Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Now They Call It Swing. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Now They Call It Swing. Sort by date Show all posts

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Now They Call It Swing - Lyrics - Billie Holiday

Title: Now They Call It Swing
Artist: Billie Holiday
Composer(s): Lou Handman, Vaughn Deleath, Norman Cloutier, Walter Hirsch

Lyric:
Once they called it ragtime
And it had its fling
It's the same old syncopation
Now they call it swing

Then they played it jazz time
To a buck and wing
Once again it sweep the nation
Now they call it swing

When singers used to sing
They would go hot cha
But with this modern thing
Now they go dru, du du, dra, da da

Rhythm has its seasons
Summer, fall and spring
But for seven silly reasons
Someone pulled the string
And they started dancing
Now they call it swing

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0b43da7be33f7431c8c0f81a7b1368c5

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Get It Poppin - Lyrics - All or Nothing - Fat Joe

Title: Get It Poppin
Album: All or Nothing
Artist: Fat Joe
Composer(s): Andre Lyon, Joseph Cartagena, Scott Storch

Lyric:
Crack, yeah, Scott Storch y'all
Dirty, Crack, c'mon

It's two up in the mornin' girl
And the DJ playin' that song
Now what'chu gon' do?
(Gonna get get get it poppin' boy)
Now what'chu gon' do?
(Gonna get get get it poppin')

I said, it's two up in the mornin' girl
And the DJ playin' that song
Now what'chu gon' do?
(Gonna get get get it poppin' boy)
Now what'chu gon' do?
(Gonna get get get it poppin')

I got that black no limit American Express card
Mami you can get whatever you like
Plus I got that all-black Phantom, it's tinted on four sides
Go 'head kiss it, they can't see us inside

Mami tell me do you like it, I know you like it
It's written all over your face don't fight it
You like it, more than I like it
So put it all over your face don't bite it

From rags to riches, club packed with bitches
Had to bag them digits, her head game was vicious
And we can get it poppin' in the bathroom
Don't be selfish ma, go ahead and pass it to him

Then we can all fuck
It's like a million on my neck, got all of these bitches all awestruck
We pissy drunk off of Seraphim
I'm up in V.I.P. and these bitches are screamin', let me in

It's two up in the mornin' girl
And the DJ playin' that song
Now what'chu gon' do?
(Gonna get get get it poppin' boy)
Now what'chu gon' do?
(Gonna get get get it poppin')

It's two up in the mornin' now
And I'm tryin' to go home wit'chu
Now what'chu gon' do?
(Gonna get get get it poppin' boy)
Now what'chu gon' do?
(Gonna get get get it poppin')

Get it poppin', go 'head and drop it
It's written all over your face, don't stop it
Just drop it, more like it's hot miss
Kick in the do' with the fo-fo messin' with Joe

Now this chick got an ass so fat in fact I
Put a drink on it and I came right back
She would never talk to a lame like that
In my ear screamin', how you got a name like Crack

Crack, similar to Mike Jones
Say my name enough, then I'm takin' you home
You know I walk with I talk with
I sleep with the chrome, one squeeze and you're gone

What I look like, not takin' at least
Three to six women out the club with me
Now we back to the fuck pad, call it the fuck pad
'Cause all these bitches fuckin' with me, talk to 'em dirty

It's two up in the mornin' girl
And the DJ playin' that song
Now what'chu gon' do?
(Gonna get get get it poppin' boy)
Now what'chu gon' do?
(Gonna get get get it poppin')

Well it's two up in the mornin' and
Them niggaz try'n hate on your crew
Nigga, what'chu gon' do?
(I'ma get get get it poppin' boy)
Yeah, what'chu gon' do?
(I'ma get get get it poppin')

Now when them doors swing open with that awkward motion
What'chu call it, suicide, it's a suicide
And if them niggaz talk shit 'cause they drunk off that potion
They commitin', suicide, it's a suicide

Let's get it poppin' my niggaz, cook, yo
I got a shotty my niggaz, oh, Lord
I feel sorry for your mudda fucker, give a fuck what you say
Spin your head back, promote you on a videotape

It's two up in the mornin' girl
And the DJ playin' that song
Now what'chu gon' do?
(I'ma get get get it poppin')
Now what'chu gon' do?
(I'ma get get get it poppin')

It's four up in the mornin' now
And I'm tryin' to go home wit'chu
Girl, what'chu gon' do?
(I'ma get get get it poppin')
What'chu gon' do?
(I'ma get get get it poppin')

C'mon, yeah, it's Crack, what'chu gon' do?
Cafe [Incomprehensible], all my people in there partyin'
All the party people across the world
Ladies, "Things of that Nature"

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80c3f96007cd123433a5ec917cd2b4a4

Monday, August 2, 2010

Change Up - Lyrics - From Nothin' to Somethin' - Fabolous

Title: Change Up
Album: From Nothin' to Somethin'
Artist: Fabolous
Composer(s): John David Jackson, Aliaune Thiam

Lyric:
Konvict, Konvict
We never change over here
Street Fam, Konvict

If I?m your man and you?re my man
You ain?t gotta worry 'bout where we stand
But you cross the man, you force my hand
And changin' who I am ain?t part of my plan
'Cuz I will not change up, no
Said, I will not change up, no

Now I don?t know if I should hug 'em or slug 'em now
And I don?t know if I should cap 'em or dap 'em now
But I know that it?s feelin' funny now
Maybe it?s 'cuz I?m gettin' this money now

You see, things ain?t the same
I said, things ain?t the same
No, things ain?t the same
And I know I ain?t changed

Yo, I make the money but don?t let it make me
So even if I go broke, nigga, you couldn?t break me
Watch how long it take me to jump back on my feet
Quick as when the barrells jump back on the heat

Y'all don?t wanna see me jump back in the streets
So be happy that I ride through slumped back in the seats
Bein? broke is a joke, I never found it funny
That?s why I count my blessings as much as I count my money

If I?m your man and you?re my man
You ain?t gotta worry 'bout where we stand
But you cross the man, you force my hand
And changin' who I am ain?t part of my plan
'Cuz I will not change up, no
I said, I will not change up, no

Some niggas change when they get change
Funny when they get money
Switch when they get rich, stray when they got paid
Hah, but I stresses you to holla
'Cuz they never made bullet proof vesses outta dollars

We never change, this is us every day
I call them boys up, they gon' bust every day
They ride high like them Cus' Chevrolets
Like old wax and Kane lookin' for his cousin killas

I got a dozen killas for niggas who doesn?t feel us
I changed for a reason but homie, it wasn?t scrilla
They can?t say that nothing change but my clothes
Oh, I?m lyin', I do change up my hoes

I pitch game, you should see the change up I throws
Ain?t gotta get 'em to ring to get 'em to swing
I?m a team player, if I win, then we won
They gon' put us all in the Hall of Fame when we done

If I?m your man and you?re my man
You ain?t gotta worry 'bout where we stand
But you cross the man, you force my hand
And changin' who I am ain?t part of my plan
'Cuz I will not change up, no
Said, I will not change up, no

