pain is like a ball and chain
Pulling me closer to death, I feel closer to death
(Haa, haa)
(Closer to death )
Candy coated pain is like a ball and chain
We only dig deeper by runnin' away

Guilty or innocent whatever pick the verdict
Sometimes a perfect picture's not so perfect
Thought I could reverse the mixture it isn't really worth it
'Cause my life seems to work no matter how hard curse it
I only know a little but I feel so much
The pain brings me down but it reveals the rush
See I got my arms up just to shield the dust
'Cause I lust for the things I can't seem to touch

Arrest me if I follow you
You congest me, I'm so hollow from your gift
You infect me when I cut you
Still the same, still insane
I think I love you
(But fuck you)

Candy coated pain is like a ball and chain
Pulling me closer to death, I feel closer to death now
(Haa, haa, haa)
Candy coated pain is like a ball and chain
Pulling me closer to death, I feel closer to death now
Candy coated pain is like a ball and chain

You think I'm ok now but I don't think it will last
(Haa, haa, haa, haa)
'Cause reality is something I can't seem to grasp

Candy coated pain is like a ball and chain
We only dig deeper by runnin' away

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Lonely Street - Lyrics - Song For America - Kansas

Title: Lonely Street
Album: Song For America
Artist: Kansas
Composer(s): David C Hope, Steve Walsh, Richard John Williams, Phil Ehart

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

Lyric:
Sometimes when I'm walking down this lonely street
Well, it sure don't seem like it's been twenty years
Since I went walking down this lonely street
And the smell of perfumed ladies filled the air

This street ain't got no name, dead end is in the river
And I lived where I hated life day by day
There wasn't nothing that I could do to shake a cold night shiver
'Cause to move up Lonely Street you had to have some say

Gambling is bad luck down on Lonely Street
And it sure ain't no place to be when a man gets sore
You know I killed a man and I paid all I can
With twenty years on a chain gang
For the flesh and the blood on that jail house floor

Sometimes when I'm walking down this lonely street
I get caught up in a dream that won't let me go
And as the bright lights flash up and down this lonely street
My mind rolls back the years a long time ago

I see my baby stumblin' 'round with tears in her eyes
And as I reach out for her, she falls on the floor
She mumbles through bloody lips about a black man, robber, raper
And in my gut I know I got one to score

I need somebody, oh oh yea
I need somebody, yea
And I need a, and I need a, eh ha
And I need a, yea ah

The word was comin' down, down on Lonely Street
That the black man was a dead man if he crossed my trail
Every night I'd walk up and down this Lonely Street
I get stinkin' drunk always in jail

One night they threw me in with a man they called, 'The Mangler'
He was caught on the street makin' some old whore
I remember he was quite proud of that
So half crazed I shot him
And I cried in the blood on that jail house floor

Oh I don't want no more
Oh yea, yea

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Four Walls Of Raiford - Lyrics - The Essential Lynyrd Skynyrd - Lynyrd Skynyrd

Title: Four Walls Of Raiford
Album: The Essential Lynyrd Skynyrd
Artist: Lynyrd Skynyrd
Composer(s): Ronnie Van Zant, Jeffrey S. Carlisi

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

Lyric:
Well, them four walls of Raiford, closin' in on me
Doin' three to five hard labor, for armed robbery
I had two years behind me but I could not wait the time
Every time I thought about it, well I died some more inside

And I had stripes on my back, memories that hurt
For the only time I seen sunshine is when I hit the dirt
Diggin' ditches for the chain gang, sleepin' in the cold
Oh Lord, please forgive me, for I could not wait no more

And I'm comin' home to see You Jesus
Well, it feels so close this time
Please take mercy on this soldier
From the Florida-Georgia line

When they find me, they must kill me
Oh Jesus, save my soul
I can't go back down to Raiford
I can't take that anymore

Well, these last few years behind me, oh Lord, have been so sad
I fought proudly for my country when the times were bad
Now they say, I'm guilty when they find me, I must die
Only me and Jesus know that I never stole a dime

Well, when Vietnam was over, there was no work here for me
I had a pretty wife awaitin' and two kids I had to feed
Well, I'm one of America's heroes when they shoot me down
Won't fly old glory proudly, put my medals in the ground

And I'm comin' home to see You Jesus
Well, it feels so close this time
Please take mercy on this soldier
From the Florida-Georgia line

When they find me, they must kill me
Oh Jesus, save my soul
I can't go back down to Raiford
I can't take that anymore

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77d74aa9a951321d42fc3253152ea9d9

Hot - Lyrics - Under Construction - Missy Elliott

Title: Hot
Album: Under Construction
Artist: Missy Elliott
Composer(s): Tim Mosley, Missy Elliott

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

Lyric:
This is an old school Missy exclusive

Look I ain't on no ra ra shit
You wanna test how far miss get
Me and Timothy's cars got kits
But we don't drive around tryin' to prove you shit

Everyone trying to be that bitch
But there can only be one bitch, make hits
I know I must make y'all sick
'Cause after I spit you beg to quit

I used to drive a six
And then I bought a Mercala Gold and sit
On the plush leather seats forget
And I have my own click, yes I must admit

