Paint Your Target - Lyrics - Grand Unification - Fightstar

Title: Paint Your Target
Album: Grand Unification
Artist: Fightstar
Composer(s): Dan Haigh, Charles Robert Simpson, Omar Abidi, Alex Westaway

Lyric:
You hide it every time you miss
Impatience waits around for me
You dance under the question mark
Without even trying

I'm just not sure it's gonna work
I'm just not sure it's gonna work

You can burn it all
Rally around the table
If you want to
Just to argue out the last scenes of us

You can end it all
I'm sorry enough to tell you
That I?m okay
And I'm never gonna see you again

The killers walking amongst us
Look around, they'll find your ashes
You tread all over your mistakes
And every heart you'll never break

I'm just not sure it's gonna work
I'm just not sure it's gonna work

You can burn it all
Rally around the table
If you want to
Just to argue out the last scenes of us

You can end it all
I'm sorry enough to tell you
That I?m okay
And I'm never gonna see you again, again
I'll can't see you

You stumble through questions
That you could never answer
That barrel is loaded
So go and paint your target

You stumble through questions
That you could never answer
That barrel is loaded
So go and paint your target

So elegant you stagger round
(You can burn it all)
(Rally around the table)
With beautiful falls
(If you want to)
(Just to argue out the last scenes of us)

So elegant you stagger round
(You can end it all)
(I'm sorry enough to tell you)
With beautiful falls
(That I?m okay)

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6bff91d898b951ff2467fc0dd5a7c560

Lo - Glockappella - Lyrics - Cee

Title: Lo - Glockappella
Artist: Cee
Composer(s): Henderson Thigpen, James Banks, Eddie Marion, Thomas Callaway

Lyric:
Brother, you've been on my mind, oh brother
We've changed over time, so, brother, I'm keeping my eyes on you
I bet you don't think I know no better but sanging the blues
Oh but brother have I got news for you, I'm something
And I know you know that I'm something too

Yeah, usually I don't get into all this battle rap shit
And all that shit's stupid but I'm gonna address it
And after I get it off my chest may God bless it
I will invest four minutes exactly for everyone
Who had the audacity to attack me

I kept quiet but perhaps I should have pushed this fire quicker
'Cause to just sit with this shit I've only gotten sicker
Yet I react without even a crack in my composure
But the only way he knows to bring this shit to a closure

I'm worthy and my associates and I named the South Dirty
And I'm even for sale in Braille, the deaf, dumb and blind have heard me
But I ain't even breathin' until I get an even 30
I could casually clap up the front of somebody's throwback jersey

You makin' me hafta talk this way, ain'tcha?
You makin' me hafta talk this way
You forcin' me to walk this way
Maybe my album will get bought this way

Niggaz slow down around me, I make 'em superstitious
And one of my vices used to be wanting to look visually vicious
But instead I use my head and I fed niggaz something nutritious
But you will appreciate what a sacrifice this is

And I know you ambitious young men, you have my best wishes
Have a piece of this pain on a platter, it's one of my best dishes
When you assassinate my character, not one remark misses
So it's gone get funky when I'm fryin' these little fishes

Fuck fakin', there has been some offense taken
But this itty bitty beef is, beneath me like bacon
But hear me when when I say, I ain't gone hate you halfway
You know me, somebody will surely owe me

When it comes to respect, I only put my family before me
And the beat ridin', oh so slowly but surely and you in danger
And I'll be strict about straight every one of you niggaz like strangers
I'll put bullet holes in anything that oppose through car doors and clothes

Amateurs and pros, hard-head niggaz and hoes, also friends and foes
Let it be known that you'll lose your life fucking around with Lo
This is my Glockapella and I'll be wearing diamonds forever
Like I'm signed to Roc-a-fella and I'ma bust two times in the sky

'Cause ain't nobody around here ready to die
But if there's more that you want, can't but one side win
And I'm damn sure ready to try motherfucker, yeah
Hold on, I'm all off the motherfucking beat, hold on

Lo crazy, Lo a'hurt somebody bad, Lo crazy, Lo a'hurt somebody dad
Decide to ride down your street and just hurt somebody bad
You know, as in house, hurt somebody's child or somebody's spouse
You see what I'm saying and you know I can be what I'm sayin'

