P-Poppin' - Lyrics - Chicken N Beer - Ludacris

Title: P-Poppin'
Album: Chicken N Beer
Artist: Ludacris
Composer(s): Chad Hugo, Christopher Bria Bridges, Rashawna Guy, A Wilson, Pharrell Williams, Zukhan Bey, Michael L Tyler

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

Lyric:
{One more again
Head down pussy poppin' on a handstand}

Head down pussy pussy poppin'
Head down pussy pussy poppin'
Head down pussy pussy poppin'
Head down pussy poppin' on a handstand

On a handstand
On my American bandstands
Summersaults cartwheels bitch just keep on dancing
Chinese splits-splits slide on down that pole-pole
And feel this dick-dick gettin' outta control-trol
Oh no keep goin' till a nigga like me say stop
Let it kiss the sky and then make it drop
Tuck and twist if you don't like it you can fuck Cris
I'm rubbin' clicks so stay in catch don't try to duck and miss

Do your stretches don't pull no hamstrings
You got me movin' in fact you doin' the damn thang
Stronger muscles exercise every body your body hurts
Let's do this sweatin' thank God your bath and body works
I like a woman that makes her own dough don't need a lot of help
But your heart'll melt if I put a thousand in your garter belt
Lip gloss traces you're pierced in 11 places
And your lips down town just made some familiar faces like woah

Head down pussy pussy poppin'
Head down pussy pussy poppin'
Head down pussy pussy poppin'
Head down pussy poppin' on a handstand

Head down pussy pussy poppin'
Head down pussy pussy poppin'
Head down pussy pussy poppin'
Head down pussy poppin' on a handstand

I'mma send a chapter to this pussy poppin' legacy
Tryin' ta be that bitch can't no bitches don't fuck wit me
When I pop that Cris I'm on that business and bubbly
When I'm in that 6 wit 20's spinin' I'm luxury
'Cuz I got that head game
Fuckin' up that bed frame
But don't get me wrong now shawty gon' let that led hang
Better learn that game shawty

Better get yo' man shawty
Fo' he end up tamed and be gone all in the brain shawty
This here be futuristic
This business so explicit
The way I break it down for you bitches, it's so exquisite
Let it go now front back watch me drop it like that
Show me where that money at
Boy come wit them money stacks

Break in wit that pussy poppin'
That pussy droppin' to the floe
And got these niggas slobbin' he wantin' mo'
Wit out that doe popi ain't nuttin' happen
'Cuz that's the show I'm from go jukin' that pussy poppin'
Stoppin' that pussy droppin' gone

Head down pussy pussy poppin'
Head down pussy pussy poppin'
Head down pussy pussy poppin'
Head down pussy poppin' on a handstand

Head down pussy pussy poppin'
Head down pussy pussy poppin'
Head down pussy pussy poppin'
Head down pussy poppin' on a handstand

Every time we hit the club
We at least 50 deep
Smokin' purple po and grichi got everybody keyed
In the club 7 days a week party be be off in this bitch
That hoe poppin' droppin' god-damn shawty who is this

Redbone wit a scorpio tatted on her tummy
I'm sittin' slouched back in the chair stuntin' waving money
And shawty start zig zaggin' a derrierre for me
A bowlegged darbreded said her name was Strawberry
Up her pussy shawty pushed in a whole bottle o' mo
Reached in my pocket grabbed a G and then threw it on the floe
Here you deserve this doe now jump on stage and work the pole
Face down ass up hoe hands on those

Now pop that coochie you know the procedure
If you want this cash gotta make that ass shake like a seizure
Either magic or please us
Find me spending G's up
Maxin' out my Visa
Trickin' on strip teasers

Head down pussy pussy poppin'
Head down pussy pussy poppin'
Head down pussy pussy poppin'
Head down pussy poppin' on a handstand

Head down pussy pussy poppin'
Head down pussy pussy poppin'
Head down pussy pussy poppin'
Head down pussy poppin' on a handstand

Head down pussy pussy poppin'
Head down pussy pussy poppin'
Head down pussy pussy poppin'
Head down pussy poppin' on a handstand

Play the MP3 online for free!

f6450fe469eb1f9cabffde5c20cee6f5

True Story - Lyrics - B.G.

Title: True Story
Artist: B.G.
Composer(s): Christopher Noel Dorsey, Bryon O Thomas

Lyric:
Right now we got a lil' youngsta
Lil' Doogie from the B.G.'z
Do what'cha gotta do mane
Say what'cha gotta say, Wayne

The rhymes you are about to hear are true
This some true shit

Shoulda killed you bitches when we heard that song
Tipped it on, talkin' 'bout 6th and Baronne
When the fuckin' lights on up early in the mornin'
All that muthafuckin' creepin'
Pissin' on the set when a nigga Dee, sleepin'

Pussy ass, you know you can't survive
You was creepin' through that third you must don't know it's do or die
Now that nigga on my list
A p-poppin' bitch no disresp', p-poppin' bitch no disresp'
P-poppin', p-poppin', p-poppin', bitch no disrespect to the tenth

But there's a pussy in your face and they can suck and dick
Ridin' and slidin' with all that workin' and twerkin'
You can't be no "G", 'cuz a "G" not down wit' jerkin'
Them niggas always comin' with that play
You want some real drama, why don't you bring that shit our way?

'Cuz I'm a Baby Gangsta down for that street funk
Stuntin' in a concert, take it to the fuckin' trunk
Talkin' all that bullshit, talkin' all that shit on wax
Talkin' all that yak-yak, but I'ma split your Kool-Aid pack, bitch
I got my pistol close at hand, this for the real, real pussies in the can

The rhymes you are about to hear are true
This some true shit

Chuck fuckin' them niggas at night
They doin' bad and slangin' rhymes at the same time, ain't lyin'
Now this nigga is a muthafuckin' dick beater
Heard at Corn[unverified] he was a muthafuckin' cheerleader

Fuckin' wit a B.G., best believe you will get served
I'ma leavin' ya muthafuckin' thinking cap on the curb
Chuck got some mail? 'Cuz oh, yes, I'm comin' to get'cha
And if I don't get 20 G's, I'ma split'cha

I'm a murderer, server, nigga come try to test
Had to put'em to rest, no vest but one to the chest
But uh, you know you done fucked up don't cha?
Like Yella said, you mad 'cuz Ca$h Money didn't want'cha

Let's move across that water strapped with that A.K.
They got some wannabe crips, wanna bang, go to L.A.
Now you can claim, the East, North, West, or South
Mystikal fool, you can pump this dick right in your mouth

Them niggas be rappin', very much trippin'
Talkin' all that nonsense, slippin' talkin' bout they be crippin'
But it's like this, watch out before you get bucked
I'm tellin' coward ass niggas to raise up, raise up, raise up

At first he was a cheerleader now he ain't that nigga to fuck wit
That goes to show you studio yeah that nigga buck quick
You duck sick when I catch'cha, you best to start to runnin'
Cuz I'm comin', start duckin', cuz I'm bustin' and pluckin', fuck it

Chuck, you big trick, you hoe bitch
Puttin' stank hoes in apartments and shit
And ummm, them niggas who help you get the money
You straight fuck 'em
When check time come, they gets nothin', you pluck 'em