And my ass is it
Misdemeanor have you seen her? I'm the best to get
And those who try to test this chick
Where they at right now? In peace restin' in

If you broke, just say you broke
'Cause all you blowin' up ya ass is some smoke
'Cause rich folks, we buy boats
And you's a bum broke nigga that's for sure

I know you broke, just say you broke
'Cause all you blowin' up ya ass is some smoke
'Cause rich folks, we buy boats
And you's a bum broke liar that's for sure

Yea boo, you know, you a joke
Wear a fake Rolex, call it a Ro
Actin' like you down with so and so
You whack on whack, bows I came to throw

I might just let you mop my floor
For my autograph take this flick to go
Cheese! Miss don't say no more
'Cause you know what I do and you know what I know

And I don't think so
You don't wanna lose a arm or elbow
If ya broke then just say so
'Cause the Bentley that you rentin', yo, it's just got to go

Back to the black man sto'
Along with ya weave cop a new Afro
Why you wanna make miss stoop so low?
But if you try to test me, I just check ya slow

If you broke, just say you broke
'Cause all you blowin' up ya ass is some smoke
'Cause rich folks, we buy boats
And you's a bum broke nigga that's for sure

I know you broke, just say you broke
'Cause all you blowin' up ya ass is some smoke
'Cause rich folks, we buy boats
And you's a bum broke liar that's for sure

In old school we used to call out names
But I ain't tryin' to give you no fame
My credit card gon' bring ya pain
To know your account just hold change

No need to wreck ya brains
Trying to see who Missy gon' slain
I roll solo, not with a gang
I don't carry guns, kick ass with a chain

Don't let me say it again
I don't carry guns, kick ass with a chain
Whatta! Like a Chinese man
Reverse it, you know what I'm sayin'?

If you broke, just say you broke
'Cause all you blowin' up ya ass is some smoke
'Cause rich folks, we buy boats
And you's a bum broke nigga that's for sure

I know you broke, just say you broke
'Cause all you blowin' up ya ass is some smoke
'Cause rich folks, we buy boats
And you's a bum broke liar that's for sure

{Dear Lord Almighty
I know when It's our time to go, it's our time to go
But when you come to carry us home
Do we not be entertainers any more?}

{Do we just rest in peace
Or do we go back to see our families' pain?
Do we not remember here on Earth
Or come back as a new person again?}

{I ask these questions
Will Aaliyah, Lisa, Tupac, Big Pun be our newest generation?
Because if so, like a Michael Jackson release
The whole world is anticipating}

{The cds fall and the soldiers come back
And get the crown they deserve
For giving us great music and great music
That will always be heard, we love you}

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The Battle Of Epping Forrest - Lyrics - Genesis

Title: The Battle Of Epping Forrest
Artist: Genesis
Composer(s): Phil Collins, Anthony Banks, Peter Gabriel, Steve Hackett

Lyric:
Along the forest road there's hundreds of cars, luxury cars
Each has got its load of convertible bars, cutlery cars, super scars
For today is the day when they sort it out, sort it out
'Cause they disagree on a gangland boundary
They disagree on a gangland boundary

There's Willy Wright and his boys, one helluva noise
That's Billy's boys with fully-fashioned mugs
That's little John's thugs, the barking slugs, super smugs
For today is the day when they sort it out, sort it out

Yes, these Christian soldiers fight to protect the poor
East end heroes got to score in the battle of Epping forest
Yes, it's the battle of Epping forest right outside your door

And you ain't seen nothing like it
No, you ain't seen nothing like it
Not since the civil war

Comin' over the hill are the boys of Bill
And Johnny's lads stand very still
With the thumpires shout, they all start to clout
There's no guns in this gentleman's bout

And Georgie moves in on the outside left
With a chain flying round his head
And Harold Demure, from art literature
Nips up the nearest tree, here come the cavalry

Amidst the battle roar, accountants keep the score, 10-4
They've never been alone, after getting a radiophone
The bluebells are ringing for sweet meal Sam, real ham
Handin' out bread and jam just like any picnic, picnic, picnic, picnic

It's 5 to 4 on William Wright, he made his pile on derby night
When Billy was a kid walking the streets, the other kids hid, so they did
And now after workin' hard in security trade, he's got it made
The shops that need aid are those that haven't paid

"I do my double-show quick" Said Mick the prick, fresh out the Nick
"I sold cheap holiday, the minute they leave
Then a visit I pay an' does it pay"
His friend, liquid Len by name, of wine, women and wands worth fame
Said, "I'm breaking the legs of the bastard that got me framed"
I'm breaking the legs of the bastard that got me framed, got me framed

They called me the reverend when I entered the church unstained
My employers have changed but the name has remained
All began when I went on a tour, hoping to find some furniture
I followed a sign, it said, 'Beautiful Chest"
It led to a lady who showed me her best

She was taken by surprise when I quickly closed my eyes
So she rang the bell, and quick as hell
Bob the nob, came out on his job to see what the trouble was

"Louise, is the reverend hard to please? "
"You're telling me!"
"Perhaps, sir, if its not too late
We could interest you in our old-fashioned Stafford shire plate? "
"Oh no, not me, I'm a man of repute"
But the devil caught hold of my soul and a voice called out "Shoot!"

