Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Party With No Name. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Party With No Name. Sort by date Show all posts

Monday, August 16, 2010

Party With No Name - Lyrics - Bee Gees

Title: Party With No Name
Artist: Bee Gees
Composer(s): Maurice Ernest Gibb, Robin Hugh Gibb, Barry Gibb

Lyric:
Let's get started
Move in for the kill
So sincere
I'm here to bend your will
A man without a face
I give you love, you've never known

We can hold each other, sight unseen
Touchin' on our darkest dream
You can wish for somethin' bad
Lovers' lips you never had

All she wants is your love
All she wants is your love

We're the party with no name
And we go from flame to flame
We've got one claim to fame
We're the party with no name
Make those footsteps to the floor
You can't see us anymore
Ain't no time for the shame
For the party with no name

Easy money
Get yourself a job
It's my invitation
Been alone too long
A soul without a space
There ain't no name

See the truth is there, but she don't see
Her life is just a mystery
I'd give her more than I could give
I'd even die that she could live

All she wants is your love
All she wants is your love

We're the party with no name
And we go from flame to flame
We've got one claim to fame
We're the party with no name
Make those footsteps to the floor
You can't see us anymore
Ain't no time for the shame
For the party with no name

We're the party with no name
And we go from flame to flame
We've got one claim to fame
We're the party with no name
Make those footsteps to the floor
You can't see us anymore
Ain't no time for the shame
For the party with no name

We're the party with no name
And we go from flame to flame
We've got one claim to fame
We're the party with no name
Make those footsteps to the floor
You can't see us anymore
Ain't no time for the shame

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e6f9e88f52f57188072c6a352399ec54

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Ain'T No Stoppin' This - Lyrics - 14 Shots To The Dome - Ll Cool J

Title: Ain'T No Stoppin' This
Album: 14 Shots To The Dome
Artist: Ll Cool J
Composer(s): Tony Hester, M Smith, Robert Ervin, B Ervin, James Todd Smith

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

Lyric:
Party people are you with me? Party people are you with me?
Party people are you with me? Party people are you with me?
Party people are you with me? Party people are you with me?
Party people are you with me? Party people are you with me?

Newcomers, step on back and if you hid last summer
Catch a heart attack 'cause I'm back
I'm bad, you write rhymes made are blad
I'm mad 'cause they said I wasn't bad

No recognition 'cause they said I'm from the ghetto
Carryin' nine millimeters and stilettos
I guess I need a TV show to get mine
But I don't feel like kissin' no director's behind

That's too soft for L
I'ma write a rhyme fighter inside of the rebel 'Yell'
Hour jack loops and dancer troops
Watch out for the gangsta machine gun lose

Ain't no stoppin' this, nah, nah, ain't no stoppin' this
Nah, nah, ain't no stoppin' this, no way, ain't no stoppin' this
Nah, nah, ain't no stoppin' this, never, ever, no, ain't no stoppin' this
Nah, nah, ain't no stoppin' this, nah, nah, ain't no stoppin' this

Last year pop rappers got awards
And don't know a damn thing about a block party mic cord
They see LL, they know the brothers real
But the flies can tell you exactly how they feel

When I come in the door it's like I'm made of dynamite
I gotta blow up more and more
Shakin' the rafters from here on after
Puttin' an end to all the laughter

There ain't no way they can win
With the band all in plus the turntable spin
Strip searchin' competition, you can call 'em competition
But there ain't no competition 'cause I'm on a mission

I'ma rip this game, I want the soul train families
And anybody with a name, superstars step aside this year
And all you other little crumbs that wanna try to come near
I'm sick and tired of political setbacks
Too much red tape the box so forget that

Ain't no stoppin' this, ain't no stoppin' this, ain't no stoppin' this
I'm comin', ain't no stoppin' this, nah, ain't no stoppin' this
Nuh uh, no, ain't no stoppin' this, never, ever, no,
Ain't no stoppin' this, nah, nah, ain't no stoppin' this, don't stop

Party people are you with me? Party people are you with me?
Party people are you with me? Party people are you with me?
Party people are you with me? Party people are you with me?
Party people are you with me? Party people are you with me?

I started in the basement of my grandmother's house
My rap got gashed, your whole body's' gettin' doubts
Burnt to a crisp, lead from the mist
Third degree and God's my only witness

When I shocked the world, hold the prince hostage
For the diamonds and pearls Maker Mike will return
The time tellin' Madonna black love ain't a crime
I'm like a shogun, I ain't scared of no one
Born and raised in New York, that's where I come from

Ain't no stoppin' this, nah, nah, ain't no stoppin' this
Nah, nah, ain't no stoppin' this, never, ever, no, ain't no stoppin' this
Ain't no stoppin' this, nah, nah, ain't no stoppin' this
Nah, nah, ain't no stoppin' this, never, ever, no, ain't no stoppin' this

Yeah, I rip downtown, uptown
I love the way the bass sound, when I'm underground
Boulevard to boulevard, avenue to avenue, I'll be havin' you

Playin' a scene to a song so mean that'll get
Your whole car rockin' like a war machine
Neighbors downstairs call current affairs
'Cause the party got ripped and yours truly was there

Ain't no stoppin' this, 1984, ain't no stoppin' this
1985, ain't no stoppin' this, 1986, ain't no stoppin' this
1987, ain't no stoppin' this, 1988, ain't no stoppin' this
1989, ain't no stoppin' this, 1990, ain't no stoppin' this
91, ain't no stoppin' this, 92, what to do?
1993 and all that infinity, power of God rules

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475830fa8b7714741fb1664196c44e38

Sunday, August 1, 2010

40 - Where The Party At - Lyrics - The Mail Man - E

Title: 40 - Where The Party At
Album: The Mail Man
Artist: E
Composer(s): Earl Thomas Stevens, Marvin Whitemon

Lyric:
Where's the party at?