And y'all hoes for lettin' him take it, hard rolled and fake it
Niggas best to look like skatin'
Now back to this muthafuckin' Mystikal, bitch
You wanna jump on a nigga like a morphodyke come jump on the dick

That's enough of this hoe shit on the real
If you don't spit "G" shit with skillz you can't pay bills I make mils
I close the shop for them niggas wanna shine
Sign on my nine when I put it on your mind into your spine

Don't whine, niggas can't handle me not hard
I'm the bitch who came to fuck up the party
When I catch'cha I'ma kill ya don't worry
This is another part of that fuckin' true story

Partners you bet not do no crime, get no time and go to jail
Cuz in that two man cell, best believe you gone get nailed
Mystikal you'z a hoe, it's time I let'cha know
Y'all ain't ready for Local five, got a boot camp fulla hoes

I'm gat totin', ready to leave your heart open
Bullets floatin', hot nine chambers smokin'
Uptown, ya bound to get y'all wig split
Y'all represent a 17th set that don't even exist

Now that's a shame, you reppin' just to get a name
You can't survive in this game 'cuz you niggas lame
I'm ready to take it to some "G" shit, street shit
Where caps get peeled and wigs bound to get split

I'm off Valence, ain't no doubt this B.G. ain't real
I'm bout to hiccup some bullets out my fuckin' steel
Peel, make niggas kneel, bow down
From this clown that's gonna put you six in the ground

It's time a nigga put Big Boy where the fuck they belong
Rollin' wit' tec-9 best believe it's on
Raise up, raise up, raise up, raise up, raise up

Play the MP3 online for free!

c447e8a3adfa576f4634f1ce707db559

Starched & Cleaned - Lyrics - I Need Mine $$ - Lil' Flip

Title: Starched & Cleaned
Album: I Need Mine $$
Artist: Lil' Flip
Composer(s): Marcus Edwards, Milton Powell, Wesley Weston

Lyric:
Let's do it, starched and cleaned, poppin' out, lookin' good
I still represent the same neighborhood
Starched and cleaned, poppin' out, lookin' good
I still represent the same neighborhood

Starched and cleaned, poppin' out, lookin' good
I still represent the same neighborhood
Starched and cleaned, poppin' out, lookin' good
I still represent the same neighborhood

Aye, the whole world like, "Flip, where the f*** you been?"
On vacation, ridin' in my Maybach Benz
I'm swangin' left and right like I ain't got no license
The n*** on my hip, I call it Iron Mike Tyson

And you already know what we mix our Sprites in
Yellow gold, that's where we dip our ice in
Your h***, that's where we stick our pipes in
Homie, I'm free stylin', I'm not writin'

Man I be reppin' Texas way harder than y'all
I'm a millionaire, d***, I'm way smarter than y'all
I got fifteen p***, cars with no leases
A DJ Screw shirt in the v-suits with cream, you know I'm

Starched and cleaned, poppin' out, lookin' good
I still represent the same neighborhood
Starched and cleaned, poppin' out, lookin' good
I still represent the same neighborhood

Starched and cleaned, poppin' out, lookin' good
I still represent the same neighborhood
Starched and cleaned, poppin' out, lookin' good
I still represent the same neighborhood

Big Pokey, he from Yellow Stone, I be rollin' hella chrome
Clover watch with yellow stones, I'm shinin'
Cook the w*** then get it gone, break it down to all zones
And don't be talkin' on your phone, hello, 'cause we grindin'

See I be gettin' cash now, my 84's glass now
Ya'll be ridin' on 3's, you ain't like them Clover G's
I got a ticket at the light 'cause my rims ain't stop
And I hope he don't smell all this smoke comin' out

You know the Clover G's first, them Squad-Up next
So all my enemies, you better guard ya chest
'Cause everyday I'm fly now, yeah, my paper high now
And I represent Screwed Up Click until I die

Starched and cleaned, poppin' out, lookin' good
I still represent the same neighborhood
Starched and cleaned, poppin' out, lookin' good
I still represent the same neighborhood

Starched and cleaned, poppin' out, lookin' good
I still represent the same neighborhood
Starched and cleaned, poppin' out, lookin' good
I still represent the same neighborhood

I'm a H-Town n***, stay down, n***
Parkin' at the club, at the playground, n***
I don't lay down, n***, I lay n*** down
I rock Sean John linen and I don't play around

I push more teeth than the motiff, I get my grind on homie
Everything starched down like I get my iron on
And I still represent the same neighborhood
Yellow Stone with my yellow stones against the wood

I'm a hood, n***, tight, white, white ones
Bad b*** get head pinned, I'ma go pull out the right ones
I shine like diamonds, swangin' wide with the roof back
Cushion the amp with the roof cracked, d***, is hot, I'ma loot that

Aye, I'm poppin' out and lookin' good fresh out that wood grain
Recline the buck and hold the cup before I switch lane
I'm in that brain stain where seven disc change
It's in the wind but spinnin' rims when the speed gain

Oh, yeah, this Ke man, plus I stay starched and cleaned
I'm poppin' doors and pullin' h*** before I flee the scene
They catch us steppin' out with foreign doors and plenty slab
It's Don Ke and young Flippa, n***, do the math

They doin' suicide, the brains blowin' out
It's chrome strutzin', buttergutcha, know what I'm talkin' 'bout?
It's S.U.C., Screwston, Texas so we slowed down
You sip, you drink and get your brain, this is H-Town

Starched and cleaned, poppin' out, lookin' good
I still represent the same neighborhood
Starched and cleaned, poppin' out, lookin' good
I still represent the same neighborhood

Starched and cleaned, poppin' out, lookin' good
I still represent the same neighborhood
Starched and cleaned, poppin' out, lookin' good
I still represent the same neighborhood

Play the MP3 online for free!

da9eb9e6036dede1918b834eea1cf76e

You Don'T Know Me - Lyrics - T.I.

Title: You Don'T Know Me
Artist: T.I.
Composer(s): Clifford Joseph Harris, Aldrin Davis

Lyric:
I'ma tell y'all sucka niggaz somethin'
First of all nigga, look'a here dawg

You mighta seen me in the streets but nigga, you don't know me
When you holla when you speak, remember you don't know me
Save all the hatin' and the poppin', nigga you don't know me
Quit tellin' niggaz you my partna, nigga you don't know me

Don't be a groupie, keep it movin', nigga you don't know me
Hey I ain't trippin' pimp, the truth is really, you don't know me
Yeah, you know they call me T.I., but you don't know me
You be hatin' and I see why, 'cause you don't know me

I think it's time I made a song for niggaz who don't know me
I graduated out the streets, I'ma real O.G
I been trappin', shootin' pistols since I stood four feet
So all you niggaz actin' bad, you gon' have to show me

You gon' make me bring this Chevy to a real slow creep
My niggaz hangin' out the window, mouth fulla gold teeth
When the guns start poppin' wonder when it's gone cease
Choppa hit you in the side and create a slow leak

We can end the speculation 'cause today we gone see
What's the future of a pussy nigga hatin' on me
I give a fuck about the FED's investigation on me
I don't care that they at my shows and they waitin' on me

I'ma keep on flossin', poppin' long as Toomp is on the beat
Tell police's I ain't stoppin', I'ma keep it in the streets
Contrary to yo beliefs, I'm as real as you can be
Fuck yo thoughts and yo feelings, nigga you don't know me