And I got the most to lose but you steppin' on my shoes, nigga
You become a target and will remain a target until you are hit
You gone fuck around and found out that's Lo still down for it
I ain't scared of ya, never been scared of ya

If anything I'm scared for ya because I'm so ahead of ya
Take that to the head brother before I walk up on your bed brother
And paint your blood in red brother, you heard what I said, brother?
Motherfucker, I ain't mad at these niggaz, I tricked you

We got a real awful thang goin' down, getting down
There's a whole lot of talkin' going round
You best believe me before I pack up and move out of town
I will gladly gone and glock one of them down

I said, bring me the funk, I want the funk
I said, bring me the funk, give me the funk
I said bring me the funk, I can handle the funk
Just bring me the funk, bring me the funk, motherfucker

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28247ef977ea3e05930d55de3b2e22fc

Lo - Glockapella - Lyrics - Cee-Lo Green Is The Soul Machine - Cee

Title: Lo - Glockapella
Album: Cee-Lo Green Is The Soul Machine
Artist: Cee
Composer(s): Henderson Thigpen, James Banks, Eddie Marion, Thomas Callaway

Lyric:
Brother, you've been on my mind, oh brother
We've changed over time, so, brother, I'm keeping my eyes on you
I bet you don't think I know no better but sanging the blues
Oh but brother have I got news for you, I'm something
And I know you know that I'm something too

Yeah, usually I don't get into all this battle rap shit
And all that shit's stupid but I'm gonna address it
And after I get it off my chest may God bless it
I will invest four minutes exactly for everyone
Who had the audacity to attack me

I kept quiet but perhaps I should have pushed this fire quicker
'Cause to just sit with this shit I've only gotten sicker
Yet I react without even a crack in my composure
But the only way he knows to bring this shit to a closure

I'm worthy and my associates and I named the South Dirty
And I'm even for sale in Braille, the deaf, dumb and blind have heard me
But I ain't even breathin' until I get an even 30
I could casually clap up the front of somebody's throwback jersey

You makin' me hafta talk this way, ain'tcha?
You makin' me hafta talk this way
You forcin' me to walk this way
Maybe my album will get bought this way

Niggaz slow down around me, I make 'em superstitious
And one of my vices used to be wanting to look visually vicious
But instead I use my head and I fed niggaz something nutritious
But you will appreciate what a sacrifice this is

And I know you ambitious young men, you have my best wishes
Have a piece of this pain on a platter, it's one of my best dishes
When you assassinate my character, not one remark misses
So it's gone get funky when I'm fryin' these little fishes

Fuck fakin', there has been some offense taken
But this itty bitty beef is, beneath me like bacon
But hear me when when I say, I ain't gone hate you halfway
You know me, somebody will surely owe me

When it comes to respect, I only put my family before me
And the beat ridin', oh so slowly but surely and you in danger
And I'll be strict about straight every one of you niggaz like strangers
I'll put bullet holes in anything that oppose through car doors and clothes

Amateurs and pros, hard-head niggaz and hoes, also friends and foes
Let it be known that you'll lose your life fucking around with Lo
This is my Glockapella and I'll be wearing diamonds forever
Like I'm signed to Roc-a-fella and I'ma bust two times in the sky

'Cause ain't nobody around here ready to die
But if there's more that you want, can't but one side win
And I'm damn sure ready to try motherfucker, yeah
Hold on, I'm all off the motherfucking beat, hold on

Lo crazy, Lo a'hurt somebody bad, Lo crazy, Lo a'hurt somebody dad
Decide to ride down your street and just hurt somebody bad
You know, as in house, hurt somebody's child or somebody's spouse
You see what I'm saying and you know I can be what I'm sayin'

And I got the most to lose but you steppin' on my shoes, nigga
You become a target and will remain a target until you are hit
You gone fuck around and found out that's Lo still down for it
I ain't scared of ya, never been scared of ya

If anything I'm scared for ya because I'm so ahead of ya
Take that to the head brother before I walk up on your bed brother
And paint your blood in red brother, you heard what I said, brother?
Motherfucker, I ain't mad at these niggaz, I tricked you