Forget it man, I can't lie
I'm drunk as a skunk but I'm nothin' funk
I shoots the game, the gift I spit
The gift of gab boy, the gift is ripped

Deal with the skill that makes ya feel it
Those who don't wanna feel it need to kill it
Knows that I can giddy go when it's time to get
On the M I C H R O P H O N E, it's me the hustler 40

With them raggedy seperaters as if it was funky
A brother like me don't hang around no suckers
That be faulty, I be puttin' the group up in the boot
Be puttin' the peas up in the pod, left the cookies in the jar

Now I'm a rap star, the rapologist
I pull a 40 out of my ball cap
Then I bust ya down side of this
'Cause partner ain't never been no punk in this

I'm so serious brother, I got meals, wheels
And about seven thousand dollars worth of bills
Givin' up deals, hills let 'em go for a lil' bit or nothin'
As I showcase my skills for real

There's a party over here, a party over there
There's a party everywhere, put ya hands up
There's a party over here, a party over there
There's a party everywhere

There's a party over here, a party over there
There's a party everywhere, put ya hands up
There's a party over here, a party over there
There's a party everywhere

Pullin' up in the club about eleven
I plays my feet and hit the beat and kept it revvin'
I got a lil' doja that I'm fixin' to break down
Roll 'em up in a zag, lick 'em stick 'em and clown

I'm fully dig with a dick, my game is on hit
I got tipped so I tip 'cause I'm livin' with this
Game tight with the knack, I'm pullin' in scratch
They better have a tight grip on they stuff
'Cause I'm 'bout to snatch your batch

If she wants it she'll be mine in the cutlass
Puffin' on some of this chronic while I'm gettin'
Straight penny laced, heard about the drought season
They be lookin' for a reason
It's like thanksgiving without the feastin'

Extra mannish, how I'm livin' and [Incomprehensible] my name is groupie
It's Mr. 30-30 givin' up game to all you hoochies
Bitches always splittin' stick the wood but sometimes wouldn't
Suckin' and grabbin' my little pecker
Talkin' about sick on my gold better
Talkin' about sick on my gold better

I remember when carts was Barbie cut before I was in junior high
All they wanted to do is kiss and let me play with they vagina
I got my freshen up, I put on my chucks, also down with pluck
The finest watch on the playground, the one with the big ass butt

40, I love you, I miss you, I need you
And retrospect to who
Bitch, come anew, bitch, come anew

There's a party over here, a party over there
There's a party everywhere, put ya hands up
There's a party over here, a party over there
There's a party everywhere

There's a party over here, a party over there
There's a party everywhere, put ya hands up
There's a party over here, a party over there
There's a party everywhere

'Cause we made like thugs, get juiced in the parking lot
Before we go up in the clubs, hugs and kisses
Gotta make sure we got our gloves, hugs and kisses
E-40 can't be on anymore, hugs and kisses

Straight to the bar ,no time to waste
Kickin' 'em back while they take the place
Order me a shot of that liquor to taste

Thinkin' they about to beat my face
Oh, no, I'm nothin' but a professional
Oh, no, we're nothin' but professionals

Hoochies all in my face with some of that dope water
Brothers already purple off some of that soap water
So I'ma make a toast to the most mobbish lookin' brothers in this
By midnight 'cause brothers gotta get the shit that's really in man

Batches on our jock, batches on our jock
Mind teachin' things to these brothers
'Cause that's us, captain save a botch
They wanna be like big boys and sport big boot
They wanna be like big boys and sport fresh suits

I got love for D-boys 'cause D-boys got love from me
I got love for D-boys 'cause D-boys got love from me
I got love for D-boys 'cause D-boys got love from me
I got love for D-boys 'cause D-boys got love from me

There's a party over here, a party over there
There's a party everywhere, put ya hands up
There's a party over here, a party over there
There's a party everywhere

There's a party over here, a party over there
There's a party everywhere, put ya hands up
There's a party over here, a party over there
There's a party everywhere

We in this baby boy swervin', E-40 in the mob scene
And I'm still down with the C L I C K comin' yo' way
In the 94 then 95, it don't stop, boy, ain't no jive
Sell the rest of them tapes boy, where the deposit at?
Where mine at? Oh, for real, I'm out

Where's the party at?
Where's the party at?
Where's the party at?
...

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89d6aa08877fccc65d839290fdc66fa2

Saturday, July 31, 2010

No Clothes On - Lyrics - Trey Songz

Title: No Clothes On
Artist: Trey Songz
Composer(s): Troy Taylor, Andrew Harr, Termaine Neverson, Bernard Freeman, Jermaine Jackson

Lyric:
No clothes on
We back, hey
Songz, can you promise?
No clothes on, it's awful, baby

I can picture you with no clothes on
Gurl, I gotta have it
I'm attracted to ya
The way your pants, I'm lookin' back at it

No clothes on
Everybody mean that I wouldn't mind
Seein' you snappin' out them jeans
Like you got no clothes on

And I'm so gone up in my zone
Baby, talked a bidness
You're so grown, baby oh, my goodness
Is this my imagination? Am I hallucinatin' gurl?

You're so grown and I just wanna be bad
Let me see your secrets
Wanna whisper in your ear
Come here

Let me work that thang
We strip that thang
We work that thang
We check that thang
Gurl, I might hurt that thang

Shawty, what your name is?
Oh gurl, I gotta know
And shawty, who you came with?
Don't take this personal

But I can picture you with no clothes on
Gurl, I gotta have it
I'm attracted to ya
The way your pants, I'm lookin' back at it

No clothes on
Everybody mean that I wouldn't mind
Seein' you snappin' out them jeans
Like you got no clothes on

Ain't no more drone, is this your song?
Why don't you go over there and do your thang?
Don't be scared
But that booty body

You the shawty, do the naughty
Hippin' and touchin' at the party
What's so wrong? I just wanna make this clear
Come here, can I whisper in your ear?

Let me work that thang
We strip that thang
We work that thang
We check that thang
Gurl, I might hurt that thang

Shawty, what your name is?
Oh gurl, I gotta know
And shawty, who you came with?
Don't take this personal

Well, I can picture you with no clothes on
Gurl, I gotta have it
I'm attracted to ya
The way your pants, I'm lookin' back at it

No clothes on
Everybody mean that I wouldn't mind
Seein' you snappin' out them jeans
Like you got no clothes on

Gurl, I gotta have it
I'm attracted to to ya
The way your pants, I'm lookin' back at it

No clothes on
Everybody mean that I wouldn't mind
Seein' you snappin' out them jeans
Like you got

No clothes, no clothes, no clothes
You like the way I rock my hips
(When you're rockin' yo hips)
Pop lock and drop it, hey

Pop lock and drop it
Ooh, I love how you be leanin'
You see me leanin'
Ah shawty, am I dreamin'?