Now I don?t know if I should hug 'em or slug 'em now
And I don?t know if I should cap 'em or dap 'em now
But I know that it?s feelin' funny now
Maybe it?s 'cuz I?m gettin' this money now

You see, things ain?t the same
I said, things ain?t the same
No, things ain?t the same
And I know I ain?t changed

Money can?t buy happiness but it?s a damn good down payment
I don?t talk much, feel like I?m around agents
The game ain?t what it used to be
I?m the same but these lames ain?t used to me

Them other niggas be full of they selves
Get money and disappear, try to pull a Chappelle
Well, I ain?t hidin', I?m ridin', I ain?t duckin', I?m buckin'
I ain?t hangin', I?m bangin', I ain?t runnin', I?m gunnin'

If I?m your man and you?re man
You ain?t gotta worry 'bout where we stand
But you cross the man, you force my hand
And changin' who I am ain?t part of my plan
'Cuz I will not change up, no
I said, I will not change up, no

Now I don?t know if I should hug 'em or slug em now
And I don?t know if I should cap 'em or dap 'em now
But I know that it?s feelin' funny now
Maybe it?s 'cuz I?m gettin' this money now

You see, things ain?t the same
I said, things ain?t the same
No, things ain?t the same
And I know I ain?t changed

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85bc1d21415f2def408672bf0be4b4ba

Friday, August 20, 2010

Let Me Ride - Lyrics - The Chronic - Dr. Dre

Title: Let Me Ride
Album: The Chronic
Artist: Dr. Dre
Composer(s): Willie Beck, Marshall Jones, Bernhard G Worrell, George Jr Clinton, Bootsy Collins, Eric Collins, Leroy Bonner, William Roberts, James L. Williams, Cordozar Broadus, Marvin Pierce, Clarence Satchell, Maurice Young, Ralph Middlebrooks

Lyric:
Creepin' down the back street on Deez
I got my glock cocked 'cause niggas want these
Now soon as I said it, seems I got sweated
By some nigga with a tech 9 tryin' to take mine
Ya wanna make noise, make noise
I make a phone call my niggas comin' like the Gotti boys
Bodies bein' found on Greenleaf
With their fuckin heads cut off, motherfucker I'm Dre
So listen to the play-by-play, day-by-day
Rollin' in my '4 with 16 switches
And got sounds for the bitches, clockin' all the riches
Got the hollow points for the snitches
So would you just walk on by, 'cause I'm too hard to lift
And no this ain't Aerosmith
It's the motherfuckin D-R-E, from the CPT
On a ryhmin' spree, a straight G
Hop back as I pop my top ya trip
I let the hollow points commence to POP POP POP
Yeah, 'cause if it don't stop
I have to put my shit in reverse go back and take anothers stop
Cause I'm (Rollin in my six-fo')
With all the niggas sayin

Swing down, sweet chariot stop and, let me ride
Hell yeah
Swing down, sweet chariot stop and, let me ride
With all the niggaz sayin
Swing down, sweet chariot stop and, let me ride
Hell yeah
Swing down, sweet chariot stop and, let me ride

Just another motherfuckin day for Dre so I begin like this
No medallions, dreadlocks, or black fists it's just
That gangster glare, with gangster raps
That gangster shit, that makes the gang of snaps, uhh
Word to the motherfuckin streets
And word to these hyped ass lyrics and dope beats, that I
Hit ya with that I, get ya with
As I groove in my four on deez, hittin the switches
Bitches relax while I get my proper swerve on
Bumpin like a motherfucker ready to get my serve on
But before I hit the dope spot
I gotta get the chronic, the Reme Martin and my soda pop
Now I'm smellin like indo-nesia
Bus stop full of fly bitches and skeezers
On my dick, cause my four on hit
Pancake front and back, side to side and all that shit
So when I crawl I comes correct
Now, if your bitch in my shit, it's your bitch you check nigga
Now let the Chevrolet slide
As I dip a nigga trip to the south side, yeah
(Rollin in my six-fo') with all the bitches sayin

Swing down, sweet chariot stop and, let me ride
Hell yeah
Swing down, sweet chariot stop and, let me ride
With all the niggaz sayin
Swing down, sweet chariot stop and, let me ride
Hell yeah
Swing down, sweet chariot stop and, let me ride

Check this out
The sun went down when I hit Slausson
On my way to the strip, now I'm just flossin
Checkin my rearview, cause niggas they will do
Jack moves, black fools cause I smack fools
Try to set me up for a two-eleven
Fuck around and get caught up in a one-eight-seven
But I don't represent no gangbang
Some niggas like lynchin but I just watch them hang
So on, and so-on, why don't you let me roll on
I remember back in the dayz when I used to have to get my stroll on
Didn't nobody wanna speaknow everybody
Peepin out they windows when they hear me beatin up the streets
Is it Dre? Is it Dre?
That's what they say, every single motherfuckin day, yo
But I ain't trippin I'm just kickin it
While my deez keep spinnin and these hoes keep grinnin I'll be
(Rollin in my six-fo') With everybody sayin

Swing down, sweet chariot stop and, let me ride
Hell yeah
Swing down, sweet chariot stop and, let me ride
With all the niggaz sayin
Swing down, sweet chariot stop and, let me ride
Hell yeah
Swing down, sweet chariot stop and, let me ride

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cbfaec7027ee371e7fd88fdd030aa10f

It'S On - Lyrics - It's on (Dr. Dre) 187um Killa - Eazy E

Title: It'S On
Album: It's on (Dr. Dre) 187um Killa
Artist: Eazy E
Composer(s): George Clinton, David Weldon, Steve Arrington, William Earl Collins, Marshall E Jones, Leroy Bonner, Waung Hankerson, Roger Parker, Charles Cedell Carter, Walter Morrison, Andrew Noland, Lorenzo Patterson, Marvin Pierce, Garry Shider, David L Spradley, Gregory Webster, Ralph Middlebrooks, Norman Napier, Bernard G Worrell, Eric Wright

Lyric:
Todays a good day to die
Bow wow wow, yippie yo, yeppie yeah
Suck on these nuts nigga suck on these nuts
I tell 'em bow wow wow, yippie yo, yeppie yeah
Suck on these nuts nigga suck on these nuts

Ain't nuthin' but Eazy baby
He'll smoke two niggas 'cuz they crazy
Talk a gang of shit but it don't phase me
That punk nigga Dre still pays me

Well, if it's on motherfucker then it's on G
Now if it's on motherfucker than its on G
Hey mister, prankster prankster
Story book gangster

Back in 86' you wore pumps and mascara
Down did the motherfuckin' wreckin' crew bid
But once a bitch always a bitch
And now the fuckin switch

Fag with a stethoscope now you sag
Body slamming bitches makes Dre a bigger man
Cackies sportin' loc's in a g ride
What set you from Loc what set you from ride?