To save my steeple, I visited people
For this I'd gone when I met little John
His name came, I understood
When the judge said, "You're a robbing hood"

He told me of his strange foundation
Conceived on sight of the Woodstock nation
He'd had to hide his reputation
When poor, 'twas salvation from door to door

But now, with a pin-up guru every week
It was love, peace and truth incorporated for all who seek
He employed me as a karma-ma-mechanic, with overall charms
His hands were then fit to receive, receive alms

That's why we're in the battle of Epping forest
Yes, it's the battle of Epping forest
Right outside your door

We guard your souls for peanuts
And we guard your shops and houses
For just a little more, just a little more

In with a left hook is the bethnal green butcher
But hes countered on the right by Mick's chain-gang fight
And liquid Len, with his smashed bottle men
Is lobbing Bob the nob across the gob

With his kisser in a mess, Bob seems under stress
But Jones the jug hits Len right in the mug
And Harold Demure, who's still not quite sure
Fires acorns from out of his sling, here come the cavalry

Up, up above the crowd
Inside their silver cloud, done proud
The bold and brazen brass, seen darkly through the glass
The butlers got jam on his rolls, Roy Doles out the lot
With tea from a silver pot just like any picnic, picnic, picnic, picnic

Along the forest road, its the end of the day
And the clouds roll away
Each has got its load, they'll come out for the count
At the breakin' of day

When the limos return for their final review, it's all through
All they can see is the morning goo
"There's no one left alive, must be a draw"
So the black cap barons toss a coin to settle the score

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The Battle Of Epping Forest - Lyrics - Selling England By The Pound - Genesis

Title: The Battle Of Epping Forest
Album: Selling England By The Pound
Artist: Genesis
Composer(s): Phil Collins, Anthony Banks, Peter Gabriel, Steve Hackett

Lyric:
Along the forest road there's hundreds of cars, luxury cars
Each has got its load of convertible bars, cutlery cars, super scars
For today is the day when they sort it out, sort it out
'Cause they disagree on a gangland boundary
They disagree on a gangland boundary

There's Willy Wright and his boys, one helluva noise
That's Billy's boys with fully-fashioned mugs
That's little John's thugs, the barking slugs, super smugs
For today is the day when they sort it out, sort it out

Yes, these Christian soldiers fight to protect the poor
East end heroes got to score in the battle of Epping forest
Yes, it's the battle of Epping forest right outside your door

And you ain't seen nothing like it
No, you ain't seen nothing like it
Not since the civil war

Comin' over the hill are the boys of Bill
And Johnny's lads stand very still
With the thumpires shout, they all start to clout
There's no guns in this gentleman's bout

And Georgie moves in on the outside left
With a chain flying round his head
And Harold Demure, from art literature
Nips up the nearest tree, here come the cavalry

Amidst the battle roar, accountants keep the score, 10-4
They've never been alone, after getting a radiophone
The bluebells are ringing for sweet meal Sam, real ham
Handin' out bread and jam just like any picnic, picnic, picnic, picnic

It's 5 to 4 on William Wright, he made his pile on derby night
When Billy was a kid walking the streets, the other kids hid, so they did
And now after workin' hard in security trade, he's got it made
The shops that need aid are those that haven't paid

"I do my double-show quick" Said Mick the prick, fresh out the Nick
"I sold cheap holiday, the minute they leave
Then a visit I pay an' does it pay"
His friend, liquid Len by name, of wine, women and wands worth fame
Said, "I'm breaking the legs of the bastard that got me framed"
I'm breaking the legs of the bastard that got me framed, got me framed

They called me the reverend when I entered the church unstained
My employers have changed but the name has remained
All began when I went on a tour, hoping to find some furniture
I followed a sign, it said, 'Beautiful Chest"
It led to a lady who showed me her best

She was taken by surprise when I quickly closed my eyes
So she rang the bell, and quick as hell
Bob the nob, came out on his job to see what the trouble was

"Louise, is the reverend hard to please? "
"You're telling me!"
"Perhaps, sir, if its not too late
We could interest you in our old-fashioned Stafford shire plate? "
"Oh no, not me, I'm a man of repute"
But the devil caught hold of my soul and a voice called out "Shoot!"

To save my steeple, I visited people
For this I'd gone when I met little John
His name came, I understood
When the judge said, "You're a robbing hood"

He told me of his strange foundation
Conceived on sight of the Woodstock nation
He'd had to hide his reputation
When poor, 'twas salvation from door to door

But now, with a pin-up guru every week
It was love, peace and truth incorporated for all who seek
He employed me as a karma-ma-mechanic, with overall charms
His hands were then fit to receive, receive alms

That's why we're in the battle of Epping forest
Yes, it's the battle of Epping forest
Right outside your door

We guard your souls for peanuts
And we guard your shops and houses
For just a little more, just a little more

In with a left hook is the bethnal green butcher
But hes countered on the right by Mick's chain-gang fight
And liquid Len, with his smashed bottle men
Is lobbing Bob the nob across the gob

With his kisser in a mess, Bob seems under stress
But Jones the jug hits Len right in the mug
And Harold Demure, who's still not quite sure
Fires acorns from out of his sling, here come the cavalry