I see you dreamin', what I'm tryna say is
Gurl, I'm seein' you, seein' you, seein' you with no clothes
No clothes on, no clothes, no clothes on, ooh baby

But I can picture you with no clothes on
Gurl, I gotta have it
I'm attracted to ya
The way your pants, I'm lookin' back at it

No clothes on
Everybody mean that I wouldn't mind
Seein' you snappin' out them jeans
Like you got no clothes on

Gurl, I gotta have it
I'm attracted to ya
The way your pants, I'm lookin' back at it

No clothes on
Everybody mean that I wouldn't mind
Seein' you snappin' out them jeans
Like you got no clothes on

Take it off

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118a1ed933a5fb8ea1f3eb2b5bfb5f4c

Saturday, August 14, 2010

We Get It Crunk - Lyrics - Cool Breeze

Title: We Get It Crunk
Artist: Cool Breeze
Composer(s): Patrick Brown, Frederick Bell, Raymond Murray, Rico Wade

Lyric:
Cool Breeze, Kurupt, young Gotti
In 1999, anything that can happen
It will, it will, it will, it will, it will
Organized Noize, let's do it, kick it off, c'mon

Cool Breeze, young Gotti, Organized Noize
We gon' bust your mothafuckin' mouth open
No haters allowed, no haters allowed
Uh, no haters allowed, no, no haters allowed

Cool Breeze, I heard you was a mothafuckin' fool
Ah yeah, all 'em wanna see me hit 'em
Wanna get blown from my living room to my bed
Ya heard what I said?

Don't come around here again, changin' the game, re-arrangin'
I'm changin' my name
Since I shot up the party, I'm 2 shotty young Gotti
Like givin' a fuck, hold 'em up, nigga wha
I'm pressin' it homie, I keep the pistol whistling homie

Stashin' it nigga, cocked back, blastin' it nigga
Be silent, you can hear the falls tricklin' homie
It's ridiculous homie, why the fuck you up on me?
That's how mothafuckas lay in caskets nigga

Fool what, we get it crunk
Comin' through your hood with the sawed off pump
Fool what, we get it crunk
Comin' through your hood with the sawed off pump
Fool, what

Hey, I hear you screamin' through your whole house
Mommy, daddy, turn the TV on
Cool Breeze done came out
And every time I wear some new sneakers

They be hatin' on me
All behind my back like some school teachers
And be checkin' for me in the streets
So they can listen to me real good

And go and make a [unverified] that beat
Now everybody wanna put it down
You give 'em one little record deal
And they think they 'bout to run the town

And when they album start to get a buzz
Every time you turn around, you see 'em posted all up in a club
I think they smokin' too much ever body
They try to spit one at me, and we end up spittin' one at everybody

It ain't no plan with the hitman
He bust ten bars, bust back with both hands
So keep your dial locked and stay tuned
And when you be down in Atlanta, be down with the Calhoun's

Fool what, we get it crunk
Comin' through your hood with the sawed off pump
Fool what, we get it crunk
Comin' through your hood with the sawed off pump
Fool, what

Fool what, we get it crunk
Comin' through your hood with the sawed off pump
Fool what, we get it crunk
Comin' through your hood with the sawed off pump
Fool, what

No, no haters allowed
No, no haters allowed
No, no haters allowed
No, no haters allowed

Is that your homeboy?
(Is it)
Are you for sure?
You ever been through war?
(This nigga)
He up and help you feed your folks

Where was this mothafucka when we was broke?
Now I ain't mean to offend a nigga
But if I struck a nigga, heh, fuck that nigga
Punks ain't made around these parts

'Cause over here, everybody got heart
The homie C double O L, nigga, B-R double E Z-E
When I E-E MC E-E, bitch, all y'all hoes is out to get rich
And all y'all [unverified] can eat a fat dick

Mean and my niggas, we got that get back
When we fall through the club, we make everybody get back
Niggas know about the dirty south
I'mma ask you one time, then you gettin' your back slammed out

Cool Breeze only 5'7"
But I'll break you off quick
And it don't matter if you 5'11"
I played ball before I was cool cut

Everybody used to call me, "Don't drop"
'Cause I ain't drop nothin'
One time I walked up and pulled a gun
And layed this dough boy down

And made his whole click make buns
Now every time I make a run
My niggas tell me watch my back
'Cause we know they still want some

Fool what, we get it crunk
Comin' through your hood with the sawed off pump
Fool what, we get it crunk
Comin' through your hood with the sawed off pump
Fool, what

Fool what, we get it crunk
Comin' through your hood with the sawed off pump
Fool what, we get it crunk
Comin' through your hood with the sawed off pump
Fool, what

Fool what, we get it crunk
Comin' through your hood with the sawed off pump
Fool what, we get it crunk
Comin' through your hood with the sawed off pump
Fool, what

Fool what, we get it crunk
Comin' through your hood with the sawed off pump
Fool what, we get it crunk
Comin' through your hood with the sawed off pump
Fool, what

We get it crunk
Comin' through your hood with a sawed off pump
What
We get it crunk
Cool Breeze, 1999

No haters allowed
No, no haters allowed
(Cool Breeze, 1999)
No, no haters allowed
No, no haters allowed
(Kurupt, young Gotti, 1999)

No, no haters allowed
No, no haters allowed
(Yeah, 1999)
No, no haters allowed
No, no haters allowed
(Y2K)

No, no haters allowed
No, no haters allowed
No, no haters allowed

What's up Dr. Dre?
Chronic 2000
Organized Noize
Forever
2000 on

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01372d17da94618ed81189c899548b0a

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Love Is - Lyrics - Beautiful South

Title: Love Is
Artist: Beautiful South
Composer(s): Dave Rotheray, Paul Heaton

Lyric:
Ooh, you care, you really, really care
From the first twelve inch made to the color of my underwear
And ooh, you know, you really, really know
Inside, outside in, from head to toe

But where were you in the colder days?
I'd like to know, I'd like to know
And where will you be in years to come?
I'd like to know, I'd like to know

So don't beg and don't plead
You can't have the heart you made bleed
You're in love with fame
So whilst we love, please don't scream my name

Don't scream my name, don't scream my name
Don't scream my name

You're my friends, my only real friends
But I'd like to know where you'll be when the party ends
I remember your face, the dance was slow
Easy by 'The Commodores' and you said no

But where were you in colder days?
I'd like to know, I'd like to know
And where will you be in years to come?
I'd like to know, I'd like to know

So don't beg and don't plead
You can't have the heart you made bleed
You're in love with fame
So whilst we love, please don't scream my name

Don't scream my name, don't scream my name
Don't scream my name, don't scream my name
Don't scream my name

So here's an invitation to this caring nation
Twenty five years from now, will you come to my cremation?

Sherry or beer, family and friends
Will you be there? Will you be there?
No fame, no fortune, no name in lights
Will you be there? Will you be there?

(Don't scream my name)
So here's an invitation to this caring nation
Twenty five years from now, will you come to my cremation?
(Don't scream my name)

Sherry or beer, family and friends
Will you be there? Will you be there?
(Don't scream my name)
No fame, no fortune, no name in lights
Will you be there? Will you be there?
(Don't scream my name)

So here's an invitation to this caring nation
(Don't scream my name)
Twenty five years from now, will you come to my cremation?
(Don't scream my name)

Sherry or beer, family and friends
(Don't scream my name)
Will you be there? Will you be there?
(Don't scream my name)
No fame, no fortune, no name in lights
(Don't scream my name)
Will you be there? Will you be there? Will you be there?