Rip van winkle sleepin' nigga woke up and became a G
But you still don't impress tha e-z
Smoke a little Sherm now you call that shit the chronic
Niggas on the west side call it bionic
I make a mill here make a mill there
Fuck a bitch here fuck a bitch there, yeah

Tell ya motherfuckers who your fuckin' with
Well, if it's on motherfucker then it's on
Tell ya motherfuckers who your fuckin' with
Well, if it's on motherfucker then it's on

Old nigga Eazy-E went to the cupboard
To get Snoop Doggy dogg a bone motherfucker
Here's another G or should I say a H, a I, a J, a K, a L M N O P
P for the pussy wussy wuffin' nigga broke
As a motherfuckin' joke

Talkin' about you want to smoke tha E to tha A Z Y
Nigga this east side Snoop Doggy Doggy Dogg you wanna try
187 on the e that ya sing
But you cling on my balls when I swing my ding-a-ling
Yeah, you got more just like a pint of puppy water

First I'm gonna choke ya then I smoke ya
Then I'm gonna toss ya in the back of my trunk
With the other punk smoking death row like I smoke a Phillie blunt
Well, if it's on motherfucker than its on G
If it's on motherfucker than it's on G

Tell ya motherfuckers who your fuckin' with
Well, if it's on motherfucker then it's on
Tell ya motherfuckers who your fuckin' with
Well, if it's on motherfucker then it's on

Still a nigga, once a nigga always a nigga
Down from the get go never let go
Never flossin', never slippin', never trippin'
Stickin' dick and my balls down your throat doggy listen

Niggaz from the lbc they never heard of ya G
And niggas from the CPT ain't down with DRE
But ya gave it up, still like a trooper
Let 'em play ya jam shake ya hand and then they shoot ya

You can fool the people on the east coast an the mid-west
But in L.A. you still cant pass the test see I can tell a pussy
When I see one Dre wearing lip stick that mean ya have to be one
You need to change your sex and your occupation

You try to fuck with e nigga run run run
'Cause if it's on motherfucker then its on G
Now if it's on motherfucker then its on G

Tell ya motherfuckers who your fuckin' with
Well, if it's on motherfucker then it's on
Tell ya motherfuckers who your fuckin' with
Well, if it's on motherfucker then it's on

Tell ya motherfuckers who your fuckin' with
Well, if it's on motherfucker then it's on
Tell ya motherfuckers who your fuckin' with
Well, if it's on motherfucker then it's on

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d69710452aaa1410506bc747ce3b9f58

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Candy Paint - Lyrics - Strength and Loyalty - Bone Thugs N Harmony

Title: Candy Paint
Album: Strength and Loyalty
Artist: Bone Thugs N Harmony
Composer(s): Steven Howse, Charles Scruggs, Kasseem Dean, Anthony Henderson

Lyric:
Woo, yeah, yeah
Excuse me, is that candy paint?
Them Bone Boys is back
Cleveland, the Full Surface

Keep rollin', rollin', rollin'
Hey, keep rollin', rollin', rollin'
Hey, keep rollin', rollin', rollin'
Hey, keep rollin', rollin', rollin'
What you say now?

I love you
My Impala sittin' on them two fours
I love you
My Cutlass with them suicide doors

Move out my way, move out
*** move out my way, move out my way
Wait a minute now, hold a second now
Wait a minute now, ride on 'em, ride on 'em

Here come grandaddy always classin', ain't no *** badda than that
They know I'm gangsta, 20k 4's on my black Cadillac
And as a matter of fact, flipped it and dipped it in some candy paint
Suckas get mad 'cause they can't bang

Your boy, Lil' Layzie comin' through all in that black Monte Carlo
I'm swtichin' lanes, givin' lanes like it ain't no tomorrow
I'ma tryna get around cars with no regards for this traffic
Look how I yank it, yeah, I yank it makin' it look like it's magic

If you see that dash drop ya know what to do
Ya know what to do, ya know what to do
We was fittin' to roll not gon' let me roll, I've got it, now we don't
Watchin' for them po-po's mashin' down that 71

I love you
My Impala sittin' on them two fours
I love you
My Cutlass with them suicide doors

Move out my way, move out
*** move out my way, move out my way
Wait a minute now, hold a second now
Wait a minute now, ride on 'em, ride on 'em

Stomp it, bash it with my 350 rocket, Cutlass
White on white, it's tight from bumper to bumper, can't touch this
For a little more juice, I supercharged it
Yeah, his ride's tight but ain't tight like mine
'Cause we workin' on different [Incomprehensible]

I swing my doors open
My *** out in Cleveland swing them doors open
Big bumps, big bumps, big trunks
Try to let off, take it to the other side
Let's get high, pimpin' while I'm deep into my vibe, roll by

I'ma come with the cleanest
I ain't gon' be seen with these *** don't know who the team is
I love that I breath with Swizz and Bone *** that's who we is
Whatever the purpose, it's Full Surface, what chu call architects
Too hard to check and if you don't move we startin' ***

I love you
My Impala sittin' on them two fours
I love you
My Cutlass with them suicide doors

Move out my way, move out
*** move out my way, move out my way
Wait a minute now, hold a second now
Wait a minute now, ride on 'em, ride on 'em

Gotta have it *** my weapon is automatic ***
*** stepped his game up when he came up
Should have thought about it
'Cause these 24 inches spinnin'
Is usually good for makin' they heads twirl
Just try to be *** when I journey this world

Switchin' lanes, pimpin', switchin' lanes, pimpin'
Switchin' lanes, pimpin', switchin' lanes
We rollin' through your hood like Bone Thug
And I doubt if we ever need a gang bang it's because

I love you
My Impala sittin' on them two fours
I love you
My Cutlass with them suicide doors

Move out my way, move out
*** move out my way, move out my way
Wait a minute now, hold a second now
Wait a minute now, ride on 'em, ride on 'em

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7db14fbfdac4d06e71de2052e1137c47

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Kwon - Get Xxx'D - Lyrics - J

Title: Kwon - Get Xxx'D
Artist: J
Composer(s): Joe A (Track Boyz) Kent, Jerrell C Jones, Mark A (Track Williams, Moses Iii Barrett, Ebony Williams

Lyric:
Trek boys, you heard the name
J-Kwon, you ain't seen me in a minute
Petey Pablo, we're gettin' XXX'd man
Ebony Eyes, y'all ready?