Up, up above the crowd
Inside their silver cloud, done proud
The bold and brazen brass, seen darkly through the glass
The butlers got jam on his rolls, Roy Doles out the lot
With tea from a silver pot just like any picnic, picnic, picnic, picnic

Along the forest road, its the end of the day
And the clouds roll away
Each has got its load, they'll come out for the count
At the breakin' of day

When the limos return for their final review, it's all through
All they can see is the morning goo
"There's no one left alive, must be a draw"
So the black cap barons toss a coin to settle the score

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98cf95aa0bb95d2318db2cb327793730

Soul Power - Lyrics - Electric Circus - Common

Title: Soul Power
Album: Electric Circus
Artist: Common
Composer(s): Ahmir Thompson, Rashid Lonnie Lynn, James Dewitt Yancey, James Jason Poyser

Lyric:
Yeah, for the world
Keep going so that
Yo, you can rock on
We keep going so you can
Yo, you can rock on
We keep going so you can
Yo, you can rock on
We keep going

Nigga breathe can tell by how you rap you don't believe
Ain't hungry no more, so off me you feed
I hustle outta speed between greed and need
On the streets where intuition and weed are breed

Shoot the gift in fifth, at the myths uplift
My rhyme the clip, it's like the boom bip to tip
In gangways where cats that rhyme the same way
Spending nights over Egypt to learn a brave day

Paint a picture of the ghetto like J.J.
You the Ray J. of this rap world
I travel the globe with a black girl name Becky
Grand like Auto Theft three
Style so developed the law can't arrest me

You walk with blood on your shirt
Like Jesse Jackson trying to test the reaction of the people
See through trying to out act Don Cheadle
I speak to original Hebrews you know how we do

And bleed through the needle with truth
That needs no preview to proof
It's in the people and how they react
Still in the business of smacking
Rappers is wack you had a dope track
I guess opposites attract

My mind state is black, black like Bernie Mack
No cowards soul power in the words we rap

Soul power
Soul power
Soul power
Soul power

Soul power
Soul power
Soul power
Soul power

Picks with fist, thick grease, dark nipples
My guy buy ice I search for the dark crystal
Racing for paper these broads is starter pistols
I spit through gang wars and strange doors

Out the sky flames pour the beats claims war
I see niggaz with flags who they waving 'em for?
I'm the nigga that you put the chain on the door for
The nigga that you started changing the laws for

Orator of hardcore and more
My raps the portal for the blue collar
They made a hit and came up on a few dollars
I'd rather listen to silence than you holla

Borrowed your persona from the late that made dear mama
My realness is the armor that I wear up in this boy
For truth you're a decoy
Common sense is like the future of the Bee-boy

I fall down and get up like Don McClerken
Hit, push and listen to it whistle while I'm trekin'
Break it down like herb
The nympho of info I'm fucking what you heard

You ain't ready for war you're stuck in the reserves
I mastered my high so I'm bucking at the birds
I been wanted to fly now I do it with the words
For those in the fast-lane I show you how to merge

Get your own, you see it's like home grown
Herb black economics the people we serve with soul power

Soul power
Soul power
Soul power
...

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bf58fb38d996c218b10bd7eaadae814a

Back Up Off The Wall - Lyrics - Brand Nubian

Title: Back Up Off The Wall
Artist: Brand Nubian
Composer(s): Keith Jones, Maxwell Dixon, Derek Murphy, Lorenzo Dechalus, Chauncey Hawkins

Lyric:
No, Flagro
Uh, what
Yeah, Brand Nu' comin' through
Long Island, Harlem World, all out, all out
Let's talk about tit
What, yeah, now put ya hands up
Uh, what, now put ya hands up
Put ya hands up
Now get ya back up off the wall

I'm better feeling than running raw
Chain gang link I need a shrink
What y'all niggaz think I'm a do when I get real money
Iano keys played in series
Peace to Lil' Cease
Microphone track board, loose chord, oh Lord
Promo number one Sadat X had a grenade
And the have next day I smashed the shit Allie played
Now we delayed by ninety days
You better find me anyways
You better return to the Terror dome, ain't nobody home
Non-haters play the corner in the elevator
Crash crews smack the open palm so you don't bruise
You push a button and what happens nothing
I push one and there's a man with a gun in the doorway
I'm in 4A, I been in there all day
I had some smokes, some bitches and chicken on a slab
There's enough for everybody so y'all niggaz don't grab

Come on, come on, come on, yo
So get your back up off the wall
What, I said dance, come on, come on
So put your hands up
Stop frontin and pop somethin
Cornball niggaz stay frontin ain't got nothin
Mad cause the life I lead, twice ya speed
Brown-skinned Miami, that's the wife I need
Light that weed, front nigga might just bleed
Tryin to ball with y'all but I might just flee

The second coming of Christ
I'll make you run for your life
It's like a gun up against a knife
You can never win, when we fight to the end
I'm tight with the pen
Don't be going off the head, cause they be blown off the head
And showin off the skills of the mentally dead
I do the knowledge before any words get said
Herbs get me red, hold on, Simply Red
Pimps be dead in rap, everybody's fed with that
Y'all could go ahead with that
I'm trying to show you where my head is at
Dread be the positive black
Drop the B, you get lack
See you when you get back
Lyrical three-pack, spiritual miracle
Uhh, Lord Jamar the imperial
Microphone serial killer, urban guerilla
You acting mysterious, we out to take this rap shit serious
Slap the taste out of your mouth, then break out