She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah
She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah
She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah
She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah

She loves me, yeah, yeah, yeah
She loves me, yeah, yeah, yeah
She loves me, yeah, yeah, yeah
She loves me, yeah, yeah, yeah

I love me, yeah, yeah, yeah
I love me, yeah, yeah, yeah
I love me, yeah, yeah, yeah
I love me, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

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e9acb1fa08ac1074deb0f3c34f57490b

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Spaz'S House Destruction Party - Lyrics - Anti Flag

Title: Spaz'S House Destruction Party
Artist: Anti Flag
Composer(s): Christopher Mark Head, Justin Cathal Geever, Patrick Christ Bollinger, Christopher Lee Barker

Lyric:
I want to tell you a little story
'Bout a party that went all right
But went all wrong
I want to tell you a little story
'Bout a party in this song

It happened back in '93
In the Pittsburgh punk rock scene
An event that will go down, in infamy

It was all the master plan
Of one legendary punk rock kid
His name was, 'Spaz', S P A Z

An eviction notice sent to his house
Sparked off an idea
"I should have one last party at my place"

So off he set with his master plan
The invitations in his hand read
You're invited to my house destruction party

Spaz's house destruction party
It was chaos with no end
If you were crazy enough
To make the house destruction party
Then you know, you're lucky that you lived

We played there St. Patrick's Day
With submachine and the bad genes
In a basement full of debris

From kicked in doors, broken glass
Kicked in walls the place was trashed
The house was now missing its support beams

The bathrooms had no toilets
Or sinks left in them
There was nothing
In the kitchen left to break

Aus rotten spray painted on walls
Drunk punks passed out in the halls
And this was just the second night
Or a three-day long part

Spaz's house destruction party
It was chaos with no end
If you were crazy enough
To make the house destruction party
Then you know, you're lucky that you lived

The cops showed up and all the kids
Went piling out the back
I remember running away and hiding out
In the lot behind the squirrel hill Mellon bank

The cop said, "I want to speak
To someone who lives here"
And this punk kid said she did
He asked, "Is this the condition
This house has always been in?"
She answered, " Ah, yeah, it is

Spaz's house destruction party
It was chaos with no end
If you were crazy enough
To make the house destruction party
Then you know, you're lucky that you lived

Play the MP3 online for free!
00705a43aa9a602d51ab59d2a2cd8ee7

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Spaz'S House Destruction Party [Live] - Anti-Flag - Lyrics - Mobilize - Anti Flag

Title: Spaz'S House Destruction Party [Live] - Anti-Flag
Album: Mobilize
Artist: Anti Flag
Composer(s): Christopher Mark Head, Justin Cathal Geever, Patrick Christ Bollinger, Christopher Lee Barker

Lyric:
I want to tell you a little story
'Bout a party that went all right
But went all wrong
I want to tell you a little story
'Bout a party in this song

It happened back in '93
In the Pittsburgh punk rock scene
An event that will go down, in infamy

It was all the master plan
Of one legendary punk rock kid
His name was, 'Spaz', S P A Z

An eviction notice sent to his house
Sparked off an idea
"I should have one last party at my place"

So off he set with his master plan
The invitations in his hand read
You're invited to my house destruction party

Spaz's house destruction party
It was chaos with no end
If you were crazy enough
To make the house destruction party
Then you know, you're lucky that you lived

We played there St. Patrick's Day
With submachine and the bad genes
In a basement full of debris

From kicked in doors, broken glass
Kicked in walls the place was trashed
The house was now missing its support beams

The bathrooms had no toilets
Or sinks left in them
There was nothing
In the kitchen left to break

Aus rotten spray painted on walls
Drunk punks passed out in the halls
And this was just the second night
Or a three-day long part

Spaz's house destruction party
It was chaos with no end
If you were crazy enough
To make the house destruction party
Then you know, you're lucky that you lived

The cops showed up and all the kids
Went piling out the back
I remember running away and hiding out
In the lot behind the squirrel hill Mellon bank

The cop said, "I want to speak
To someone who lives here"
And this punk kid said she did
He asked, "Is this the condition
This house has always been in?"
She answered, " Ah, yeah, it is

Spaz's house destruction party
It was chaos with no end
If you were crazy enough
To make the house destruction party
Then you know, you're lucky that you lived

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df8838247c5622db47a97aeea7d0ebbe

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Out For Fame - Lyrics - Krs One

Title: Out For Fame
Artist: Krs One
Composer(s): Lawrence Parker

Lyric:
Yo right here, right here
It's right through the fence, right through the fence
Jump
Yeah right there, right there
That's the 2's and the 5's
Joe gimme that, the fat, the fat cap, fat cap
Yeah
Aight
Aight, let's do it now, let's do it now
Yeah yeah
Nah gi-gimme the other cap, gimme the other one
Yeah right there
Front Page Entertainment Group
Yeah

"I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
"Writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
"I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
"I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
"I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall" "
I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
"I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
"I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
Hah! Hahahaha
All graffiti artists hold tight, hooo
All graffiti artists hold tight, word
Check check check it out y'all
Check check check check check it out y'all

I got twenty-five cans in my knapsack, crossin out the wick-wack
Puttin up my name with a fat cap
Suckers that want to be in my face I just slap that
Big respect to Artifacts, Fat Joey Crack and
Mack and, Bio, and Brim come again
With B.G. 183, recognize me
With the mad colors, I'm a fiend for spraypaint
Laugh if you wanna, I really care if you ain't
Cause you don't me see, and I don't know you
But I do know Cope2, he be gettin walls too
It's the underground community of what we call writers
Worldwide burners, gettin hotter gettin brighter
Whattup Nicer, whattup Razor, whattup Chino
Masta Ase in the place, you know we know
My man Rican, my man Zorro, taught me how to draw
In the yards of the 5 train and the 4
So when I'm on tour I represent the hardcore
I'm taggin up your blackbook sure, I'm out for the fame

"I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
"Writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
"I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
"I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
Yeah, check it out check it out check it out one time
Hip-hop music in effect one time