I'ma run while gettin' front
It's 'cuz you?re gettin' none
Here the cop, they hit a nun
It's all with a gun

What is done is what is done
It's all for the fun
Somebody said cut off they head
It's already done

Now I'm clap wit mini straps including mini matched
Wit a bat, my clips on, I'm bangin' wit that
Where it's at what it's at, don't worry ?bout that
You?re a soldier, where a soldier relate to that

Now I'm marching down the ally, in a rally
Some meany motherfuckers they try, we need a tally
Now we, put it in mind and then we outty
Rowdy, they step on a bomb, the bomb outty

Doubt me, I start to shoot up your Denali
Try Kwon, here give a bomb to your family
Met your family in a start that you can't see
But yo I'm gon' do it anyway

We can take it thurr
(We can take it thurr)
We can handle that
(We can handle that)
We can take it thurr
(We can take it thurr)
We can handle that
(We can handle that)

We can take it thurr
(We can take it thurr)
We can handle that
(We can handle that)
We can take it thurr
(We can take it thurr)
We can handle that
(We can handle that)

West Coast
(Get XXX'd)
East Coast
(Get XXX'd)
Midwest
(Get XXX'd)
Down South
(Get XXX'd)

West Coast
(Get XXX'd)
East Coast
(Get XXX'd)
Midwest
(Get XXX'd)
Down South
(Get XXX'd)

Come take a ride as we roll to the ghetto
But keep your feet on the pedal
'Cuz it could get pretty extreme in the ghetto

Triple X level, no holds barred
We got hood cap and lieutenants, and project sergeants
Capable of pullin' your car, bombin' your car
Grenades through your window, this is all our war

Take the main road here where we go, every time we roll
Family transportin', guns stashed in truck flow
Real talk dog, I hit real hard
One swing knock a motherfucker block, slam off
(Slam off)

Hit him in the part where he talk from
Naggin' back to momma 'cuz the wires in his jaw
Make it hard for him to tell you something
(Tell you something)
It's sunny now but the storm comin'

Best thing for you to do is try to get prepared for it
(For it)
Find 'em bread, water, milk, couple cans of soup
And a place to go just in case you have to move

We can take it thurr
(We can take it thurr)
We can handle that
(We can handle that)
We can take it thurr
(We can take it thurr)
We can handle that
(We can handle that)

We can take it thurr
(We can take it thurr)
We can handle that
(We can handle that)
We can take it thurr
(We can take it thurr)
We can handle that
(We can handle that)

West Coast
(Get XXX'd)
East Coast
(Get XXX'd)
Midwest
(Get XXX'd)
Down South
(Get XXX'd)

West Coast
(Get XXX'd)
East Coast
(Get XXX'd)
Midwest
(Get XXX'd)
Down South
(Get XXX'd)

Finally, when it comes to the tools
I'm not forgiving the blues
I'll knock another man clean out his shoes
We get the breakin' the rules
Let's get the takin' his jewels
Sit still, trippin', turn his ass into dog food

Who's got he static?
(Huh)
Better bring the plastic
(Uh)
Better automatic
(Punk)
And let him have it
(Chump)

I'm a savage
(What?)
Let me show you magic
(Bra)

Wish I had this and turn your ass sawdust
Partner we lawless, I'm talkin' all us
When it come to handlin' business, durty we flawless
See these revolvers, that?s why they call us
The same reason the police never ain't caught us

I'm on another level
Words from a true rebel
I rock your ass and I ain't talking heavy metal
You?re just a punk and me I'm durt devil
Let's see what's left as soon the the smoke settle

We can take it thurr
(We can take it thurr)
We can handle that
(We can handle that)
We can take it thurr
(We can take it thurr)
We can handle that
(We can handle that)

We can take it thurr
(We can take it thurr)
We can handle that
(We can handle that)
We can take it thurr
(We can take it thurr)
We can handle that
(We can handle that)

West Coast
(Get XXX'd)
East Coast
(Get XXX'd)
Midwest
(Get XXX'd)
Down South
(Get XXX'd)

West Coast
(Get XXX'd)
East Coast
(Get XXX'd)
Midwest
(Get XXX'd)
Down South
(Get XXX'd)

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be26611fac50b08fabbeb260bdc04b96

20 - Fightin' In The Club - Lyrics - I

Title: 20 - Fightin' In The Club
Artist: I
Composer(s): Salaam Remi, Arbie Wilson, Howard Bailey, Christopher Bridges, Bobby Sandimanie, Jayson Dyer, Ty Epps

Lyric:
They fightin' in tha club
We drugged out
(Drugged out)
So clear tha club out
(Club out)
Niggas get drugged out
(Drugged out)

They say they fightin' in tha club
We drugged out
(Drugged out)
So clear tha club out
(Club out)
Niggas get drugged out
(Drugged out)
They say they fightin' in tha club

Yeah, deal 'em bitch recognize I'm back up on my grind hoe
Niggas talkin' this and that and wonder how I sound hoe
Oh, now you hatin' DTP 'cause we got tha game sole
Bottom line you gotta problem then tell it to my now hoe

Well, fuck ya boy he somebody and swing it till that nigga dead
Chingy make a chicken head, tell that give me head
You can die tonight hoe, get a pill roll on
Feezy where them hoes at, Tity otta throw gone

D my sista stun 'em man I hope that I'll support her
You can tell my niece call her I will die for her father
I-20 is a street nigga better recognize we ain't gotta go our sides
We can do it it in tha filth

We drugged out
(Drugged out)
So clear tha club out
(Club out)
Niggas get drugged out
(Drugged out)
They say they fightin' in tha club

We drugged out
(Drugged out)
So clear tha club out
(Club out)
Niggas get drugged out
(Drugged out)
They say they fightin' in tha club

Now you can catch me in tha DnDnC
Them boys throwin' up they thumbs
North, north won this bitch nigga where you from
South side, east side, west side there reclyin'
Boys throwin' up signs tryin' to start a fuckin' riot

Bangin,niggas real gangstas in tha M-Town
But I'm from the hazel this is the type of shit I been round
Nigga yeah, fuck y'all niggas ya niggas wankstas
And got his ass beat down with bottles chairs and tables

We drugged out
(Drugged out)
So clear tha club out
(Club out)
Niggas get drugged out
(Drugged out)
They say they fightin' in tha club

We drugged out
(Drugged out)
So clear tha club out
(Club out)
Niggas get drugged out
(Drugged out)
They say they fightin' in tha club

There's a chair over there and a bottle on tha left
Ain't nobody playing fair ever man for themselves
When the push come to tha shove back to tha push
You against us now us against you

All the buses came in 22's when the spre whole crew
Now everybody gone run when you run I thought I seen a gun
But they fightin' in tha club
Got people doing stunts got people rolling blunts
Got people in the ring go people that have sense
You need to stay low till you get out this buildin'
Burstin' everythin' even ya enemy

Niggas swingin' pool sticks niggas throwin' pool balls
Got niggas throwin' bottles and got them throwin' them all
Don't get locked up and get out tomorrow
They fightin' in the club

It's all our fault had to go to waste 'cause all us folks
We used everthin' for all us quote they took everythin' from all us
Folks my blue shirt and they all got tore
Break pay for it we all got dough buck 'em bust buck 'em bust
They fightin' in tha club

We drugged out
(Drugged out)
So clear tha club out
(Club out)
Niggas get drugged out
(Drugged out)
They say they fightin' in tha club

We drugged out
(Drugged out)
So clear tha club out
(Club out)
Niggas get drugged out
(Drugged out)
They say they fightin' in tha club

They fightin' you fightin' then get out tha spot
Hey black creep out tha ride and get ya shit and pop
Hey black don't get pushed up to tha block they started I am
Don't make me up my peace and turn ya brains into some jams

Ya heard that nigga got scared, ya scared bust his head with
A bear ya heard, why you runnin' over here to scared
Fuck them blazers that urb barlin', parkin' it's like them tennis
So did I mention that DTP will tear tha club up
Bitch nigga what's up don't get fucked up we'll blow yo truck up
From Atlanta to St.Louis they bangin' gangs or not
Yeah, I bang a AK and I gotta a gang a shot
Don't get shot, I'm from tha block