We got a real awful thang goin' down, getting down
There's a whole lot of talkin' going round
You best believe me before I pack up and move out of town
I will gladly gone and glock one of them down

I said, bring me the funk, I want the funk
I said, bring me the funk, give me the funk
I said bring me the funk, I can handle the funk
Just bring me the funk, bring me the funk, motherfucker

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ef6c136ed0245af73d764b93131983aa

Smokin' Dro - Lyrics - Golden Grain - Disturbing Tha Peace

Title: Smokin' Dro
Album: Golden Grain
Artist: Disturbing Tha Peace
Composer(s): Christopher Bria Bridges, Taheed Epps, Ed Greene, Arbie Wilson

Lyric:
I'm smokin' dro, choppin' O's
Beat knockin' with the big blaze choppin' nigga
I'm smokin' dro, choppin' O's
Ridin' dirty, candy paint, lookin' purty

See I'm addicted to this fast life, it's hard to slow me down
When ya, momma on the crack pipe and ya daddy ain't around
You hear the sounds of the wildest gunshots from a large clip
When we started choppin' O's off in this empty apartment

See I was, standin' in the track, and my back is the target
With a hammer on my side lookin' like I'm layin' carpets
See you flip it 'til you get it nigga, we hangin' like this cable
On my way, to I-20 nigga I gotta play in Decatur

See I'm ridin' and I'm blowin' on twenty dollar bills
'Cause we, only got that gold; you can't buy regular around here
Stayin' true to the prestige and the economic status
I still stacked 100 G's stayin' in my momma's attic

Stackin' under Kraft-matics, Willie sleepin' on the cheese
See we got ki's and the D's and the P's and TV's
And I'm ridin' in C.P. with a glock-40 as my tooley
On the block, with the top back, blowin' out that booty up

I'm smokin' dro, choppin' O's
Beat knockin' with the big blaze choppin' nigga
I'm smokin' dro, choppin' O's
Ridin' dirty, candy paint, lookin' purty

I'm smokin' dro, choppin' O's
Beat knockin' with the big blaze choppin' nigga
I'm smokin' dro, choppin' O's
Ridin' dirty, candy paint, lookin' purty

You know I-20 ridin' Regal's - cuttin' cutters
Since my wood grains got no stains; be in some other shit
A big body Chevy on the, chrome lookin' pretty
If it's dro, or the sticky I need, I'm hittin' Tity

On my system knock so loud, they call the cops on me
Ladies show that ass proud, and make it drop for me
This is how a nigga ride, in A.T.L.
And if the twelve drop pull me over, I hide the scales

Blowin' dro out the song booth, with windows tinted
Ridin' clean down Old Campbellton Road, y'all know who in it
Got my seat pushed way back, arm out the window
Niggaz quick to pull a car-jack, armed when they in [Incomprehensible]

I push a Range and my brother Fate in S.S. Impala
Ludacris, with the Escalade, and Tit' quickly follow
Gettin ready for the summer get your cars out and fix it
When it comes to that ridin' and smoke, look I'm addicted nigga

I'm smokin' dro, choppin' O's
Beat knockin' with the big blaze choppin' nigga
I'm smokin' dro, choppin' O's
Ridin' dirty, candy paint, lookin' purty

I'm smokin' dro, choppin' O's
Beat knockin' with the big blaze choppin' nigga
I'm smokin' dro, choppin' O's
Ridin' dirty, candy paint, lookin' purty

Yo, gotta get that monkey off my back, sir
I'm smokin' dro and choppin' O's up in my 'llac, sir
Where the fuck you at when them little bitty animals attack, sir?
I'm in the trap and when I get caught up in a rap-ture relax, sir

It's like cata-racts to me, ac-tually it has to be
A fac-tory of smoke and clouds I'm chok-in proud
And Rhap-sody, the sack of trees is wrote and now
So pot-ent now the track is squeezed

So clap and be happy to be nappy and snappin'
Just keep on rappin' but nobody comes af-ter me
One hit from the blunt then I stop drop, roll
Really really wanna fuck with the glock, glock? No