Come on, come on, come on, yo
So get your back up off the wall
What, I said dance, come on, come on
So put your hands up
Stop frontin and pop somethin
Cornball niggaz stay frontin ain't got nothin
Mad cause the life I lead, twice ya speed
Brown-skinned Miami, that's the wife I need
Light that weed, front nigga might just bleed
Tryin to ball with y'all but I might just flee

Now I'm a put a rush up on molasses
Breeze on through like easy passes
Wiggle more asses than aerobic classes
El kabong, my people blaze them trees up like Cheech and Chong
Get that ass open like a pair of butt cheeks in thong
For sure dog, I don't mean to come off pushy
Blaze your party hot, and have it smelling like D'bussy
Spit my phlegm and drop my gem
Collect my wins and copy the Benz with the icy rims
I be dramatical, mathematical, radical thriller
The mic killa wreckin more shit than Godzilla
Matter of fact I'm more iller, knock your shit off the pillar
The four-wheeler touched every flava but vanilla
You know my name, my game, so shorty shake that thang
I get you open like them ball-head niggaz on Rogaine
Spit my flow all the way from New Ro'
To Acapulco, white poos brown like cocoa
Flip flows def like so so

Come on, come on, come on, yo
So get your back up off the wall
What, I said dance, come on, come on
So put your hands up
Stop frontin and pop somethin
Cornball niggaz stay frontin ain't got nothin
Mad cause the life I lead, twice ya speed
Brown-skinned Miami, that's the wife I need
Light that weed, front nigga might just bleed
Tryin to ball with y'all but I might just flee

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8ef58842ea5416b331dc3b7e9d7b816b

Represent - Lyrics - Jackpot - Chingy

Title: Represent
Album: Jackpot
Artist: Chingy
Composer(s): Alonso Lee, Sandimanie Howard Bailey, Shamar Daugherty, Epp

Lyric:
Throw yo hood up if you representin'
(Northside, westside, southside, eastside)
On my side ain't nothing but hustlas baby
Throw yo hood up if you representin'
(Westside, northside, eastside, southside)
On my side ain't nothing but gangstas baby
Throw yo hood up if you representin'

Gangsta as a Cadillac DeVille wit fo's
This for all my thundercats that feel my flow
To slang weight, my young guns will steal ya O's
Catch a bellin' down Lukerson & Hunt de-real a ho
In ya top piece, suburb mart, ya not street
I know fools from Wilson that'll whack ya, ya got beef
Used to go to Skate King back when bangin' was in
And if the fiends ain't have 20, we would slang it for 10

Drankin' the gin, posted on the corners at night
Sparkin' pound while my homies in the street, slap fight
Ride bikes, patrolin' the hood, keepin' out cops
Regals and drops, reppin' 'cuz beak in my block
Wild like rocks, my mentality got from my pops
And saints, bustin' back in '90 hope you got from the shots
Put it down for the town and I gang wit us
St. Louis did it derty, throw yo hood up did you know we from the

(Northside, Westside, Southside, Eastside)
On my side ain't nothing but hustlas baby
Throw yo hood up if you representin'
(Westside, Northside, Eastside, Southside)
On my side ain't nothing but gangstas baby
Throw yo hood up if you representin'
(Northside, Eastside, Southside, Westside)
On my side ain't nothing but playas baby
Throw yo hood up if you representin'
(Eastside, Southside, Westside)
On my side ain't nothing but thugs baby
Throw yo hood up if you representin'

Tity-Boi, Southside, bad limp, fo' 5's on the hip
Don't know why I'm known to slip when I get high
One time but no more, won't sleep until the morg
Somebody need to take the trash out and I'ma do the chores
Softer than a cactus, put it on like actors
Hustle in the shadows on the bricks and they couldn't catch us
Gat still tucked, in my waist by my price time
'Cuz my chain hang so low my charm bang wit my pipe line

Walk around, all day wit this beam like it's night time
You can see 'em a mile away, but it'll touch ya from blind side
Flipped it, first to finsih to the car, that's a nice ride
Dig it, they spin they puchase round here they get kite high
Deal it, it's my description, my picture, my composure plot
This is how I get through 2 d's, niggaz
My side we ride my crew's, iller, iller

Throw yo hood up if you representin'
(Northside, Westside, Southside, Eastside)
On my side ain't nothing but hustlas baby
Throw yo hood up if you representin'
(Westside, Northside, Eastside, Southside)
On my side ain't nothing but gangstas baby
Throw yo hood up if you representin'
(Northside, Eastside, Southside, Westside)
On my side ain't nothing but playas baby
Throw yo hood up if you representin'
(Eastside, Southside, Westside)
On my side ain't nothing but thugs baby
Throw yo hood up if you representin'