We drugged out
(Drugged out)
So clear tha club out
(Club out)
Niggas get drugged out
(Drugged out)
They say they fightin' in tha club

We drugged out
(Drugged out)
So clear tha club out
(Club out)
Niggas get drugged out
(Drugged out)
They say they fightin' in tha club, okay

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Friday, July 30, 2010

Get Me Bodied (Extended Remix) [Bonus Track] - Lyrics - B'day - Beyonce Knowles

Title: Get Me Bodied (Extended Remix) [Bonus Track]
Album: B'day
Artist: Beyonce Knowles
Composer(s): Angela Beyince, Sean Garrett, Dean Kasseem, Beyonce Knowles, Solange Knowles, Makeba Riddick

Lyric:
Nine, four, eight, one
B'day

Mission one, I?ma put this on
When they see me in this dress I?ma get me some
Mission two, gotta make that call
Tell 'em get the bottles poppin? when they play my song

Mission three, got my three best friends
Like we do it all the time, we gon' do it again
Mission four, got the vintage Rolls
Drop a couple hundred tell him leave it at the door

I ain't worried doin' me tonight
A little sweat ain't never hurt nobody
While you're standin' on the wall
I'm the one to not gettin' bodied

Gettin' bodied, gettin' bodied
Gettin' bodied, gettin' bodied
You want my body, won't you get me bodied
You want my body, won't you get me bodied

Hey everybody, I wanna be myself tonight
Can you get me bodied, I wanna be myself tonight
Won?t you sing my body, I want to let it out tonight
Wanna party, wanna dance, wanna be myself tonight

Mission five, we're at the front of the line
Let me fix my hair before I go inside
Mission six , gotta check these chicks
'Cuz you know they gonna block when I take these flicks

Mission seven, gotta make my rounds
Givin' eyes to the guys, now I think I found 'em
Mission eight, why are we conversatin'?
We could skip small talk, let?s get right to the chase

I ain't worried doin' me tonight
A little sweat ain't never hurt nobody
While you're standin' on the wall
I'm the one to not gettin' bodied

Gettin' bodied, gettin' bodied
Gettin' bodied, gettin' bodied
You want my body, won't you get me bodied
You want my body, won't you get me bodied

You should see my body
I gotta know enough to know if you can get me bodied
I?m kinda tight, I?m feelin' right enough to see somebody
I wanna let it off tonight
Wanna dance, wanna party, wanna be myself tonight

Can you get me bodied, I wanna be myself tonight
Can you get me bodied, I wanna be myself tonight
Won?t you sing my body, I want to let it out tonight
Wanna party, wanna dance, wanna be myself tonight

Baby, all I want is to let it go, ain?t no worries, no
We can dance all night, get me bodied
That means come closer to me, now we grind to the beat
And your body touches my body

All I need is to let it be, ain?t no worry, no
Boy, dance with me, feel my body
Don't stop, just come closer to me while we grind to the beat
And your body touches my body

Ain?t no shame 'cuz I gotta get mine
I swing my hair and kick off my shoes
Come here boy, let me work on you

I ain't worried doin' me tonight
A little sweat ain't never hurt nobody
While you're standin' on the wall
I'm the one to not gettin' bodied

Gettin' bodied, gettin' bodied
Gettin' bodied, gettin' bodied
You want my body, won't you get me bodied
You want my body, won't you get me bodied

Ladies on the floor
All my ladies on the floor
If you're ready, get it ready
To get it, hey, down

Drop down low and sweep the floor with it
Drop, drop down low and sweep the floor with it
Drop down low and sweep the floor with it
Drop, drop down low and sweep the floor with it

Do the oh oh, do the oh oh
Do the oh oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh no, no
Oh oh, do the oh oh
Do the oh oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh no, no

Pat your weave ladies, pat pat pat your weave ladies
Watch him while he check up on it
Pat your weave ladies, pat pat pat your weaves ladies
Watch him while he check up on it

Ti-tick tick tick tick fight
Now tick tick tick tick tick tick fight
Now tick tick tick tick fight
Now tick tick tick tick tick tick fight

Now pose for the camera now flick flick
Pose for the camera now flick flick
Pose for the camera now flick flick
Pose for the camera now flick flick

Do an old school dance, an old school dance
An old school dance, bring it old school
Do an old school dance, an old school dance
Do an old school dance, yeah, old school

Stop, now cool off cool off
Cool off cool off
Drop, and cool off cool off
Cool off cool off

Wind it back girl, wind it back girl
Duck your head, touch the floor, wind it back
Wind it back girl, wind it back girl
Duck your head, touch the floor, wind it back

Drop to your knees, hunch your back girl
Shake shake it like that alley cat
Drop drop to your knees, hunch your back girl
Shake shake it like that alley cat

Shake your diary air in them Dereon's
Shake shake your diary air in the House Of Dereon's
Shake your diary air in them Dereon's
Shake shake your diary air in the House Of Dereon's

Do the sissor leg, touch your heel, touch your toe
Do the sissor leg, touch your heel, touch your toe
Do the sissor leg, touch your heel, touch your toe
Do the sissor leg, touch your heel, touch your toe

Do the Naomi Campbell walk, Naomi Campbell walk
Walk across the room like Naomi Campbell
Do the Naomi Campbell walk, Naomi Campbell walk
Walk across the room like Naomi Campbell

And snap for the kids, snap for the kids
Snap for them suckas few times
Snap for the kids, snap for the kids
Snap for them suckas few times

I touch your body while you touch my body
We touching bodies tonight, we gettin' bodied
I touch your body while you touch my body
We touching bodies tonight, we gettin' bodied

Gettin' bodied, gettin' bodied
Gettin' bodied, gettin' bodied
You want my body, won't you get me bodied
You want my body, won't you get me bodied

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ca5ccd669fdf6929612e51edba48bf60

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Purple Rain - Lyrics - The B.Coming - Beanie Sigel

Title: Purple Rain
Album: The B.Coming
Artist: Beanie Sigel
Composer(s): Anthony Hester, Dwight Grant

Lyric:
Caution, do not mix wit alcohol
It may cause drowsiness
Keep out of reach of small children

I roll it back, crack a Dutch, have a sizip
Get introduced to this drink that I sizip
Promethazine, wit Codeine? Thats my twizist
It might lean you to the left or make you izitch
The Pearl Meth wit the Tuss some like the mizix
Caught into they physics and how they wanna dizip
Yo be careful, it ain't ya ordinary liquid

The first time you sip it, you mite get addicted
Matter of fact, I know you're gonna get addicted
'Cause it's so sweet
Life Liquid, plus it's good for you're sickness
I used to watch my uncle sip it
Goin through itz that in my grand-mother's kitchen
Head in his lap, Grand-mom bitchin
Pocket full of scrap, plus scratchin and itchin