They so simple better hit that block, slow
On yo' mark, get get ready, set, go
You could watch this Georgia tech' blow
If I don't get some of that wet wet wet wet dro

I'm smokin' dro, choppin' O's
Beat knockin' with the big blaze choppin' nigga
I'm smokin' dro, choppin' O's
Ridin' dirty, candy paint, lookin' purty

I'm smokin' dro, choppin' O's
Beat knockin' with the big blaze choppin' nigga
I'm smokin' dro, choppin' O's
Ridin' dirty, candy paint, lookin' purty

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b8e57fcaa8e478d58b0a8856a9f48009

Return To Da Wrongside - Lyrics - Artifact

Title: Return To Da Wrongside
Artist: Artifact
Composer(s): Shawn Jones, William E Williams, Raheem Brown, Bennie Maupin

Lyric:
I was out to bomb like Vietnam but in this rhyme
I'm the prime suspect, handcuffed for stuff that I ain't hit yet
It seems the neighborhood block watch got open like a box top
Wanted they're props and called up the cops

While Momma Dukes is in the kitchen flippin'
Trippin' 'cause spray caps is missin' and I left without permission
I got bagged with the darkest black marker I had
An easy target 'cause my tag is on my book bag

As I was shadowed they musta heard the bag rattle
Tipped the cops off and ran up, before I popped the top off
Got interrogated 'bout crews I never heard of
Got my face wrote on and treated like I did a murder

Heard sermons on property value and city workshops
Slapped with a fine, now in my record there's a new notch
The misdemeanor catcher comin' back at cha
For the long ride, as we return to the wrong side

Out to burn, rackin' paints by the sack to provide
Tracks as we return to da wrongside
Art programs and more hip-hop jams, must arrive
As we return to da wrongside

More better styles and wack writers step aside
Aerosol ride, as we return to da wrongside
Newark, New Jers, Brick City we reside
Big up to BS as we return to da wrongside

Once more, we have in store graffiti folklore
In depth to score points, what this joint for?
All graffiti writers, we bring justice, to this art
We take to heart but they missed

The actual Facts, paint with fat caps
Artistic gestures, flat or gloss be the texture
If you measure the amount or count TV, shows on graf
Galleries, droppin' all the skill calories

They crackin' down to make us back down
But we still wreckin', who remember King 67?
Peace to Insta, buildin' a mad tag in December
Protective shell los for the winter

Get in the subject, on how they say we suspects
Harass me for a marker, there he goes with a Tec
Blind to see wreck, cause they ignorant to check
The true art so, they pass laws just to catch

Certain writers, most bite us anyway
L S B S, L T D is on the path subway
Try to bring an understanding, respect we're demanding
Wrongside tales, we never fail with the plannin'

Fatter jams on the air must arrive
The weak can't slide as we return to da wrongside
More joints on tape, less compromise
Better in size as we return to da wrongside

Toys bite my tags, throwups and old pieces
Thowin' crews up, they can't be down with, and catchin' beatings
Me and my crew stay close-knit
Make niggaz say, "Oh shit" about our dope shit, takin' cities in doses

With a tag here and a tag there next year
It'll be everywhere, catch me if you dare
It's rare for me not to have a marker after dark
'Cause I've been in this to win this since niggaz used to say spark

Yo, I got the black book designers and the bag
Make sure I got the uni for the on tour tag
Saying that we 'cause mad terror in the city
Kids ain't got shit so, we feels no pity
On any surface, hurtin' it, experts in it
Create with the Krylon, crafts be fantastic

Artistic misfits, gifted wicked with the sketchbook
And the paint, maintainin' the status top rank
With ink stained hands, I masterpiece master plans
With cans we came across diss some toys who crossed me off

Lost in my thought, I can walk a mile on style
It's been a while but I keep mechanicals on file for every new jack
And non-believer not knowin' my background from jump
Sleepin' 'cause they only see me with blunts

My ghetto cartoons just express how I feel
Representin' my culture and not off it is the deal
I'm so ill with skill and I'm still up to par
Not your everyday rap star, just who we are

Like conquering lions, we do our things with strong pride
For the long ride, tellin' tales from the wrongside

KRS keeps the stage show live
Sharper than knives, as we return from da wrongside
PNB Nation, no hesitation
Blazin', as we return from da wrongside

Peeps sleep, while these brothers coincide
Keep in stride, as we return from da wrongside
Comp hide, toy niggaz take a dive
Kickin' skills live, as we return from da wrongside

Uhh, it's like that
Layin' shit down on the map
Artifact crew in the house
Like this like that, so whatchu want?