When I was growin up, I had no butcher baker candlestick maker
I had rubbing alcohol and carbon paper
Yeah, carbon paper and a blackboard eraser
Got me chased in the bus yards, with Rican and Nazer
Historically speakin, cause people be dissin
The first graffiti artists in the world were the Egyptians
Writing on the walls, mixing characters with letters
To tell the graphic story about their life, however
Today we do the same thing, with how we rap and draw
We call it hardcore, they call it breakin the law
There used to be a time when rap music was illegal
The cops would come and break up every party when they see you
But now the rap music's making money for the corporate
It's acceptable to flaunt it, now everybody's on it
Graffiti isn't corporate so it gets no respect
Hasn't made a billion dollars for some corporation yet, so
In the name of Phase2, Stay High, Pre-streets
Grab your cans and hit the streets, I'm out for fame

"I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
"I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
"I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
"I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
"I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
"I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
Yeah, hip-hop culture in the house one time
All graffiti artists in the house one time
Yeah
Biggin up the other side things here y'all
The visual, not your video (check it out)

I'm livin in the city, inner city not a farm
Steady bombin til I get fatigue in my arm
Watchin for the beast cause many artists they shot em
And beat em in the yards, while doin a top to bottom
So pass me a can, not of Old Gold
But full blue, sky blue, watch me unfold
With the cold burner, of names you mighta heard of
Like Fab 5 Freddy, Sam Sever
Word to the wise, Futura 2000 recognize
Nation of creation, G Man come alive
Checkin out Revolt and Zephyr
My man Easy, and Rembrandt, Mitch 77
Oh no with the paint we can never dilly-dally
Big up and respect to Con Art in Cali
The Soul Artists, The Rebels, The Rascals, 3YB
United Artists, TAT and Dondi
Yes the other side of hip-hop is representin the visual
Toys we be dissin you, I'm out for fame

"I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
"I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
"I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
"I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
"I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
"I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
"I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
"I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
"I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
"I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall"
Hip-hop in the house one time
Video graf in the house one time
All graffiti artists in the house dig the rhyme
Put up your nine, put up your nine, yeah

Fresh for nineteen-ninety-five
You SUCKERS

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e3af22f86472177ecb424065de4f1622

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Devil Without A Cause - Lyrics - Devil Without A Cause - Kid Rock

Title: Devil Without A Cause
Album: Devil Without A Cause
Artist: Kid Rock
Composer(s): R.J. Ritchie, Kenny Olson, Lawrence Smith, Todd Shaw, Matthew Shafer, Jalil Hutchins

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

Lyric:
You knew that I was coming 'cause you heard my name
But you don't know my game and never felt my pain
Can't read my brain but you read my lips
And got scared when you heard that I was coming with hits

Now don't even trip, be a man instead
Give thanks I'm alive when I should be dead
I'm in the red 'cause my mind's distortin'
People claimin that they know me, but they only know a portion

I'm a move mountains and touch the sun
Don't get scared now, you knew this day would come
So hold your bids, all bets are closed
And fuck all you hoes

'Cause it's been a long time comin'
But I finally broke like an egg yolk, I ain't no joke
Like some uncut dope motherfucker, Kid Rock's to blame
Same game, same name, ain't a damn thing changed

No sell-out, I ain't no hoe
Fuck the radio comin' from the R O M E O
Watch me throw like a fist of rage
Self made and paid and sawed off twelve gauges

Up that ass for the nine eight
(Nine eight)
Never fake, shake, straight from the Great Lakes
Seven years on wax comin' correct
Flat out you diss me punk, that's when I pull a strap out

And I get to buck, buck, bucking a fuck, fuck, fucking your hoes
'Cause they know who's runnin' this shit, top dog, I'm the C E O
Role model, your motherfucking H E R O
My motto, 'Be cool, keep pimpin''

Don't sleep, we roll deep in a Lincoln
Four Vogues on a hundred spokes
We bust Biltmore Beavers and Top Dog Coats
We float like butterflies, sting like queen bees

Strapped with A-K's straight from the Chinese
What the fuck's goin' on in the D
Bunch of white boys pimpin' like the K I D
And it's all good I got love for my honkeys

We roll thick kick ass like donkeys
Anybody fuck's with you and I'm gonna mack 'em
Devil without a cause, I'm going platinum

I'm going platinum
I'm going platinum
We're going platinum
Devil without a cause, I'm going platinum
Uh, devil, devil

Yeah, we come to party, so get down everybody
(Come on)
Yeah, we come to party

I went from St. Claire Shores and drink specials at Winners
To New York City and 700 dollar dinners
From hangin' with sinners and second hand cheap sex
To gettin' much respect from top record exec's

The cool Kid's comin' up to call you out
So shut up now or put my balls in your mouth
Bet that ass hoss I ain't forgot
When I was tossed in the dime, baby left to rot

Used to call me dummy when my nose was fucking runny
Now my fuckin' bunnies gettin' fuckin' Matchbox 20 money
Motherfuckers want to claim their down
But when I was broke and down I never seen them around

All the shit we talked, all the shit we dreamed
I did it without you got a brand new team
No triple beams it seems like a movie
Bought two cribs, droptop and jacuzzi

No more fluzzies, only high class hoes
Couple when it rains and a few when it snows
A brand new nose to go along with my habit
And a garden hose made out of 24 karat

Bought a couple parrots that like to squawk
And they sound like you and all the shit you talk
Step inside my shoes, you couldn't fill 'em, doc
You're too old to kid, too soft to rock

Already did what most love shout
Seven years on wax and I still ain't sold out
And there ain't no doubt in my mind
That I'm gonna stomp all over you, test of time

I'm go platinum
I'm go platinum
I'm go platinum
We're going platinum
Devil without a cause, I'm going platinum
Uh, devil, come on devil, uh, uh devil

Straight out of the streets of Taylor
Three foot high, ready to get fly, Joe C
I'm the J O E to the C, hoe
Call me Joe C, got more game than Coleco

I'm a freak hoe, call me sick
Three foot nine with a ten foot dick
The ladies pick, I'm a crazy hick
And rake through kind like a bum through wine

It's my time so I'm gonna shine like lead
Old as piss, but small as ass
Watch me pass smoke some hash
You're raking grass while I'm raking cash

High-ass voice like Aaron Neville
And I'm down with the devil

Say we like to party, rock the party
We like to party, rock the party
We like to party, rock the party
We like to party, rock the party

You like to party, rock the party
We like to party, rock the party
You like to party, rock the party
Devil without a cause, I'm going platinum
Uh, uh, come on, uh, uh, uh, uh

Play the MP3 online for free!
c812c971d1d1d3793d2ac597e2d7ed76

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Ain'T No Party - Lyrics - Alvin and the Chipmunks - The Chipmunks

Title: Ain'T No Party
Album: Alvin and the Chipmunks
Artist: The Chipmunks
Composer(s): Ali Dee Theodore, Zachary Danziger, Julian M Davis