Who done bust through the vapon yeah I'm hopin' to fight
Start a brawl, I'll shut that bitch down on openin' night
Let's fate, pull the bitches titties start on them dipes
'Cause we leavin' wit some hoes and yeah we startin' wit dykes
Bet a thousand, shoot a thousand if you holdin' that bank
I got the game on lock, you barely a holdin' tank
Get drunk, get to shootin bust the whole club out
Us thugs out, I'm tryin' to dumb out, 'til I get drunk out

That's just the way I am, don't look down on me
My gun's a open bar, free rounds on me
And I'm an eastside nigga so I ain't no punk
I make the crowd get it crunk and do the eastside stomp
Young Chingy let 'em know, that the deal is a fool
And I'm a carpenter's dream, I'm in love wit the tools
Lay low when the heat bust, off in the air
DTP, Cris Squad and we runnin' this here, it go

(Northside, Westside, Southside, Eastside)
On my side ain't nothing but hustlas baby
Throw yo hood up if you representin'
(Westside, Northside, Eastside, Southside)
On my side ain't nothing but gangstas baby
Throw yo hood up if you representin'
(Northside, Eastside, Southside, Westside)
On my side ain't nothing but playas baby
Throw yo hood up if you representin'
(Eastside, Southside, Westside)
On my side ain't nothing but thugs baby
Throw yo hood up if you representin'

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dbdca0fb456f3182e5617287bd31f005

All My Life - Lyrics - Freeway

Title: All My Life
Artist: Freeway
Composer(s): Curtis Mayfield, Nathaniel Hale, Leslie Pridgen, Roosevelt Harrell, Ben Krass

Lyric:
Jeah, uh
Real niggas stand up, uh
Whoo
Jeah, uh, uh, yo

From Cali to Philly, Philly to Cali
I deliver the order, haulin' a milli
Y'all niggas silly, I really don't want no problems
It's North Philly hot, really hot

Duck cops, send shots at idiots, really I
Got the mack milli I wet your squadron up
Oh, he don't feel me y'all
Nate go get the gats, we shootin' up they videos

Really y'all, ain't makin' a dollar
When my shit drop, it's the Roc, holler
Shoot you from toe to collar, watch you holler, pop my collar
Holler, bink controllin' the track

Free and Nate controllin' the flow, y'all cats need to fall back
Holler, at your boy if you wanna get rich
I got a town and they want it tonight, you got pounds
Well they one of the Knicks, cross Free better be strapped
The rest of your life

All my life I'm, I'm gonna be
Lovin' dough, chasin' hoes, smokin' 'dro, yeah yeah yeah
All my days I'm, I'm gonna be
Ridin' strapped, back and forth, east to west, watch your back

And I'm going going back back
To Cali Cali, is we strapped? Yes
Private jet, gat in the vest, Heckler and Koch
Hit Nate soon as I land, hop in the van

Everything calm and cool, gat by the croch
Travel with the tool, it's just a part the plans
And I'm from the East side, that's how we ride
I let Mister Sig Sawyer sing a song to your man

Yeah, it's the worlds most dangerous
Clique, the Roc, we get neck in Los Angeles
Chicks scandalous, it's just a part of the plans
I smash, photograph it, send 'em home to they man

At last, I'm more than a rap star, she bit off
More than she can chew, she's one of the fans
She said she know how we do, I swallow your crew
Break a playa off then then get a job for his man, yeah

All my life I'm, I'm gonna be
Lovin' dough, chasin' hoes, smokin' 'dro, yeah yeah yeah
All my days I'm, I'm gonna be
Ridin' strapped, back and forth, east to west, watch your back

Tell Philly Phil Free comin' to town
And we can blaze thirty L's once I get off the plane
And go shoot past Roscoe's for chicken and waffles
You act tough, hollows will stop at your mainframe

Hit up your main man, stick to the game plan
Your main man chick wanna come home with me like Cam
Get done with her, pass her to Cam
If I wanna squirt her, take her to Fat burger

Spit murder, cross the clique, get murdered
Out in Cali wearin' any color, State Prop, stick to my brand
It ain't nothin' but crooks in here
(Whoop, whoop)
Freewizzle, big Nate Dizzle

(Whoop, whoop)
Get took straight from the club to the spittle
For shizzle, y'all gon' have to call the cops in here
And Nate from the West side, that's how they ride
Shots in your backside, never bust in the air, yeah

All my life I'm, I'm gonna be
Lovin' dough, chasin' hoes, smokin' 'dro, yeah yeah yeah
All my days I'm, I'm gonna be
Ridin' strapped, back and forth, east to west, watch your back

All my life I'm, I'm gonna be
Lovin' dough, chasin' hoes, smokin' 'dro, yeah yeah yeah
All my days I'm, I'm gonna be
Ridin' strapped, back and forth, east to west, watch your back

Whoo
Uh, holla
State Prop Chain Gang
Y'all niggas know what it is

Whoo
Back and forth, east to west
Whoo
Freeway is in the house, is in the house, uh

Young Gunnas in the building, holla
Y'all bitch ass niggas
Put your mouth on a pistol, nigga
Put your mouth on a motherfuckin' pistol, holla

Matter of fact, spray nigga
Jeah
Jeah, it's the Roc
Uh

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3bde8ce237cc7d20b816afe5b62e4c22