You mighta seen me in the streets but nigga, you don't know me
When you holla when you speak, remember you don't know me
Save all the hatin' and the poppin', nigga you don't know me
Quit tellin' niggaz you my partna, nigga you don't know me

Don't be a groupie, keep it movin', nigga you don't know me
Hey I ain't trippin' pimp, the truth is really, you don't know me
Yeah, you know they call me T.I., but you don't know me
You be hatin' and I see why, 'cause you don't know me

Ay, once again let me remind you nigga, you don't know me
So don't be walkin' up and askin' whus tha deal on a key
I don't know if you wearin' wires, you could be the police
If I was slangin' blow you couldn't get a O.Z

See me and the P.$.C. fallin' through at a show deep
Police holdin' up the door, 'cause they know we tote heat
I just wanna ride wit C, blow dro' in the Fleet
Or with [unverified], 'bout a dozen different bitches in a week

I just wanna chill with Kuntry and his daddy Freddie G
Ballin' out at anytime, at any store we spend a G
Wanna ball in the Bahamas, courtesy of K.T
MacBoney gotta mill, as well as Dolla D.P

A.K. house on the hill right next to J. Get
Every week meet there for lunch, restaurant and eat free
Get Inda paid, lil' Greg and B
That's the only shot we got at gettin' Cap back on the streets

You mighta seen me in the streets but nigga, you don't know me
When you holla when you speak, remember you don't know me
Save all the hatin' and the poppin', nigga you don't know me
Quit tellin' niggaz you my partna, nigga you don't know me

Don't be a groupie, keep it movin', nigga you don't know me
Hey I ain't trippin' pimp, the truth is really, you don't know me
Yeah, you know they call me T.I., but you don't know me
You be hatin' and I see why, 'cause you don't know me

You see a nigga hatin' on a G, ask 'em what it's gon be
Whachu lookin' at? Pussy nigga, you don't know me
At the club or in the streets, or wherever we should meet
It's choppas choppin', pistols poppin', nigga you don't know me

You see a nigga hatin' on a G, ask 'em what it's gon be
Whachu lookin' at? Pussy nigga, you don't know me
At the club or in the streets, or wherever we should meet
It's choppas choppin', pistols poppin', nigga you don't know me

You mighta seen me in the streets but nigga, you don't know me
When you holla when you speak, remember you don't know me
Save all the hatin' and the poppin', nigga you don't know me
Quit tellin' niggaz you my partna, nigga you don't know me

Don't be a groupie, keep it movin', nigga you don't know me
Hey I ain't trippin' pimp, the truth is really, you don't know me
Yeah, you know they call me T.I., but you don't know me
You be hatin' and I see why, 'cause you don't know me

Play the MP3 online for free!

761395fe2687ebfd495ebad8ea792cb9

Black Magic - Lyrics - Styles

Title: Black Magic
Artist: Styles
Composer(s): David Styles, A Smith, A Maman

Lyric:
You

Wha, wha, yeah
It's like a team over here daddy
One for all, and one for one
(Let it flow, flow, flow, ahh yeah)
If it ain't that then it ain't right
If you be knowin' that, you'll be aight

My heart goes out to the homeless and poor
And my niggas in the bing that didn't go to the board
Wit a 25 to L on your back, the shit is too cold
And for the kids that didn't get they school clothes
For the Gods that lost they earth
The world's a song, you'll get it back, you just lost your verse
It's P verse the demons, that's why I'm feenin' for weed
'Cuz I don't wanna forfeit first
I could even bust my gun and do some office work

But I still wanna off this jerk
(Shit)
I can't leave it out my rhymes
(Why)
'Cuz it be part of my dreams to see 20 porsches murk
Three houses for the family, two for the niggas
When I die I was true to the niggas
(True soldier)
And I never practice voodoo
But it's like 'Black magic' how I spit this fluid to niggas

How do you move on his way
When taking all this stress and pain
There's gotta be a better way
There's gotta be a better way, yeah

If I should give up hope today
P won't you help me find my way
All I really want is to live my life
So we can just get high, yeah, yeah

Ask God when he stoppin' the pain
A fiend got a shoelace on his arm and he poppin' his vein
And the needle look dirty but I'm close to reaching thirty
And the only thing I know it's a profit to gain
I might cry but I'm still cold
I might be cold but I still cry and bottomline I'ma still die
I can see the doors openin' now
I can see the ghost floatin' around
That's why P come down with the potenest sound

Spit the shit that'll open the ground
(Crack the ground)
My third eye got a horoscope
(See it all)
So if you wanna know my horoscope, listen to the bars I wrote
Build and destroy
Come through the strip wit, bricks of the girl and keys of the boy
'Cuz all I really want
(What)
Was a gun and blunt, a lil money and some keys to a toy

How do you move on his way
When taking all this stress and pain
There's gotta be a better way
There's gotta be a better way, yeah

If I should give up hope today
P won't you help me find my way
All I really want is to live my life
So we can just get high, yeah, yeah

My whole life been a sacrifice
So if my nigga need my help he ain't never gotta ask me twice
I'm the nigga you could kick it wit
You gotta spot you wanna rob, I'm the nigga you could stick it wit
I'm in the studio, I'm droppin' pain on the beat
I'm famous indeed, but those is two differences
They tryin' to understand me, but I overstand 'em
I'm the flowin' phanthom, til' we blowin' random
And to my corner niggas holdin' cannons

That want the money and jewels and everything
'Cuz we so demanding to the hoes that think I'm handsome
That know a gangster when she see one ma
Yeah, money that's the anthem
Callin' niggas like that's the ransom
You could take 'em, you could leave 'em
But your man ain't a happy camper
If P flowin' then that's the cancer
Holiday the hottest shit point blank, dog, that's the answer

How do you move on his way
When taking all this stress and pain
There's gotta be a better way
There's gotta be a better way, yeah

If I should give up hope today
P won't you help me find my way
All I really want is to live my life
So we can just get high, yeah, yeah

How do you move on his way
When taking all this stress and pain
There's gotta be a better way
There's gotta be a better way, yeah

If I should give up hope today
P won't you help me find my way
All I really want is to live my life
So we can just get high, yeah, yeah

Play the MP3 online for free!

dbdf2dd5d9ab44b308a538995ccb7506

Let Me Hit That - Lyrics - Three 6 Mafia

Title: Let Me Hit That
Artist: Three 6 Mafia
Composer(s): Paul Beauregard, Darnell Carlton, Jordan Houston, Booker Hunt

Lyric:
This is the song of all songs this like a weed song
A blow song, a 'Surp' song
Like wrapped all in to one ma'fuckin song
Shit I mean you could play this shit at a weddin'

Play this shit at a barbeque
You could play this shit at a restaurant
At a fuckin' school
I mean this is the song of all songs

Let me hit that nigga, let me hit that weed
Let me sniff that nigga, let me sniff that P
Let me sip that nigga, let me sip that lean
'Cause I'm a fiend nigga fuck with me

Let me hit that nigga, let me hit that weed
Let me sniff that nigga, let me sniff that P
Let me sip that nigga, let me sip that lean
'Cause I'm a fiend nigga fuck with me