Lyric:
Yeah, one, two, one, two
We got that hot one from the chipmunks, come on

Ain't no party like a chipmunk party
'Cause the chipmunk party don't stop
It's just me and my boys, sure to bring the noise
You know that we make it hot

They make it hot, hot
They make it hot, hot
They make it hot, hot
They make it hot, hot

Step inside the party, y'all know our name
Paparazzi outside, glad we came
Gotta take some photos with a couple of fans
If you don't show love, they will be in the stands

Back to the dance flow, getting it poppin'
Bodies are moving and heads are boppin'
All looks back and we turned it out
'Cause you know what the chipmunks are all about

Ain't no party like a chipmunk party
'Cause the chipmunk party don't stop
It's just me and my boys, sure to bring the noise
You know that we make it hot

They make it hot, hot
They make it hot, hot
They make it hot, hot
They make it hot, hot

We go where we wanna go, flow how we wanna flow
If you don't know, well now you know
Having a good time is what were after
Chillin' with friends for fun and laughter

If you wanna roll you know where we're at
Spotlight lookin' cool somewhere in the back
Dave would be mad if he saw us laugh
Standing in the spotlight with our voices loud

Ain't no party like a chipmunk party
'Cause the chipmunk party don't stop
It's just me and my boys, sure to bring the noise
You know that we make it hot

They make it hot, hot
They make it hot, hot
They make it hot, hot
They make it hot, hot

Yo, Classic, give it up to Alvin
Show them how you do it, alright
Yo, you're ready Theodore, yeah
Cool, Simon, you with it
That's right, come on

Drivin' down sunset lookin' for describin'
My little dude's ain't dead, just ain't hot
Rollin' with the crew, the guest list says
Alvin and the chipmunks plus 82

VIP action, children relaxing
Superstar fashion, cameras flashing
Alvin, Simon, Theodore too
Do it like this every time we come through

Ain't no party like a chipmunk party
'Cause the chipmunk party don't stop
It's just me and my boys, sure to bring the noise
You know that we make it hot

They make it hot, hot
They make it hot, hot
They make it hot, hot
They make it hot, hot
They make it hot

Play the MP3 online for free!
5b502cc871e0ee41dc9ec855add06f96

Saturday, August 21, 2010

I Don'T Wanna Party Wit U - Lyrics - Dj Quik

Title: I Don'T Wanna Party Wit U
Artist: Dj Quik
Composer(s): David Marvin Blake

Lyric:
Get back before I get raised, get lower
Do some extreme shit, keep from bein' bored
Now it's double up, hoes come a nickel a dozen
They get hot and get fucked and don't remember from buzzin'

That's why you don't see me, I ain't at the club
I'm chillin' with my homies in the city of hugs
Because they need me more than that hoe
The big fat hoe tryna' get every ballin' nigga in the saddle

Lap dance, fat chance, hot pants, you the man
Now a days you can't tell, watch the crotch, it might swell
You needs a pap smear, you need to know if you got an STD
Some little critters in ya trap dear

Get on, me and my homies is indivisible
And don't floss money, it looks better when it's invisible
We get props from Wall Street to y'all street
If ya missed it, I stay consistant, we got heat
C-P-T style, O-G me style, the D-J Q-U-I-K with no C style
In yo' town, don't trip nigga, it goes down

And when you see me in all blue, you gon' frown
But I'm rigid the ghetto, I'm rigid with rap
Money or respect bitch, I'd rather have the digits than DAT
So give me the hats, do you want the meat or the scraps?
Put heat on my naps and I'ma hell look sweet on my lap
'Cause it's the same thang tryna' kill the gang bang
Set examples for the kids, on how to maintain
Never be a lame brain

Y'all ain't gotta feel the same pain
That put a nigga like me on the mainframe
Bow down, back up nigga, I'm hot now
And don't try to resuscitate me when I'm shot down
Just call my homie Theo on the radio
And let him know his little homie Quiksta had to go
Because 'Gangsta, Gangsta', that's what they yellin'

But niggas do dirt, get caught, and start tellin'
Talkin' to you G's with no heart
We was throwin' and runnin' from bullets
Before gangsta rappin' was an art
Nigga so don't test ya bullet-proof vest
'Cause real niggas do real thangs up under stress
That's from the C-P-T, young G with heart, too
Oh we still party, but now it's part two

And I don't wanna party wit you, hell naw
'Cause bitch you scary
You 20 years old, with 3 kids, 7 tattoos
You're bald but your legs are hairy

I don't wanna party wit you, hell naw
You need to put some lotion on
'Cause ya skin is peelin' around them bullet wounds on ya back
You're fat plus you're abortion-prone

I'd rather be a young exec, than the puppet on the other end
Danglin' by a neuce on his neck
They can't handle me, 'cause I'm where the [Incomprehensible] be
And underground nigga on Erickston, now there is the family

That I'ma roll wit, take control wit
Have a ball, break bread, and share the store wit
Even though I'm thirsty for money in the worst way
I ain't go cry if I don't go platinum on the first day
Watch me, get my hustle on with the friendly competition

Y'all got papers but I got the latest tradition
A hundred-thousand dollars a truck, is what I crack
And if you ain't got that, keep wishin'
And to you bitch-ass niggas in the maze
Comin' at a player with [Incomprehensible] ways
Keep lickin' on that other sound

And stay north of the 105 Hip Hop heads, 'cause this is underground
Right by the water, can't do right by ya daughter
But look at all the shit that I done bought her
See lyrics ain't nothin' if the beat ain't crackin'
And these beats smackin', that's why the G's keep stackin', nigga

I don't wanna party wit you, hell naw
'Cause nigga you's a scuffla
Your braids is dingy, your clothes ain't got no creases
And your lips look like you sucked a muffler

I don't wanna party wit you, hell naw
'Cause bitch you didn't know me
When you was fine as wine and thick
Now you sick from smokin' that shit
You're broke and plus you're boney

W-E-S-T, C-O-A-S-T, that's where the hydroponic with no seeds be
So don't trip when you see me on the TV, or my CD
And my eyes are really R-E-D
See the [Incomprehensible] is free, pardon me for bein' speaky
Switchin' on y'all that wanna jeek me

What makes you even try that way?
Yeah I might be fly, but I don't fly that way
Hmm, even on a gallon a Sisco I could never go disco
Dude I ain't from Frisco

And to these bitches, y'all trippin', we ain't layin' wit y'all
Just because we say we wanna fuck, we playin' wit y'all
This is entertainment, we tryna' make us some change
We ain't impressed by what you got up under your Hanes
Bitch that's yo' trap, and that's yo' sap