Back when they sip Broma smoked Cheeba
Took doggys fours and two receive'ahs
This one is for my real Mug Mixers
Who get screwed up, my thick juice sippers
Shout out, to my man Lil Flip
Big Mo, Project Pat and the whole three six
Yea, I know about them Texas boys
Who keep a liter in the cup, and a heater in the tuck
Think the Xanax and the Endo Sack, make me slack?
Cocktailed or v'd up, gettin Swiss cheesed up

Please don't blow my high
Don't blow my high
When I'm sippin' that purple rain
Don't blow my high
[Incomprehensible] me, you don't know my life
Nigga, don't blow my high, don't blow my high
When I'm sippin' that purple rain
I know it makes 'em crazy, it keeps me lazy

When back in '94 when Screw still had his gate up
He called me over to his house and he poured me a 8 up
I asked him what it was, he said, "Bun, get ya weight up
This is lean, them white folks call it Promethazine"
Shit, but we gonna probably drink, dawg, cuz thats what we be doin' to it
Now take this Big Red and pour about a 2 into it
I did 2's and 8's, what the fuck is you trippin' on?
He said, "Man, that's the ounces of cough syrup that you sippin' on"

So shit, I poured it I sipped it, then I sipped some mo
I fired up a green monster, and I hit that hoe
Started relaxin', shit and to my surprise
I was noddin' out lookin' at the back of my eyes
They tried to wake me up but shit, I just kept yawnin'
I fell out of my chair, woke up there the next mornin'
God bless my nigga, cause it's then I been spoiled
On my white muddy cup of Texas tea, that R

Please don't blow my high
Don't blow my high, no
When I'm sippin' that purple rain
Don't blow my high
[Incomprehensible] me, you don't know my life
Nigga don't blow my high, don't blow my high
When I'm sippin' that purple rain
I know it makes em crazy, keeps me lazy

I roll it back, crack a Dutch, have a sizip
Get introduced to this leaf in my spliziff
No stems, no seeds, no stizzicks
The ultimate experience like Jimmy Hendrix
I like to roll up, cowboy tradition
Or burn a Peace Pipe, and Cythe like the Injins
Or burn a big spliff, Bob Marley style
Buffalo Soldier, Rosta Farey style

Smokes on pizurp, we sipz on syzurp
Get it by the 8, by the pint or by the kizurp
Some might take ya high or a down or a bizurp
Whatever you can stand, floats you're boat makes ya twizurp
Yes, I fucks wit you if you smoke on green or sip on lean
Yea whatever, click or teen, strip for a scene
Nigga burn a spliff one time
Say bean and swing ya big body Benz and Ima swing mine

Please don't blow my high
Now, don't blow my high
Don't blow my high
When I'm sippin' that purple rain
Don't blow my high
Sippin' good right now
[Incomprehensible] me, you don't know my life
Nigga don't blow my high, don't blow my high
[Incomprehensible]
When I'm sippin' that purple rain
I know it makes em crazy, it keeps me lazy

Oh mayne, dedicated to real syrup sippers
Boys wit big white cups
Man, they doin' it mayne and 10 years plus, mayne
Dedicated to that boy Screw, my boy Fat Pat, boy Big Steve
My boy Big Melo rest in peace, them boiz poured up real big mayne
When they was here, you know what I'm sayin'
Wassup young pimp? We miss you mayne, come on home
I'ma pour a pint just for you
[Incomprehensible] got pregnant this year, mayne
I ain't [Incomprehensible] enough yet

Yo, screwed up Click, we in here
Manye hold up, I promise I'm throwed [Incomprehensible]
Hold up, wassup young Wee, the fingerz in here baby
Hey, ya'll gonna have to cut this off, mayne
I'm, I can't do this right now
Hey I'm, I'm comin' out

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7ed4553715af88cdd5409cd3a5ab29f2

Friday, July 30, 2010

Dollaz + Sense - Lyrics - Dj Quik

Title: Dollaz + Sense
Artist: Dj Quik
Composer(s): David Blake

Lyric:
Now let's get down to business, bitches
'Cause it seems like y'all just keep on tryin' to diss this
Nigga that you know that's been down for years
I've clowned for years, and y'all could never fade my peers
One two three four five six seven nine, ten, Eiht you can't win
'Cause all the way around nigga I gets respect
And youse a nigga that can't even get no props in your set
Tragniew Park you say huh

Wanna be rippin', but now it's time to do some set trippin'
So listen close, 'cause I don't want y'all to miss
That I'm bout to break it down for this bitch, check it
Acacia, Poplar Maple Spruce Cedar Elm
West side trees sprayin' all the fleas
that's from the three and four hundred block P-Funk riders
So niggaz watch yo' ass at that center divider
Now Aaron Tyler, tell my why you seem so tame

When I caught you at the airport, shakin' like a crap game
You looked up and you seen my niggaz comin
And you looked like your bitch ass was 'bout to start runnin'
But all I wanted to do was kick a little conversation
And see if we can fix this little situation
But would I fuck you up was what you wondered
Yeah, that's probably why you changed your little pager number
But bitches like you don't grow

You can't even look me in my eye, let alone go toe to toe
And callin' me skinny, youse a clown
I'ma call you Theo, 'cause you weigh ninety-two point three pounds
Wack ass actor, movie script killer
Fool don't you know, Quik is still the nigga
Compton psycho, boy you oughta quit
Your records don't hit, and bitches don't jock your shit
You need to stay down you Compton clown

And get off of the nuts of the niggaz with guts
Because I'm down with the Trees, I'm down with Death Row
I'm down with Black Tone, and I'm down with the fo'
So when we cross paths and I hope that's soon
I'ma boot your motherfuckin' ass to the moon
You need to quit bangin' under false pretense
'Cause if don't make dollars, it don't make sense

If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
So don't kill game, let the pimpin' commence
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
So don't kill game, let the people, commence
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
So don't kill game, let the pimpin' commence
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
Because you gotta give it up to the crown prince

Now I'ma swing it to the right and, right into the left hand
Take a deep breath and, cook it like a chef and
This is dedicated to the C-P-T
No better yet T-T-P, or the niggaz that look up to me
I make it my business, to be that true forever
And whenever I can come clever well that's my endeavor
So whether or not you understand, that there's only one DJ Q-U-I-K
With no C still you can't be me
Because I'm floatin' in my Lex and, depositin' fat checks and
Gettin mad sex while I floss the NSX and

Doin' what I wanna, and youse a goner nigga
For thinkin that you can catch me slippin' on a street corner
Remember Compton's in the house, and Quik is in the hood
Sippin' yak with all my niggaz 'cause it's tooted good
So don't knock it till you try it, 'cause Eiht he tried to knock it
But he's still walkin' round with my nuts in his pocket
So put tha P in it represent and sip that Miller
And for those of y'all concerned, this is still Eiht Killa
Let me take a load off my scrotum little pest
If it don't make dollars nigga, you know the rest

If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
So don't kill game, let the pimpin' commence
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
So don't kill game, let the people, commence
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
So don't kill game, let the pimpin' commence
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
Because you gotta give it up to the crown prince