I'm a mothafuckin' fiend for that Mary Jane
And if you got it than you got me man
I promised my smokin' is out of the frame
And I ain't gon' even try to play ya man

Can ya let me get some weed see my check ain't came?
And a nigga like me I ain't playin' games
I need that Mary Jane, I need that Mary Jane
Like a junkie need crack run through the veins

See niggas takin' pills, I mean they poppin' 'em man
But can y'all niggas code name some names
Who holla perkacin' we holla X man?
I pop a full bottle now I'm outta the frame

See if you got sales then you got game
Now all you need now is a freaky lil' thang
To get on her knees and bless ya thang
This hard hittin nigga will make ya smoke it man

Let me hit that nigga, let me hit that weed
Let me sniff that nigga, let me sniff that P
Let me sip that nigga, let me sip that lean
'Cause I'm a fiend nigga fuck with me

Let me hit that nigga, let me hit that weed
Let me sniff that nigga, let me sniff that P
Let me sip that nigga, let me sip that lean
'Cause I'm a fiend nigga fuck with me

I swear gettin' high in the '05 is too high
And plus now I got three kinds I gotta buy
I heard back in the day you gotta pay to play
But that and a lot of weed will make ya mask your pace

So you go out and get it ya gotta have it can't leave without it
You doubt it ya hit it ya outty bout to dream about it
And that's a promise that you can believe if you got cheese
Ya outta cheese three different kinds of weed

We get high on a daily regular basis
We get drunk all shook we in the matrix
My vision's slurred from the sizzurp I'm crazy
I wanna have a Whoopi Goldberg, baby

I mean she got it good she whole and is a lady
I put a bag over her face 'cause it don't phase me
I'm just a gigolo just tryin to get a baby
Maybe it's the drugs I'll tell ya you can't play me

Let me hit that nigga, let me hit that weed
Let me sniff that nigga, let me sniff that P
Let me sip that nigga, let me sip that lean
'Cause I'm a fiend nigga fuck with me

Let me hit that nigga, let me hit that weed
Let me sniff that nigga, let me sniff that P
Let me sip that nigga, let me sip that lean
'Cause I'm a fiend nigga fuck with me

Play the MP3 online for free!

f5ca545534c09699687af81b2b3a7c49

Z - 8 Miles And Running - Lyrics - Jay

Title: Z - 8 Miles And Running
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Luis Resto, Leslie Pridgen, Shawn Carter, Marshall B Iii Mathers

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

Lyric:
Yeah, Renegades is back
Em the B the sick
It's Young, Freeway, 8 Miles, let's go

8 miles and running, got my 7th album droppin'
And my 8th album comin', feedin' a thousand growlin' stomachs
But I can rewind the calendar back, back when it was now or nothin'
People said I would amount to nothin' that I had talent for nothin'

Said I would succumb to violence or be silenced by your gunmen
I could just hear the folks now, "He got what he had coming"
Now that my eighth album's comin' everybody's smilin'
Wantin' something, claimin' that they done something for him

Got their Jay-Z pom poms and their whole uniform
Claimin' they been runnin' and tellin' everybody like Martin Lawrence
'Bout how hot my rap performance was before I was who I was
Claimin' that they threw it up before I threw it up

You what? Where was you before I blew this up?
I didn't see you in the courtroom when everybody was suin' us
I didn't see you in all black when everybody was suitin' up
Back on the block, gettin' it in, there wasn't no you with us

8 miles and runnin', got my 7th album droppin'
And my 8th album comin', feedin' a thousand growlin' stomachs, Free
6 miles and runnin', got my fist strip poppin'
And my first album comin', feedin' twenty growlin' stomachs

8 miles and runnin', got my 7th album droppin'
And my 8th album comin', feedin' a thousand growlin' stomachs, Free
6 miles and runnin', got my fist strip poppin'
And my first album comin', feedin' twenty growlin' stomachs

6 miles and running in the Pontiac, six thousand eighty six, trans
Might shift while the engine run
Anyone tell ya rider give me one more chance
Hear them smokers screamin' one more gram so I'ma bring 'em one

Homie, son, and my pop, stick close to my momma
Keep toasters for drama, mix a lot with my son
My son growin' and he learnin' a lot
That's when them toasters will the burners will pop, brain on ya own

Well, a nigga, tell 'em niggas that's like the biblical scripture
Look back, turn assault like the sin is in
Most of ya heartless and self-centered like
Me Shaq and me Shaq

Set up ya brother 'cuz you jealous nigga, the heat back
Like you never left, I ever rep, cops watch every step
Six miles and running dodgin' every trap, the rap gingerbread man
Cheer us up, you precious breath, State P the second attack

8 miles and runnin', got my 7th album droppin'
And my 8th album comin', feedin' a thousand growlin' stomachs, Free
6 miles and runnin', got my fist strip poppin'
And my first album comin', feedin' twenty growlin' stomachs

8 miles and runnin', got my 7th album droppin'
And my 8th album comin', feedin' a thousand growlin' stomachs, Free
6 miles and runnin', got my fist strip poppin'
And my first album comin', feedin' twenty growlin' stomachs

Back when nobody would found he had talent, nobody would sign me
Nobody believed in me, nobody but mommy blindly
But how can she deny me? Me being the youngest runt
To come up outta her tummy, she got nothin' but love for me

When niggas would want me, the industry shunned me
That's why I'm takin' all the industry's money, revenge is sweet honey
We run this, Young is the illest, Free is the future
Bean's and Bleek is right now, we can see our 8 miles nigga

8 miles and runnin', got my 7th album droppin'
And my 8th album comin', feedin' a thousand growlin' stomachs, Free
6 miles and runnin', got my fist strip poppin'
And my first album comin', feedin' twenty growlin' stomachs

8 miles and runnin', got my 7th album droppin'
And my 8th album comin', feedin' a thousand growlin' stomachs, Free
6 miles and runnin', got my fist strip poppin'
And my first album comin', feedin' twenty growlin' stomachs

Play the MP3 online for free!

c537747673b2cad5b4cf13ae804d376e

Meal Ticket - Lyrics - Master P

Title: Meal Ticket
Artist: Master P
Composer(s): Eight Ball Percy Miller, Mjg Raymond Poole, Ug

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

Lyric:
My potna gave me fifty dollar, put me in the game
I been slangin' weed then I moved up to cane
Pushin' dem bouldas, slangin' dem quarters
I got 'em 2 for 3, God dammit, I'm a balla

Pushin' in weight from state to state
Niggaz ridin' dirty on my mobile phone, it's UGK
Pimp C said, "P, what's really goin' on?"
I said, "What's really happenin?" He said, "I gotta pocket full of stones"

Now P, be dat new kid on the block
36 OZ's choppin' up rocks in my rock shop
And label me a drug deala, just anotha hard nigga
Rest in peace to 2Pac and the rest of y'all thug niggas

Playaz hookin' up, tryin' to make work
Sendin' work from FedEx to UPS trucks
Now P livin' lavish, caviar and cabbage
Peppers and beans and grits and cabbage

Down south hustlin', ballin', slangin'
Niggaz teamin' up, some niggaz gang bangin'
Used to drink 40s, now it's mo whet
Used to roll cutlass, now it's Benz's and vets

Beckett on my fingaz, Rolex watches
Hoes on the block, bounce that ass, I mean pussy poppin'
Label me an alien, just like Outkast
'Cause I made my money from the ghetto and I did it fast

'Cause I'm 'bout it, y'all know I'm rowdy
Ask Big Mo and John Henry if y'all doubt it
Hooked up with 8-ball and MJG
'Cause we tryin' to get a meal ticket from these streets

Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket

Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket

8-ball and MJG, south side representin'
A nigga came to mention these hoes can't touch my pimpin'
Mobbin' through the swamp, P and me and G and UGK
Somethin' that a muthafucka fuck, what these hoes say?