Let me spit the cap while she sit in yo' lap
Homie, don't you know me
Jealous-ass niggas wanna flow me
Just because yo' woman wanna blow me
On the strength I give that hoe a tittie-toy
'Cause I'm the only ugly nigga gettin' away with bein' pretty boy

I don't wanna party wit you, hell naw
Now this is how the sporty bounce
We stay away from you broke-ass niggas
Always beggin' and ain't got a dime on the 40 oz

I don't wanna party wit you hell naw
'Cause hoe you toe-back, with that ol' long ass roll
And ya stockin' smellin' like Avon
And that horse want his 'fro back

I don't wanna party wit you hell naw
And nigga I can't stand ya
And I ain't got nothin' but some advice,
A map, a bar of soap, some water and a towel to hand ya

I don't wanna party wit you hell naw
Now I'ma be real wit it
All my fuckin' life I ain't never wanted fame
But since the shit done came I gotta deal wit it

I don't wanna party wit you
Ya know, but I'ma do it like my homie say
Check it, I don't give a fuck about fame
I'd rather deal with the money, y'all can have the name
I'm out, yeah

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d44c838af2ea9d15889320c65c3ba683

Friday, August 13, 2010

What'S Your Number? - Lyrics - Till Death Do Us Part - Cypress Hill

Title: What'S Your Number?
Album: Till Death Do Us Part
Artist: Cypress Hill
Composer(s): Louis Freese, Paul Simonon, Mick D Jones, Senen Reyes, Larry Muggerud, John Jones, Mellor

Lyric:
Let's go!

I met her at the club, her friend liked me but she didn't
She noticed a lot of girls giving up their phone digits
She didn't want to be one of those hoes in clothes
Exploiting the body from head to toes, she had glossy lips
She was swaying her hips on the dance floor and every nigga
Flashing the grips trying to impress her in vain
She gave no play, niggas tend to offer numbers and she said no way

I thought to myself, "Let it go, the girl on beat"
But like Smoky said,"She really had a hold on me"
I couldn't stop staring I started to fantasize with her
Voices in my head said, "She's tantalizing ya"
Even if I moved to the other side of the party
I had pictures in my head of her moving that body
I was beside myself with conquer pain
So I slowly walked over and I asked her name

What's your name? What's your number?
I would like to get to know you
Can we have a conversation?
The night is young
Girl give me a chance

What's your name? What's your number?
I would like to get to know you
Can we have a conversation?
The night is young
Girl give me a chance

She gave a smile but I got no answer though it took a while
Before she gave a chance, she's actin' cold
I offered her a drink, she turned me down flat
She said, "If you want my name, you gotta do better than that"
I said, "Okay, now your shit don't stink"
I'ma walk away, only tried to buy you a drink"
As I began to walk away she said, "I'm sorry for real
But every guy in the club tries slipping me pills
I don't trust that each and everyone would lie to you"

I said "I understand but that's not what I tried to do
I wasn't even gonna go to your table but
If I didn't, I knew that I'd regret it later
I go after what I want but I got class
For me no need to slip a pill and if I want ass"
She gave me a funny look, I couldn't tell what it meant
She let her guard down and on the conversation went

What's your name? What's your number?
I would like to get to know you
Can we have a conversation?
The night is young
Girl give me a chance

What's your name? What's your number?
I would like to get to know you
Can we have a conversation?
The night is young
Girl give me a chance

She said, "I want a man with the plan and ambition"
Not an immature nigga on a pussy head mission
I'm too good for that, I have so much to offer
Got a good job, working at my mom and dad's law firm
"You got goals?" That's what she asked
"Yeah, I want to fill my home with platinum plaques
It takes hard work but you know it's coming after"
She said "Oh My God! You must be a famous rapper"

"I do alright, but I'm never satisfied
I'm told when you still love what you do, it never gets old
I strive for more but that's enough about me
Why don't we skip out the club, take a walk on the streets?"
We slipped outta the club with no worries
Seemed she wanted to get out in a hurry
We hung all night till we lost our friends
Until they caught us banging in the back of a Benz

What's your name? What's your number?
I would like to get to know you
Can we have a conversation?
The night is young
Girl give me a chance

What's your name? What's your number?
I would like to get to know you
Can we have a conversation?
The night is young
Girl give me a chance

What's your name? What's your number?
I would like to get to know you
Can we have a conversation?
The night is young
Girl give me a chance

What's your name? What's your number?
I would like to get to know you
Can we have a conversation?
The night is young
Girl give me a chance

Let's go!

Play the MP3 online for free!
bd4196a92b876809b8fa8eeebba437dd

Friday, July 30, 2010

Graveyard Shift - Lyrics - Afroman

Title: Graveyard Shift
Artist: Afroman
Composer(s): Joseph Foreman

Lyric:
"Is night shift okay with you?"
"Yes"
"Hey, well you got yourself a job, homie"

Graveyard shift ain't never dead
We go to work when people go to bed
We got a tremendous work overload
The boss don't care about the dress code

So, if your hair's messed up, come on in
Nobody don't care 3 o'clock in the mornin'
I'm fantasizin' about a six fo'
Broke as hell, moppin' the flo

I don't know but I gots the hunch
(What's that?)
That it's almost time for lunch
Smokin' cigarettes in the parkin' lot
All the homies tellin' lies 'bout the women they got

Nobody gets offended at a racial joke
(Why?)
Everybody's laughin', tryin' to stay woke
(Yeah)
We takin' it easy though times are hard
Pullin' practical jokes on the security guard

And if you come late, the boss won't boot ya
Standin' 'round, talkin' 'bout the future
Don't even trip if you feel tired
Take a little nap, you won't get fired

Drink a little beer , smoke you a spliff
(Beer, spliff)
Nobody cares on the graveyard shift
(Uh, yeah, yeah, uh, uh)

Party, on the graveyard shift
(Yeah, party)
Party, on the graveyard shift
(Oh yeah, alright now)
(You don't have to slave)
You don't have to slave too hard on the graveyard
(Oh)

Hey, yeah, uh
My name is Joseph Foreman, they call me, 'Fro
('Cuz)
I worked at the neighborhood grocery store
We actin' crazy like a bunch of kids
Playin' frisbee with the trash can lids

When the boss man comes, baby we don't run
He's a fool like us just tryin' to have fun
Graveyard shift is a little bit prouder
Play the radio just a little bit louder

DJ playin' that midnight mix
(Mix)
Dance contest on isle number six
(Six)
Bumpin' that old school too short rhyme
(Uh)
Got the homeboys in a soul train line

If you wanna act crazy, go ahead and be wild
If you wanna rap, go ahead and freestyle
Graveyard shift, you just can't beat it
If you get hungry, grab something and eat it
(Ha,ha)