The Peckin' Order - Lyrics - War & Peace Vol. 1: The War Disc - Ice Cube

Title: The Peckin' Order
Album: War & Peace Vol. 1: The War Disc
Artist: Ice Cube
Composer(s): M Masser, Marlin Carls Demby, O'Shea Jackson, Timothy Titus Walker, G Goffin

Lyric:
In the deep and dark bowels of the underworld
Order must be maintained
Without a strict and unforgiving chain of command
Chaos is inevitable

Whassup youngsta?
Since you the new booty, and don't know nothin'
I got to show you bout the peckin' order
It's the order in how we do things and move things

See, somebody gon' tell you what to do
After I tell that motherfucker what to do
It's the peckin' order
It's the peckin' order

We got the power to make you niggaz sour
Big fish whale like Ichikowa, steppin' out the shower
It's the peckin' order, ask ya daughter how we peck
Inspect, high class ass to projects

Push my Lex through the California rain, gutter lane
Infamous schemes on the brain
For my connect gang, put a strain on every link
In our chain, that's right, we all get arraigned

Takin' sworn notes to makin' c-notes
Knowin' all the while that bullshit floats and niggaz don't
So nigga don't, gangsta paradise ain't nuttin' nice
Yeah we livin' so trife we need Jesus in our life

It's the peckin' order
It's the order, how we do things
And move things
Only fuck with the true things

Havin' heavy intercourse with the world of depression
Messin' with the wrong bitches never learn our lesson
Stressin', no guessin', never question
Even when we playin', we testin', confession

Do you still wanna meet where the killers eat?
Held accountable for anythang you repeat
It's the peckin' order, ask your daughter how we peck
When we smoke you, it's your best friend you suspect

It's the peckin' order
It's the order, how we do things
And move things
Only fuck with the true things

Now c'mon, come on potnah, c'mon
(It's the peckin' order)
Fuck that, I don't wanna hear none of that shit man
All that cryin' and beggin' and shit

To be honest wit you that shit really don't even
Affect me in no kind of way potnah
You wastin' your muthafuckin' time
(It's the peckin' order)

Let's get this shit goin', let's get it over with
C'mon back here, back here
I can't make no motherfuckin' mess right here
Check this out homie, make it easy on yourself

I know you want a motherfuckin' open casket
Where your peoples can see you and kiss on you
But you gon' piss me off
And I'ma blow noodles out your motherfuckin' head

And ain't none of that happenin' after that
So, c'mon back here, c'mon, right, c'mon, ay
But you know
One more thing before I do this

It's the peckin' order
It's the peckin' order
It's the peckin' order

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18c2fe7b6b846278fc449beac99e6e74

You Must Be Out Of Your Fuckin' Mind - Lyrics - Fat Joe

Title: You Must Be Out Of Your Fuckin' Mind
Artist: Fat Joe
Composer(s): Joseph Cartagena, Joseph Kirkland

Lyric:
"You must be out your fucking mind, man"
"I'm gonna kick your ass"
"Hey you, come here"

"You must be out your fucking mind, man"
"I'm gonna kick your ass"
"Hey you, come here"

"You must be out your fucking mind, man"
"I'm gonna kick your ass"
"Hey you, come here"

Aw shit, it's time to get
(Dum dum)
If you took what you got, lick a shot
(Pump pump)
When the dough is low, we go
(Stick up, stick up)
You get knocked on the block, we say
(Big up, big up)

Check the misfit, time to rip shit
Time to get with the nitwit lyrical lunatic
In the street I stay strong 'cause I'm armed with a nine
What's up nig? You must be out of your fucking mind

I'm much more than you expect, kid
To identify your ass they'll have to use your fucking dental records
So step up, come come, don't be bashful
I got a steel toe and you can get an assful

'Cause if it's me you think you're better than
You'll need a sniffly, sneezy, coughing
Stuffy head, get your ass with medicine
You can feel, shit is real, my mind can set me free
So I can continue my MC killing spree

The police, they try to keep me in the clink, yo
I got 'em ducking and bucking, so I don't think so
I bust your whole shit if you're not kind
Stomping comp? You must be out of your fucking mind

"You must be out your fucking mind, man"
"I'm a kick your ass"
"Hey you, come here"

"You must be out your fucking mind, man"
"I'm a kick your ass"
"Hey you, come here"

Chitty chitty bang bang, I'm coming like a chain gang
From outta sang sang to make your motherfucking brains hang
Try to diss this, then you'll enlist for the stiffs
Snatch your bitch up at Crystal and then I fuck her with a pistol

A nigga with heart, walk through a park in the dark
Fuck the drug marks stomping me, I'll play your fucking heart, so be smart
Cut all that bullshit and clown, I'll be the only nigga laying down
When everybody else is sitting

So who's the next man to hit? I slip in a banana clip
And I hit, come and get your bandanna split
Shit, fuck, bitch who's the snitch?
You may be down with Mikey and Ikey, but you're laying in a fucking ditch

With motherfucking maggots with the rest of them faggots
'Cause your license to kill was from Tagget's
I warned a brother of another brother's glock
And I said "What's up, duck?" And I had my motherfucking gun cocked

So be a sport, another lesson drug
Holding down the fort and a stupid-ass nigga got caught
So he made prime time cause I had the nine
Yeah, you must be out of your fucking mind