'Cause we each be lookin for meal tickets, witches drivin' me crazy
Lady, can I claim yo' baby? Honey, call me the Shady, maybe
Construct the thinkin', we're turnin' to duckies bankin'
No laws somebody save me a slice of meat up in my grave

Captain save 'em, pay 'em, before you get to lay 'em
Got a real nigga's job, so damn hard tryin to play 'em
Weigh em, no weigh me, cause that's what they gon' pay me
Pimpin' ain't dead baby, just ask MJG

Who be I? MJG, he be me but if I was he
And you was I, who would you see? One of us is just
That when ya hungry, I do it only, pertainin' bustas
Fakes, and phonies, about that money, where my ticket?

Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket

Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket

Cocaine lady, white lady, sellin' good
I'm leanin' on the leather and I'm grippin' on the wood
I'm feelin' on the great ballin' in the slant back
I'm Pimp C, bitch and Tree, us niggaz roll Cadillac

Bad ass bitches can't leave my dick alone
I done 'bout me a key and changed my name to James Jones
Pimpin' ain't dead, ya heard what I said? How the fuck is pimpin' dead?
Qhen bitches still givin' me head? Lickin' my ass if he'd be the deala

Suck the nut up out a [Incomprehensible] bucket slow down suave nigga
Now bitch I be the prison pushin' everythin'
A 4 for 4 doors, king of the quarters
Fuckin' with nothin' but queens and they daughters

Get cleansed, weeded, and watered, I flow like a Asian, Malaysian
Saudi Arabian, African I be blazin' in the Golden Gate, swish it out
Holdin' weight, I hits the block, I'm rollin' bait, them fiends come out
They know they got to stole the cake, I motivate

Fiends dealas, ballas, hatas, shops and boppas
Jekyll and Hyde, Bonnie and Clyde, and niggaz
That ride with glocks and choppas where we out

Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket

Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket

Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket

Play the MP3 online for free!

90fe7fcc98df1cacd884cc1c9c73027f

Spread Love - Lyrics - Murda Muzik - Mobb Deep

Title: Spread Love
Album: Murda Muzik
Artist: Mobb Deep
Composer(s): Albert J Johnson, Kejuan W Muchita

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

Lyric:
Ahh haa
Yea yea
Ahh haa

First of all, we the one and only infamous
Everybody wanna use the name
Soundin' all blame
We come up in the party
With them shanks and things
Have you curled up on the floor
Feelin' the pain
And nine times outta ten
We ain't even start the shit
We finish it
Then they wanna press charges
Plus everybody and their mother
Wanna act tough
'Til they discover how fast a nigga
Leave them under white covers
Was a thumper
Till he met the forty thunder

Now I feel strange
When I walk by his mother
It's fucked up
That's how the ball bounce
The cookie crumbles
That's what the guns do
Dead you, on the humble
But God forgive me
Niggas tryin' to hit me
What I'm supposed to do
You talk about my life
And a nigga got a lot to loose
So I, tuck the heaters
Then proceed to move
We a mob for real
You an example

You should spread love not war
'Cause my shit is poppin'
And I'd be God damned if you shot me
You should spread love not war
'Cause you won't feel safe
Comin' out your crib, knowin' that we got beef
You should spread love not war
Just think about your kids
How they need you alive for your guidance
You should spread love not war
'Cause death hurts whole families
(Yea, yea)
Imagine it's your mom that grieves

Two in the neck
Yes you will, if you
Not feelin' me yet
Outta respect
Can't stand it man
You niggas is sex
Sweatin' hard ain't do shit
But run your list
But when a nigga get confronted
All he do is take the fifth
Not the long, talk about the four
Niggas is raw
You ain't know, now you know
Leakin' down on the floor
Never a need for my words

Believe what you heard
Never flash a gat and go bust it
That shit is absurd
'Cause I be right back
To my brother say word
You got to drive, no doubt
I cock it bein' tougher for herbs
'Cause the, plot is power
An I do it for hours
Won't save me for a minute
Till I move on you cowards
Direct, drama to us
Infamous be the ones and we rowdy
Million dollar ballad
Make an album, get classes

You should spread love not war
'Cause my shit is poppin'
And I'd be God damned if you shot me
We should spread love not war
'Cause you won't feel safe
Comin' out your ass, knowin' that we got beef
You should spread love not war
Just think about your kids
How they need you alive for their guidance
We should spread love not war
'Cause death hurts whole families
Imagine it's your mom that grieves

Look around your
Surrounded by the M O B
B D E E P
Infamous niggas rep
Queens bridge housing P's
My dunns come through
With the big long chains
Plus we got guns, to blow your brains
Niggas learn when they feel the pain
Know what sayin'?
Straight like that
Standin' ovation with Max
We clap niggas for less
Splash niggas for laughs
Shift the game
Raise your odds

I need ninety three thousand
For sixteen bars
Put out the movie
The hoods rush the stores
Seven hundred thousand
From out the doors
We the most thorough
Need I say more?
The hoes love the morgue
'Cause we so raw
Handcuff you whore
When P come through the scene
Glowin' like a black light
On white clothin

You should spread love not war
'Cause my shit is poppin'
And I'd be God damned if you shot me
We should spread love not war
'Cause you won't feel safe
Comin' out your ass, knowin' that we got beef
We need to spread love not war
Just think about your kids
How they need you alive for their guidance
You should spread love not war
'Cause death hurts whole families
Imagine it's your mom that grieves

You should spread love not war
'Cause my shit is poppin'
And I'd be God damned if you shot me
You should spread love not war
'Cause you won't feel safe
Comin' out your ass, knowin' that we got beef
We need to spread love not war
Just think about your kids
How they need you alive for their guidance
You should spread love not war
'Cause death hurts whole families
Imagine it's your mom that grieves

You should spread love not war
'Cause my shit is poppin'
And I'd be God damned if you shot me
You should spread love not war
'Cause I don't give a fuck
(Nigga what's up)
(War)
We need to spread love not war

Play the MP3 online for free!