Now I done sold my fuckin' soul to the shit that I kick
While you groupie ass niggaz keep on ridin' the dick
You oughta know that DJ Quik ain't your average
Everyday motherfucker, slick like a snake 'cause I stuck ya
Now, I never had my dick sucked by a man befo'
But you gon' be the first you little trick ass hoe
Then you can tell me just how it taste
But before I nut I shoot some piss in your face
You fuckin' coward, tremblin' like a nervous wreck

'Cause when I caught your ass, you put yourself in check
And when you left my presence, you left expedient
You ain't no fuckin' killer, youse a comedian, beyotch
Tell me why you act so scary
Givin' your set a bad name wit your misspelled name
E-I-H-T, now should I continue
Yeah you left out the G 'cause the G ain't in you
Remember that time you was rollin' on the West side
And a little brown bucket pulled up on your side

Caught at that light in your Camry in the midst of a
Real killer, tell me did you feel a little nervous
You was in the shadow of death with two trey-five-sevens
Pointed at your chest whatchu gon' do, where was your
Niggaz that kill at you ain't got no killers so kill dat
Holdin' up your hands and beggin' for a pass
You lucky they didn't just to get to dumpin' on yo' ass
'Cause this game you think is funny is some real shit
So you need to be more careful who you fuckin' wit, beyotch!

If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
So don't kill game, let the pimpin' commence
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
I'm through playin' with your punk ass
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
So don't kill game, let the pimpin' commence
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
Because you gotta give it up to the crown prince

Shouts goes out, to my well known road dog
What's up Dozun Tru, they don't understand it baby
They can't fade us out here on these Compton streets
It's bigger than they can imagine to the whole entire
Death Row family both sides, whassup niggaz
And my nigga Big Suge, known for keepin' shit poppin'

To my nigga Big J, my little nigga Hi-C, little straight G
And that little singin' ass nigga Danny Boy
Y'all don't understand, y'all can't fade this
I'm the first nigga that was "Bangin' on Wax"
Yeah if you remember, nineteen eighty-seven underground tapes
And it don't stop, and it won't stop

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36f66c2b1b54ed9557906407511fad54

Saturday, July 31, 2010

Order My Steps - Lyrics - Strength and Loyalty - Bone Thugs N Harmony

Title: Order My Steps
Album: Strength and Loyalty
Artist: Bone Thugs N Harmony
Composer(s): Steven Howse, Charles Scruggs, Glenn Burleigh, Anthony Henderson

Lyric:
Jeremiah 10: 23, 24, we will know, oh Lord
That to earthly men, His way does not belong
It does not belong to man
Who must walk and even to direct his step

Correct me, oh Jehovah
However with judgment not in anger
That You may not reduce us to nothing

Order my steps in Your world

Order my steps in Your world, dear Lord
Lead me, guide me everyday
Send your anointing, Father, I pray
Order my steps in Your world

Why am I payin' this price for fame? Now with the shame
I'm to blame 'cause I'm solo empty
When I can stop and give it all to Christ
'Cause in His name no weapon should be formed against me

Simply know that the world gon' tempt me
Satan is the enemy, God please help us
I don't wanna be selfish
I don't wanna live my life tryin' to be rebellious

Who be checkin' when you know you doin' wrong, huh?
Got your steps, give your blessings
Know right from wrong, turn the lights on
All you gotta do is follow faith till they call us all home
But it's so hard, temptation is everywhere
Gotta hold my guard like, oh my God

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Now I might not make it to Heaven
But I'm tryin' to come back in the resurrection
Take my place in Paradise
So I pray to God, try to change my life
But temptation make it hard for me to make it out

Man, I gotta quit lustin', I need to stop smokin'
I need God's guidance, without it, I'm hopeless
I'm lone and about world zonin' it out, I'm gone
Lord, please help me stand strong

Order my steps in Your world, dear Lord
Lead me, guide me everyday
Send your anointing, Father, I pray
Order my steps in Your world

A lotta soldiers in the pen, ain't ever comin' home
Can you find it in your heart to pray?
So it seems everything goin' wrong
And you're just tryin' to find your way

Momma just wanna feed her babies
Tryin' to keep a safe place to stay
Don't stress, it's a test, God bless
All you really gotta do is just keep your faith

You can feel it if you open up
You can get it if you need love
As much as a mustard seed is all you need
Small price to pay for the air that we breathe

And the baby is born, place to go when we leave
Food that we eat, weapon when we sleep
It's a miracle, no believe in the Lord

Hey, what cha seein' on the news
Has been already written in the Bible
But ain't nobody takin' the time to realize
That believin' and readin' the Scriptures
Could mean your survival

And I don't wanna die, no never
I wanna live forever and I want a life better
So when Armageddon really come true, whatchu gon' do?

Order my steps in Your world, dear Lord
Lead me, guide me everyday
Send your anointing, Father, I pray
Order my steps in Your world

Order my steps
Lead me, guide me everyday
Send Your anointing, Father, I pray
Order my steps in Your world

Swing low, swing low
(He loves me)
Swing low, swing low

Swing low, swing low
(He loves me)
Swing low, swing low
(For the Bible tells me so)
Swing low

You know God is good, you know God is great
And everyday I wake, I gotta thank Him for my life
And even though it's hard, I know I make mistakes
I give it everything it takes just to make it right

This is Satan's land, understand the plan, y'all
Jesus comin' back with a furious mind
Better praise everyday, hurry doin' your job
Glory to the King, that's my Heavenly Father

He's comin' back soon, here I am
Order my, order my
Order my steps in Your world, dear Lord

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Wednesday, August 18, 2010

The Shivers - Lyrics - Naughty By Nature

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

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

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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Thursday, July 29, 2010

Bang It Out - Lyrics - Papoose

Title: Bang It Out
Artist: Papoose
Composer(s): C Broadus, W Mackie, S Storch

Lyric:
Papoose
Scott Storch, Scott Storch
Papoose, Papoose
Snoop Dogg, Snoop Dogg

Helicopter in the sky, airplane in the clouds
Boats in the ocean, cars travel the ground
I watch from the balcony, this is a busy town
I kinda like Miami, I might lock it down

My girl with me, she cook better than Mr. Chows
Told her I order somethin', baby just dial zero for room service
She looked up and smiled
I was just stuck in the hood

Look at me now
Opened up my safe and put the chain around my neck
Then I locked my watch, bling blaow, pinky ring and bracelet
Kinda loud, I got a lotta jewels, 'cause I got a lotta style

Before I got here, my homie was on trial
Walked in the court, the jurors was like, wow
Hollered at Shaq, they was playin' some clowns
Went to the game, can't blend in with the crowd

Won a couple grand when Shaquille got fouled
Bet you he make these an easy then thou
The best of both worlds is a kilo and a pound
In case I gotta bang I'm totin' the 40 cal

You got a system in your truck? Let it bang
I could see your butt from the front, let it bang
You gang bang then it's all the same thing
We can bang it on out, we can bang it out

I dare y'all to violate, we can bang it out
Ice grillin' in my face, we can bang it out
Tryna stick me for my papes, we can bang it out
We can bang it on out, we can bang it on out