"You must be out your fucking mind, man"
"I'm a kick your ass"
"Hey you, come here"

"You must be out your fucking mind, man"
"I'm a kick your ass"
"Hey you, come here"

Sucker back up, a real motherfucker's on stage
I shoot the gift like a motherfucking 12 gauge
Niggas know I'm versatile
No question I'm buckwild, I'm killing rappers executioner style

Hanging motherfuckers with a mic cord
I'm a rap lord, suckers always get me bored
Saying that they that and this
Ayo they get me pissed, 'cause motherfuckers ain't jack shit

I'm here to represent the Boogie Down
Making niggas leave town before sundown
And if you don't listen, G
I'll stick a knife up your ass like "American me"

I'm serving motherfuckers like Wimbledon
I shock a crowd like a bottle of insulin
And niggas always get me vexed
I'm tired of motherfuckers trying to sound like Das Efx

You'd better hold your own, child
'Cause I'm laying suckers like rugs and tiles
This is the bigger nigger with the mad lines
You step to me? You must be out of your fucking mind!

"You must be out your fucking mind, man"
"I'm a kick your ass"
"Hey you, come here"

"You must be out your fucking mind, man"
"I'm a kick your ass"
"Hey you, come here"

Yeah, now you motherfuckers know the flav, East Coast style
Fat Joe, G. Rap, and Apache
You step to us, you must be out of your fucking mind

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de0f26fde23ab154151cd1c5e6e8901a

Exquisite - Lyrics - Mcgruff

Title: Exquisite
Artist: Mcgruff
Composer(s): Tyrone Fyffe

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Lyric:
Rock mics, hold my diz-ick, flow exquisite
Pop niggas then I throw the biscuit
Get some dro and twist it, when from Mo' to Cryst shit
Still gettin' that dough, on the striz-ip, on the coke tiz-up

They call me Gruffie, Crime Hound, used to be a Pound Puppy
You should see the way I down bubbly
Every dame in the town love me, stay dip
Cardiere flame shit, Polo brown rugby

Moves too swift to let ya clowns touch me
Smokin' like a doo-doo Dutchie and you get found musty
Bust his here, man, yo' cats just infer
It's been a while now, I must appear, yo' ass out

You fuckin' with the 'cause of this, who liver than this
Dive on yo' wrist, take yo' rollie, try to resist
Now I'm in the club shakin' with some pie and some Cryst
And that shit you be makin', ain't hotter than this

You know how them thug cats do
McGruff style hard wit that Harlem crew
Gettin' bent everyday, all day
The club see sick, it's that Harlem way, exquisite

You know how them thug cats do
McGruff style hard wit that Harlem crew
Gettin' bent everyday, all day
The club see sick, it's that Harlem way, exquisite

Yo, yo, my name rings, champagne king, chain danglin'
Harlem World to England, make world tour moves
Up in hotels, girls all nude, who want get screwed
Big boobs, wantin' to get with the dudes, sippin' Cryst with the cube

Lookin' slick on the tube, yo, these bitches got my dick in the mood
Flushed out, my mind, room service picked us some food
We in the rich cart and got baby girl clit fartin'
Newly ro', day your dick cartin', six squadron

Forty D, front row seats, Knicks at the Garden
We players, six hundred Benzes, navigators
Snatchin' papers, overseas, under grass and acres
When it catch in Vegas, bastards hate us

Fly first class wit gators, flash the latest
My ass stay switch ya ass to neighbors
Diamond rings from stings
Still spendin' cash on more capers

You know how them thug cats do
McGruff style hard wit that Harlem crew
Gettin' bent everyday, all day
The club see sick, it's that Harlem way, exquisite

You know how them thug cats do
McGruff style hard wit that Harlem crew
Gettin' bent everyday, all day
The club see sick, it's that Harlem way, exquisite

I drop hot rhymes, take yo' Hot 97 slot time
I shine like an archive, her thirty night dime
V-12, six hundred gas, put my Nike on
Put a mic on, put it piked on

Strong arm like Nam, Desert Storm never fight calm
Roll fifth, shook my right arm, pearl white palm
Murder your life form, make more noise than a night storm
Heavy artillery, hand grenades and pipe bomb

Light Tron, then there's no tellin' who I might harm
Top wall, street businessman, in they white bond
It's like on, bullet holes, buck 50 life long
Fight strong, Don Juan, ill trife con

Write hype shit, my gang can make a dike like dick
And my crew bigger than yo' crew twice as thick
Niggas be lookin' for some mic's to stick, nights to slick
And pikin' dick and all the bad righteous chicks

My niggas light toke, you like them flicks
Tenure conversely, all types of kicks
My man L got 25 to life, told me life's a bitch
Said, "Hold yo' head, Gruff, son and write them hits"

You know how them thug cats do
McGruff style hard wit that Harlem crew
Gettin' bent everyday, all day
The club see sick, it's that Harlem way, exquisite

You know how them thug cats do
McGruff style hard wit that Harlem crew
Gettin' bent everyday, all day
The club see sick, it's that Harlem way, exquisite

You know how them thug cats do
McGruff style hard wit that Harlem crew
Gettin' bent everyday, all day
The club see sick, it's that Harlem way, exquisite

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