6693b6c7642ec47ba7ef014d8acc0e0e

Bounce Bitch - Lyrics - The Understanding - Memphis Bleek

Title: Bounce Bitch
Album: The Understanding
Artist: Memphis Bleek
Composer(s): Mike Sandlofer, Malik Cox

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

Lyric:
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Y'all ain't ready for this shit
Y'all ain't ready
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Let's go, yo

You ho's know I stay jig, Roc wear sweat suits
Type to pull up on your block 2G Benz coupe
and you know I ain't even got to spit no game
I just show you the chain, then I'm gettin' some brain
Hit it left, right, left like I'm bouncin' with drama
Just light up a light put that glow on the arm
I let you sip Don, If the Cris' too strong
Once the bitch drunk then she showin' that thong

As we proceed got her rollin' the weed
Hydro eyes low on our way to the p's
Ya'll know I go I be nervy than deez
Niggas who scheme, niggas who be tryin' to get Bleek
So you know I keep the heat, I be ready to creep
Nine low, bright though get a quick thirteen
Violate you'll see, you can die this week
Motherfucker I don't play, I get this cream, jigga

Bounce bitch, let's get it poppin'
You fuckin' with this thug
Who love to go shoppin'
Love to cop jewels to light up my crew
So bitch act right, you could light up to, but

Bounce bitch, let's get it poppin
You fuckin' with this thug
Who know, when they're watchin'
You know I ain't frontin', show me somethin'
Bitch, you act right, I might buy you somethin'

Ayo, you know the wife, she the type you ain't seen duke
She love a thug when he dressed in them jean suits
Wifebeaters, with that ice that blin' duke
She know the Memph, get deep in her spleen duke
I keep her jig 'cause I send her through Nine West
Your bitch bad but I keep mine dressed nigga, Gucci shoes
Fendi bags and shit, princess cut's briggets all that classy shit
And you know next step, now she givin' me head

6 am fuck it we could do it again and I'm a Juvenile bitch
So back that ass up
You drink, I'ma Cognac your ass up
What's your life like
I'm about my ends so get your peeps, I got a couple of friends
And I'ma tear it up shit
Smoke an ounce and I'm gone
If the cat tight, fuck it Memph leavin' tomorrow

Bounce bitch, let's get it poppin'
You fuckin' with this thug
Who love to go shoppin'
Love to cop jewels to light up my crew
So bitch act right, you could light up to, but

Bounce bitch, let's get it poppin'
You fuckin' with this thug
Who know, when they're watchin'
You know I ain't frontin', show me somethin'
Bitch, you act right, I might buy you somethin'

So bounce
You know her, bounce
Y'all know her, yeah
Y'all know her, yeah
So bounce
It's pastiche, you know with this thugers
Let her go shoppin'

Play the MP3 online for free!

031ca329df2dc8fb7a82430775143d17

Keep It Movin - Lyrics - So Uncool - Keke Palmer

Title: Keep It Movin
Album: So Uncool
Artist: Keke Palmer
Composer(s): Dametrice Cilek, Mischke Butler, John Stary, Jeffrey P Allen

Lyric:
Alright y'all
It's Keke P, huh I'm flappin'
We doin' it real big, uh huh

The wait is over, it's summertime
You feel the heat
Go on and wear your stunna shades
It's me, it's Big Meech

A couple young superstars
Me and Keke P
We got 'em movin'
From the beach to the street, ay

Woke up in the mornin? and I see the sunshine
Only got the summertime on my mind
My girls and I, we kick it all the time
Only got the summertime on my mind

We keep it movin'
We keep it movin'
We keep it movin'

Everybody know that school's out
No doubt, you know this one goes out
To all of my homies
It's what we've been waitin? for

It's 92 outside
Let's make our move
And get into a little something

Radio's blastin'
Let's make this happen
Homies and shawtys
Stand up, let?s get this party on

Let's do this now
Be young and proud
Show ?em how we hold it down
Get it, get it

312, yeah, they know how to juke it
212 and 310, about to twerk it
Get, get, get it, come on now, it's goin' down
Everybody feelin' just fine, summertime

Woke up in the mornin? and I see the sunshine
Only got the summertime on my mind
My girls and I, we kick it all the time
Only got the summertime on my mind

We keep it movin'
We keep it movin'
We keep it movin'

And 106th and Park gon? come on
And my favorite joint's on
It's a block party
So don't be afraid to lose control

It's all about you
Do what it do
Can't nobody tell us nothing

Well, I love hip hop music
Let's go ahead and do this
Homies and shawtys
Stand up, let?s get this party on

We doin? it now
Be young and proud
Let's go and show them how
We get it, get it

312, yeah, they know how to juke it
212 and 310, about to twerk it
Get, get, get it, come on now, it's goin' down
Everybody feelin' just fine, summertime

Woke up in the mornin? and I see the sunshine
Only got the summertime on my mind
My girls and I, we kick it all the time
Only got the summertime on my mind

We keep it movin'
We keep it movin'
We keep it movin'

Okay, it's summertime ?bout to party like a rock star
A couple months speedin? by like a hot car
?Cause time flies when you havin' fun
So hit the flow and try to find yourself a summer love

But me? I keep it movin? all 7 days of the week
I'm like Miami ?cause the boy always bring the heat
I got them big things poppin? like my name was TIP
Doin? tricks in the whip with Keke P and Million Dollar Kid

Woke up in the mornin? and I see the sunshine
Only got the summertime on my mind
My girls and I, we kick it all the time
Only got the summertime on my mind

We keep it movin'
We keep it movin'
We keep it movin'

Play the MP3 online for free!

dd0b15e2566f0971ddc8339d9c398471

Rock Like That - Lyrics - Reality Check - Juvenile

Title: Rock Like That
Album: Reality Check
Artist: Juvenile
Composer(s): Teruis Gray, T Freeman, Bernard Freeman

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

Lyric:
U,T, P, in the buildin'
Sinista on the' track

I'm ridin' dirty, way low to the grass
Whole hood payin' attention to me showin'
I just cooked up and the tube was fulled up
I sold my whole thang 'cause my dude and them pulled up

They talkin' about a nigga like a hurricane forecast
Boy kinda ignorant but he could move the fast
To hell with the talkin', we could go do it
The package right here, let's roll through it

I'm down South bred, that's what my mamma and my daddy say
Acts like New York and smoke the Cali way
Gutter, I hustled the corner, cuts and alleyways
Word mean nothin' to me, I'm goin' that-a-way

I got a dynasty and I ain't throwin' that away
I've been investin' my rhyme up on my strategy
And I don't feel that it's time to put the strap away
It's either that or just I'm full of that Alizae

We rock like that 'cause we rock like that
These U, T, P, we rock like that
We rock like that 'cause we rock like that
These Magnolia, we rock like that

You can get it quick to your head, homeboy
I don't think you wanna fuck with me
You can get it quick to your head, lil' mama
I don't think you wanna fuck with me

I don't cut no corners to jip for no figures
I ain't kissin' no ass to live with no nigga
I don't need this rap, bitch I'm in these streets
When Cash Money didn't pay me, I still got sleep

Get capped, you're on the phone, tell her I need the teeth
To set the nigga up to get his Jesus piece
She used to run it with Nate Dean, now she's a beast
Got her daughter sellin' for a 'G' at least

I move a lil' work, ain't nothin' to brag on
Somethin' to keep me nice and my homie to tag on
Twenty-four inch shoes on the rag on
I got poppin' in my hood and I'm that strong

Fiends keep smokin', please don't quit
You want another ?, Fiend on this
But watch it, the gun is under the shirt now
Me lead love and me will keep sendin' the work down

We rock like that 'cause we rock like that
These U, T, P niggaz we rock like that
We rock like that 'cause we rock like that
These Magnolia, we rock like that

You can get it quick to your head, homeboy
I don't think you wanna fuck with me
You can get it quick to your head, lil' mama
I don't think you wanna fuck with me