What it is? What it was?
Who you wit? Is you wit us?
'Cause we love to bang and swing and live it up
I get low and roll a tree wit a foe

Break bread or fake dead, that's the slogan, li'l homie
Why you da boss? See I been chosin', li'l homie
And I been doin this the old fashioned way
Stickin', movin', on these suckas just like Cassius Clay

Make it rain? Naw boo, I'm tryna stash my cash away
Knockin' down trap doors and turnin' out rap whores
Sellin' out rap tours on your favorite television show
Goin' hard on 'em though

East coast let loose, my nephew, Papoose, he got the juice
So watch the Impala as it swing by and be on the lookout
For them boys with them gang signs, that's us and you can trust
We gon' bust Big Snoop and Papoose bang, bang in your truck

You got a system in your truck? Let it bang
I could see your butt from the front, let it bang
You gang bang then it's all the same thing
We can bang it on out, we can bang it out

I dare y'all to violate, we can bang it out
Ice grillin' in my face, we can bang it out
Tryna stick me for my papes, we can bang it out
We can bang it on out, we can bang it on out

My style similar to hell, hotter than high temperatures
World wide finisher, the US, I'm the lyrical president
The UK king, wild sinister
They love me in Canada, they call me the prime minister

Said I'd lose my life on the corner
But I'm in Miami on the balcony, overlookin' the water
Give my credit card to my daughter
Tell her to swipe it like Swiper from Dora The Explorer

And I just bought her the ice that don't melt
I give her what she want, she spoiled like old milk
They'll say the block slow if you ain't really smart chill
Cop from another connect, give you the raw deal

Flip your money twice then come for some more crills
Dudes will flip on you, the game ill
Since they like flippin' on me man, I cop that long steel
Hit him in his side and make him do a cartwheel

You got a system in your truck? Let it bang
I could see your butt from the front, let it bang
You gang bang then it's all the same thing
We can bang it on out, we can bang it out

I dare y'all to violate, we can bang it out
Ice grillin' in my face, we can bang it out
Tryna stick me for my papes, we can bang it out
We can bang it on out, we can bang it on out

You got a system in your truck? Let it bang
I could see your butt from the front, let it bang
You gang bang then it's all the same thing
We can bang it on out, we can bang it out

I dare y'all to violate, we can bang it out
Ice grillin' in my face, we can bang it out
Tryna stick me for my papes, we can bang it out
We can bang it on out, we can bang it on out

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Thursday, August 12, 2010

Enemy - Lyrics - Lethal Injection - Ice Cube

Title: Enemy
Album: Lethal Injection
Artist: Ice Cube
Composer(s): Lasse Baumgaard, Nicholas Kvaran, Rasmus Berg, Jesper Dahl, O'Shea Jackson

Lyric:
Every January 16th, it's "The dreamer, the dreamer"
And all of you say, "I have a dream, the dreamer"
And what did he dream? It stuck him right there
And little black boys, and little white girls
Will one day hold hands together

Shit
Is that where it's at? Is that where it's at now?
Them little blacks hands are yours
You can't hold the black brothers' hands?

But you gonna grow old holdin' crackers' hands
Before you hold each other's hands?
You gonna walk with your enemy
Before you learn to walk with one another?
How sick can you be?
(Enemy)

Where you gonna go when the brothers wanna bust a shot
where you gonna go when I wanna kill blood clot
Super cat said that the ghetto red hot
Bust a gloc, bust a gloc, devils get shot

Nappy-headed, no-dreaded look where ya read it
Buck the devil, buck the devil, look who said it
Listen what I say after 1995, not one death will be alive
God will survive, him protect the civilized

Who really cares if the enemy lives or dies?
Not me, not me
Me never eat from the tree with the apple
I'd rather have a Snapple

Do you know where you're going to
Do you know where you're runnin' from
Scared of the sun, I live in the sun
You shrivel up like a raisin

And burn like the blunt that I'm blazin'
Ku klux klan scared of my nutty beats
'Cause them nutty beats equal bloody sheets
Out number you somethin' like 15 to 3
See, don't love your enemy

Enemies, enemy runnin' from the G
Enemies, enemy, you're my enemy
Enemies, enemy, when will I see?
Enemies, enemy R.I.P.

Where you gonna run when God wanna do ya?
J. Edgar Hoover, I wish I woulda knew ya
With the boom ping ping is the ring from the fire
Me not afraid, 'cause me know Elijah

Goin' to the East but straight from the West side
Swing down sweet chariot, nad let me ride
Through the fire, through the fire that will please us
I know that Farrakhan is your baby Jesus

Devil don't you know I'm a soldier?
In God's name and the baby claim I'm gonna hold ya
Like Folger's Crystals feds
I'ma pick your ass like Juan Valdez

You don't care if me die from the cracka
You don't care if me have a heart attacka
You don't care if me get car jacka
You don't care 'cause you're nothing but a cracka

Now it's Judgment Day, and Allah'll never play
"Freedom got an AK", them Guerrilla say
Bobby Seale said, "Please make it rough, bro"
When God give the word, me herd like the buffalo

Through your neighborhood, watch me blast
Tribe of Shabazz, get in that ass
You shoulda took heed of my word and became a friend of me
Now you're just a enemy

Enemies, enemy runnin' from the G
Enemies, enemy, you're my enemy
Enemies, enemy, when will I see?
Enemies, enemy R.I.P.

Now I change my style up, my style up,bodies pile up
Just to trouble you, throwin' out the W
Sent me a subpoena
'Cause I kill more crackas then Bosnia, Herzegovina

Each and every day out a siz-tre Chevrolet
With the heavy A to the muthafuckin' K
Now you treat me like a germ
'Cause your scared of the super sperm

Please don't bust 'til you see, the whites of his eyes
The whites of his skin, the whites of his lies
Nappy head nigga with the bone in his nose
Ya scared I'ma put this bone in your hoes

But I don't wanna, I've been to cona
From the cave bitch with the nasty persona
Hit me with the big black billy club
'Cause you white and your hoe than a silly nub

Three men in the tub, rub-a-dub-dub
And it's really scary, now they're in the military
Sodom and Gomorrah, devil read your Torah
Bible, Holy Qur'an

Once again it's on, got the hollow point Teflon
And the brother Ron
Once again it's on, got the hollow point Teflon
And the brother Ron

So who's next?
(Devil)
With Dub C, Brother G
Crazy Toons is a crazy coon ready for the enemy
High off the Hennesy

Hundred ten degree, no it's not Tennessee
West L.A., what the hell can I say?
Niggas wanna play, each and every day
Pass me the pill, a nigga shoot the J

Rougher than the roughest rough muthafucka, had enough muthafucka?
Handcuff this muthafucka with the duct tape, tie it to the bumper
Grab his bitch, dump her, 'cause nobody wanna hump her
They call me Thumper 'cause I thump 'til it hurt

Knock your dick in the dirt, puttin' in work
Master Farad Muhammad comin' like a comet
When they see em, they all start to vomit
1995, Elijah is alive, Lewis Farrakhan, NOI
Bloods and Crips and little ol' me
And we all gettin' ready for the enemy

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