For the who? You know the crew
Shawn J
Crossin' out all y'all
Wack rappin' ass motherfuckers

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469d559780ca7c3d23da9255a732b5ee

Red, Meth &Amp; B - Lyrics - Stoned Raiders - Cypress Hill

Title: Red, Meth &Amp; B
Album: Stoned Raiders
Artist: Cypress Hill
Composer(s): Louis Freese, Clifford Smith, Larry Muggerud, Reggie Noble

Lyric:
Y'all ready for this?
Ha! I don't think so
Yeah! Oh, listen to this
We gonna come at ya

Yo yo yo, all my niggas say, jump up, doc broke out the kennel
A dog on four paws spittin' out the window
Jump up! It ain't no need to fight
We may squeeze the pipe, you gonna bleed tonight

I eat beans and rice, shit up a storm
I walk the streets with shark fin off my arms
Doctor Dolittle, lit off the bone
My bracelet like I raised it off the farm

Home-grown, thick, dirty
My family feud dudes who pack 2's on survey
Jersey and house gun like an elephants snout
Pull ya ambulance out

Ya whole team'll get bombarded
Ya on target and bombed by some unsigned artists
We leave ya hair cut like a blind barber
Cut it, and gave you a line with fine markers

I won't leave till the job is done
Till the last prick nigga take ya wallet, run
Doc with the shotty and we both catch a body with Cypress Hill
Yeah!

We don't give a fuck, we live it up till the day we die
You try to deal with us, but you got no blunts to get high
You won't be real with us, but ya reelin' us and you want to ride
You try to deal with us, but you got no blunts to get high

Yo, yo, blunt smokin', half a bottle of Remi open
You either holdin' or half-assed like semi-colon
I leave ya chokin' on them lollipop, rhymes ya callin'
So hard, hell I crack the shell on ya candy coatin'

If the shoes fit like Alan I be too thick
Ever since you hit, yo my new chicks a new bitch
Ya know if I can't eat, ya can't sleep
Plus I'm in denial, I just can't admit defeat

My mind is my Glock, keep my third eye cocked
Bust mines off tops, leave a rapper's nerves shocked
Now who's hot and who's not
I want them rocks and that money in ya two socks

Meth the mister, if crime is an art, then let me paint a picture
I'm gone, Kodak can't even frame the riddler
Gold realin', Meth, doc, Cypress Hiller
Whoever think they fuckin' with that, let's be realer

We don't give a fuck, we live it up till the day we die
You try to deal with us, but you got no blunts to get high
You won't be real with us, but ya reelin' us and you want to ride
You try to deal with us, but you got no blunts to get high

Take the back seat and smash beats
Smoke blunts through ya lungs and flips ya brain cells like athletes
Run a track meet, the rhymes on ya rap sheet
With the foot long crush bong, look your collapsing, sicko

They go on the break-off, mental breakdown
And shit you wouldn't think of
I spread it to Reggie, chances are better but deadly
You wanna be friendly on the get high Bentley

You twisted up, burnt out within seconds
'Cause you couldn't hang with the John Blaze methods
Bong hittin', doc spittin', shark bitten
Star stricken, Glock clickin', stop shittin'

Inhale the smoke from the master's lungs
You wanna roll up, yo I'm the fastest one
You wanna test with the sess, well first off
That shit is funny like Kid Rock with his shirt off

We don't give a fuck, we live it up till the day we die
You try to deal with us, but you got no blunts to get high
You won't be real with us, but ya reelin' us and you want to ride
You try to deal with us, but you got no blunts to get high

We don't give a fuck, we live it up till the day we die
You try to deal with us, but you got no blunts to get high
You won't be real with us, but ya reelin' us and you want to ride
You try to deal with us, but you got no blunts to get high

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