Keep it trill, keep it gangsta, pimpin' keep it hundred
Before a nigga be done got killed
And I'm the one who done it
I'm in H-Town baby, the home of the hoe sale
Where niggaz don't just give you a brick
They give you the whole deal

Drug deals goin' down at ten dollar motels
Keep it on the down-low
'Cause somebody might go tell
Like it, get you what you need, just have yo' mail
And send your people 'round here
So I can get some more sale

Know that I got more yayo that most niggaz goin'
I'm gettin' it from the same bringin' all the in
I'm 'bout to get it dropped off, I'ma let you know when
(Shit, I'm tryin' to spend like fifty wit ya, dog)
Shit, fo' sho' then

Bring your money with you, counted and wrapped up
And move like you 'sposed to be movin' because we strapped up
Don't get yourself clapped up for no reason
'Cause we won't hesitate
When it come down to the squeezin'

We rock like that 'cause we rock like that
These Third Coast, we rock like that
'Cause we rock like that 'cause we rock like that
These rap, a, lot, we rock like that

You can get it quick to your head, homeboy
I don't think you wanna fuck with me
You can get it quick to your head, lil' mama
I don't think you wanna fuck with me

Play the MP3 online for free!

1056a5b16fee793b9e15b4c4578231aa

Uptown Thang (Wait'N On Your Picture) - Lyrics - B.G.

Title: Uptown Thang (Wait'N On Your Picture)
Artist: B.G.
Composer(s): Christopher Noel Dorsey, Bryon O Thomas

Lyric:
It's an uptown thang nigga
From the 3 to the 13th

As I proceed to hit the muthafuckin' weed
I be givin' you exactly what you need
To bob your head, 'cuz I know you likes to bob it
Back and forward to what that nigga Fresh droppin'

Music that's non-stoppin', p-poppin' for the hoes
Gangsta ass shit, for the nigga smokin' opthimals
You know we gets busy Uptown is the clique
Big Boy can't fuck 'wit us, 'cuz Cash Money is the shit

I represent, real ass niggas fa sho
From the Mac to the Melph to the Calio
Up in the Clara, V.L., the shit in between
Bout green can't forget about Josephine

Know what I mean? Don't get caught in none of those areas
Or six people will carry ya, niggas will bury ya
Bitch, I thought you knew? You can't fuck with me
The B.G., you want me find me

In the U.P.T., with the 2, 2, 3
Ready to bust back nigga feel me
Here's the fuckin' deal, gotta keep it real
Gotta holla at gangsta Hot boy hard to kill

Magnolia in effect, six co fa sho
My girl Shavonda in effect smoke somethin' fa sho
I'ma let my nutts hang, bang or get banged
For life, I thought you knew that it's an uptown thang pussy

Uptown got 'cha catchin' up the guard quicker
They got a T-shirt waitin' on yo fuckin' picture
Uptown got 'cha catchin' up the guard quicker
They got a T-shirt waitin' on yo fuckin' picture

I represent to the fullest, Uptown's the shit
And the clique I'm in with nigga 2, 2, 6
I keep it real for the real
So the real could feel what I feel about my grill

Them raps, is worth a mil
You get killed if you get caught up with me in gangsta shit
When I say Uptown brings it you experience
Commence upon the drama that I present clown

I'm uncomfortable, if in a town that's not Uptown
Get down with all that huntin', my trigga finga glad
To wrap around the K and put some fire on that ass
My nigga Yella bad but Baby G. even worse

You ridin' in a hearse, if I grab and start clickin' first
Headbusta Big Mo out that CP3
Calliope, home of that dope, nigga U.P.T.
St. Thomas got that torture, bad since '25
That Fuji powered niggas just do it a Worldwide

I'm high till I die, think I'm fake nigga try
I'm off of Texas cheddar wit U.G.K. smokin' fry
Them Lite Riders, you run up, I told 'ja I let 'em hang
Bang or get banged nigga it's an uptown thang

Uptown got 'cha catchin' up the guard quicker
They got a T-shirt waitin' on yo fuckin' picture
Uptown got 'cha catchin' up the guard quicker
They got a T-shirt waitin' on yo fuckin' picture

Once again it's me representin', comin' straight from the streets
Of the U.P.T., it's me, the Cash money B.G.
Lettin' you know make it relate, fuck you up with the flows
Tell her how it goes, niggas slip see how fast I show we ain't hoes

So recognize, I keep it real, for my niggas
Most niggas who feel us is real Uptown niggas
You figure, because I'm younger, that you harder
Well, keep ya head up or busta it's man slaughter

Is you ready?
To come swim in the water with the sharks
In the dark? You not bitch I can see it in your heart
You'z a hoe

So stay on your side of the field
On tha real slip on tha banana peel get killed
Stop playin', before I start sprayin' I done told ya
I'll take it off ya shoulder I'm a Uptown solja

So what's happenin'? I'm fuckin' wit' that S.T.P.
So what's happenin'? I'm fuckin' wit' that 1, 2, 3
So what's happenin'? I'm fuckin' wit' that 17
It's understood that I'll die for that wild 13

So keep it real, I'm chillin' wit' that World War 2
Representin', I'm gone wit' that 11th ward crew
I smoke weed put a little dope and let my nutts hang
To the end, I'm here to tell ya it's an Uptown thang

Uptown got 'cha catchin' up the guard quicker
They got a T-shirt waitin' on yo fuckin' picture
Uptown got 'cha catchin' up the guard quicker
They got a T-shirt waitin' on yo fuckin' picture

Play the MP3 online for free!

f50715665c9dea50f6d758ba14fe2373

Salt Shaker (Remix) - Lyrics - Ying Yang Twins

Title: Salt Shaker (Remix)
Artist: Ying Yang Twins
Composer(s): Eric Jackson, Jonathan H Smith, Craig D Love, D'Angelo Holmes

Lyric:
Shawty crunk on the floor wide open, speak so much
They call her Billy ocean, row like eighteen wheeler
That hoe find but this hoe killer
She leakin', she's soak and wet, she leakin', soak and wet
Shake it like a salt shaker, shake it like a salt shaker
Shake it like a salt shaker, shake it like a salt shaker

P poppin' till you percolate
First booty on duty. no time to wait
Make it work, with your wet T-shirt
Bitch you gotta shake it till your camel starts to hurt

Say the heals on your feet or the strap around your ankle
Call that big bow jangle
Juicy like fruit or dosh like coup Deville
Used to get loose on the goose for real

Five dollars, get your ass a table dance
If you got ten then bring a friend
Hoe shake your ass to the song then
If you ain't with it then we gone then

We ain't no boys, we grown men
If you ain't gon' dance then don't then
Why you wanna waste a niggaz song?
Then see your ass down doin' nothin'

Shawty crunk on the floor wide open, speak so much
They call her Billy ocean, row like eighteen wheeler
That hoe find but this hoe killer
She leakin', she's soak and wet, she leakin', soak and wet
Shake it like a salt shaker, shake it like a salt shaker
Shake it like a salt shaker, shake it like a salt shaker

Face the wall shawty, put your hands on it
Bounce that ass up and down make a nigga want it
Face the wall shawty, put your hands on it
Bounce that ass up and down make a nigga want it

Roll that ass round and round like a motherfuckin' wheel
Shake that shit, this ain't no motherfuckin' drill
Roll that ass round and round like a motherfuckin' wheel
Shake that shit, this ain't no motherfuckin' drill

Get crunk with it, get loose with it
Like short said, let Bruce Bruce hit it
Get crunk with it, get loose with it
Like short said, let Bruce Bruce hit it

Shake that ass real fast then stop, aw shit
Shake that ass real fast then stop, aw shit
Shake that ass real fast then stop, aw shit
Shake that ass real fast then stop, aw shit

Shawty crunk on the floor wide open, speak so much
They call her Billy ocean, row like eighteen wheeler
That hoe find but this hoe killer
She leakin', she's soak and wet, she leakin', soak and wet
Shake it like a salt shaker, shake it like a salt shaker
Shake it like a salt shaker, shake it like a salt shaker

Shake it like a dollar five or ten
But what would you do for a twenty twen
Get on the stage shake that ass then
Get on the pole do a back ban

I like that do it again
Here's another ten bitch do it again
Work like a game that you playin' to win
Make that pussy fart for the Ying Yang Twins

Sixteen bitches in thongs in one club
The home of the fifth rate bones and butts
[Unverified] bitches splittin' all over the floor
Hornafy, can't deny, certified pro

On the poll upside down, this shit for real
Sixty-nine plenty time will pay a bill
At day she a clerk but night she turn stripper
You're not even dated, you're just tryin' to tip her

Shawty crunk on the floor wide open, speak so much
They call her Billy ocean, row like eighteen wheeler
That hoe find but this hoe killer
She leakin', she's soak and wet, she leakin', soak and wet
Shake it like a salt shaker, shake it like a salt shaker
Shake it like a salt shaker, shake it like a salt shaker

Play the MP3 online for free!

f5cd2b488e3814f3117daaf5f73f7cab

Pink Elephant - Lyrics - Rapid City Muscle Car - Cherry Poppin Daddies

Title: Pink Elephant
Album: Rapid City Muscle Car
Artist: Cherry Poppin Daddies
Composer(s): Steve Perry

Lyric:
Well, the bum was in my trash, he's pickin' out all the cans
Firewater burnin' up his poor swollen glands
The Lysol and the Listerine, it went to his head
He eats boot black rotted on a piece of white bread

He did the pink, the Pink Elephant
Blinded by the sauce you know
I'd rather stay bent

I do the pink, the Pink Elephant
Blinded by the sauce you know
I'd rather stay bent

Sleazy P. Martini ran the pink elephant
With hot-pink curtains where the sloe gin decants
A shave and a haircut, knock knock
Would for sure get you in to see the Cherry Poppin' Daddies play
The lampshades were zebra skin

We did the pink, the Pink Elephant
Blinded by the sauce you know
I'd rather stay bent

We do the pink, the Pink Elephant
Blinded by the sauce you know
I'd rather stay, rather stay bent
Yeah yeah, I'd rather stay bent

My mouth is like a circus but I'm always in debt
I'd never pass the bar unless I thought it was wet
But that's the way they sucker me to my final dissolve
But when they're set'em up I'm drinkin'em down

I do the pink, the Pink Elephant
Blinded by the sauce you know
I'd rather stay bent

I do the pink, the Pink Elephant
Blinded by the sauce you know
I'd rather stay, I'd rather stay, I'd rather stay
I'd rather stay bent, I'd rather stay bent

Play the MP3 online for free!

9b94401ecc8676f974b9095e24ac3b73

Gangstas - Lyrics - Unpredictable - Mystikal

Title: Gangstas
Album: Unpredictable
Artist: Mystikal
Composer(s): Craig D. Bazile, Calvin Cordazor Broadus, Craig Stephen Lawson, Percy Miller, Michael Tyler

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

Lyric:
No Limit Soldiers
(Ugh)
DPGC, gangstas
(Ha, ha)
Look here, you got three crazy muthafuckas

In the same place at the same time
(Yeah, Master P.)
You know this shit gon' be off the hook
(It's gon' be the wildest shit you ever heard)
For my bitches down south, southern hospitality
(Representin', ya heard me)

From the cold, hard streets of the LBC
To a duet with Mystikal and Master P
Real G's ship keys and shoot dice on their knees
And put pistols to the mouths of their enemies
Old country ass nigga with a gold in the front
Be the same muthafucka that get your bitch ass stomped

Underestimatin' hatin' got you knocked out cold
Tryin' to play my boy over, you was with your hoe
Them South niggas bangin' off the shit that we write
Punk niggas get killed, straight on sight
No Limit ain't no gimmick, it's tragic you know
So don't be meddlin' with my boy and my hoe
Lay low, hit the floor, I'm back

Yo P, take me to the streets, that's where my heart is at
You make 'em say ugh, I make 'em say beeyatch
Together we can flip the script and get grip
You got the crack, I got the bud sack
Mystikal, smack, you got the strap
Deep in that gangsta shit on a night like that
You blast me, I blast you back, beeyatch

We 'bout to jump off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit
We 'bout to hop off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit
Know what, we're 'bout to jump off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit

We 'bout to jump off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit
We 'bout to hop off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit
Know what, we're 'bout to jump off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit

Got this fuckin' party poppin'
You cappin' and army braggin'
Gon' keep smugglin' in this game shit
Niggas ain't rappin' what you say about gangsta rappin'
You get killed forever, my nigga, every day
Where you get fucked up nigga is where you lay
Time again I tried to tell you

But you ain't wanna heard what I say
Damn leather dog bombin', done made a mistake
We made sound so good
([Unverified])
Keep that gangsta shit banging up and down your hood
'Cuz only real gangstas get down and to the bottom
Where y'all going, that much, we'll see right through ya

I'll out hustle ya, can't put up a fight 'cuz I out muscle ya
My really don't give a fuck, attitude got ya feelin' uncomfortable
I got that there, nigga you ain't saying shit
I'm colder than a brand new pair of Stan Smiths
Fresher than a whole box of green Altimos
But I got to blow your head off
And put bullet holes in your Girbauds

We 'bout to jump off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit
We 'bout to hop off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit
Know what, we're 'bout to jump off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit

B O U T we 'bout it
Real gangstas live muthafuckin' rowdy
And where you from is how you come
Where you be or you're at
Fool, watch your back for these gangstas in that black from
Long Beach to New Orleans
From every nigga in the hood to the penitentiary
Tryin' to survive on these streets

Slangin' dope 'cuz the kids gotta eat
Put it in a car or a plane, Grey Hound or a train
Sixty five when it came, eighty nine when it lay
I'm in love with miss mo mo, candy painted four
Twenty skirt with convertible, fuckin' polo
Bring the stylins of your talk, I mean real gangstas don't talk
Free your mind and refugee
Alive and turn your cheeks like Pras be

We 'bout to jump off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit
We 'bout to hop off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit
Know what, we're 'bout to jump off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit

We 'bout to jump off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit
We 'bout to hop off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit
Know what, we're 'bout to jump off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit

We 'bout to jump off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit
We 'bout to hop off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit
Know what, we're 'bout to jump off with some gangsta shit
Gangsta shit
...

Play the MP3 online for free!

914e688ead50e0db7bfdd8c1b65977cd