Drinkin' in the back with my home girl
(Yeah)
The beer's on the house from the corporate world
Act like a fool 'til the break of dawn
Yellin' curse words on the intercom

Drag racin' with the fork lift
Nobody cares on the graveyard shift
(You know what I'm sayin'? Ha)

Party on the graveyard shift
(Yeah, everyday)
Party on the graveyard shift
(Alright, yeah)
(You don't have to slave, oh yeah)
You don't have to slave too hard on the graveyard
(Break it down, fellas)
Ohh, ohh, ohh, ohh, ohh, ohh

I never would work on daytime
(Daytime)
Graveyard shift is my play time
(Playtime)
Daytime jobs are flaky
(Flaky)
Daytime jobs are shaky like Jello Gelatin
(What? Gelatin)

So, I work graveyard shift like a skeleton
(Yeah)
An afro-classic is what I am
I drive to work without a traffic jam
Everybody on the graveyard is like my brother
Always lookin' out for each other

Speak up fo' ya like I lawyer
If you come late, we'll punch the clock fo' ya
We gots no money but we got pride
If you car break down I'll give you a ride

'Cause the corporate world is oh so cold
To the people at the bottom of the totem pole
Divided we fall, together we stand
What you need? Get it from the Afroman

I'm not a thief but I got the hook up
For the barbecue ribs you wanna cook up
And if you need somebody to get drunk with
Call the homeboys from the graveyard shift
(Dedicated to all the blue collar workers
Strugglin', strivin', throbbin', thrivin')

Party on the graveyard shift
(If the boss lookin' for me
I'm in my car asleep, you know what I'm sayin'?)
Party on the graveyard shift
(Hey, so watch my back
'Cuz tap on the window or something, ha, ha)
You don't have to slave too hard on the graveyard
Ohh, ohh, ohh, ohh, ohh, ohh

Happiness is hard to find
Happiness is a state of mind
It can't be found in fame or wealth
It's found real deep inside yourself

Brothers, stop singin' the blues
Throw parties and barbecues
Don't destroy your life, enjoy your life
Play with your kids and make love to your wife

Drink a little beer, don't smoke no crack
Have a good time before Christ comes back
Keep your head high, keep your back stiff
I'll see you Sunday night for the graveyard shift

Party on the graveyard shift
Party on the graveyard shift
You don't have to slave too hard on the graveyard
Ohh, ohh, ohh, ohh, ohh, ohh

(Hey, check this out loco)
No dental plan, no Medicare
(Graveyard, graveyard)
Said no vacation, the man don't care
(Graveyard, graveyard)
Ain't got no union no respect
(Graveyard, graveyard)

Dirty uniforms and a short paycheck
(Graveyard, graveyard)
Workin' minimum wage everyday
(Graveyard, graveyard)
We gotta get over some kinda way
(Come on man)

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Sunday, August 15, 2010

Ring Ring Ring - Lyrics - De La Soul

Title: Ring Ring Ring
Artist: De La Soul
Composer(s): Kelvin Mercer, Glenn Skinner, Martin Volpeliere, Miguel John Drummond, David Jolicoeur, Vincent Mason, Nicholas Thorp, Julian Brookhouse, Paul Huston

Lyric:
Yes, this is Miss Renee King from Philadelphia
I want you to please give me a call
On area code 215 222 4209
And I'm calling in reference to the music business
Thank you

Hey, how you doin'?
Sorry you can't get through
Why don't you leave your name
And your number
And I'll get back to you

Hey, how are you doin'?
Sorry you can't get through
But leave your name
And your number
And I'll get back to you

Once again it's another rap bandit
Fiending at I and I can't stand it
Wanna be down with the Day-Glo
Knocking on my door, saying, "A yo yo"
Knocking on my door, saying, "A yo yo"
"I got a funky new tune with a fly banjo"
I can't understand what the problem is
I find it hard enough dealing with my own biz

How'd they get my name and number
Then I stop to think and wonder
'Bout a plan, yo man, I gotta step out town
You wanna call me up? Take my number down
It's 222-2222
I got an answering machine that can talk to you
It goes

Hey, how you doin'?
Sorry you can't get through
But leave your name
And your number
And I'll get back to you

Yo, check it, exit the old style, enters the new
But nothing's new 'bout being hawked by a crew
Or should I say flock 'cause around every block
There's Harry, Dick, and Tom, with a demo in his palm
Now I'm with helping those who want to help themselves
And flaunt a nut that's doggy as in dope
But it's not the mood to hear
The tales of limousines and pails
Of money they'll make like a pro

I be like, "Yo black, just play me the tape"
But at the show the time to spare I just make
But the songs created in they shacks
Are so wick-wick-wack, situations like this
And now I hate they give me smiles Kool-Aid wide and ask
"Was it def?"
And with the straightest face I be like, "Hell yes"
I slip them the digits to Papa Prince Paul
So I don't go AWOL but yet I know when they call
They get

Hey, how you doin'?
Sorry you can't get through
Why don't you leave your name
And your number
And I'll get back to you

Hey, how are you doin'?
Sorry you can't get through
Why don't you leave your name
And your number
And I'll get back to you

Check it out
Party at the dug-out on Diction Ave
Haven't been to the jam in quite a while
Figure I'll catch up on the latest styles
'Stead piles and piles of demo tapes bi-da miles
All I wanna do is cut on the decks wild
But edition up here bi-da miles to the center
Reliever of duty, Plug One mosies in
And I be like, "Yo G, Pos does all the producing"

Now woe is me to the third degree
Mase pulls the funny so I make like a bunny
Jettin', but I'm getting used to this demo abuse
Getting raped and giving birth to a tape
'Cause there's no escape from the clutches of a hawker
Attached to my success, sent like a stalker
Make way to my radius playin' fly guy
Try to get on my back they force like Luke Sky

Me, myself and I go through this act daily
And rarely do I not
No matter how I dodge some jackal always nails me
No matter what the plot
And even out on tour they be like
"Yo I got a tape to play you back at the hotel"
I be like, "Oh swell"
Unveil the numeric code that dials my room
And tell them to call me at noon

But of course there's no
Answering machine in my room
But a pretty young adorer
Who I swung on tour
And if it rings while we're alone
She'll answer the phone
And with the quickness she'll recite like a poem

"Hey, you done did the right thing, dial up my ring ring
Now you're waiting on the beep
Say, I would love if you'd sing
The tune to Tru instead of fronting on the speak"
So no problemo, just play the demo
And at the end it's break out time
Please, oh, please don't press rewind
'Cause I'll just lay it down the line

Hey, how you doin'?
Sorry you can't get through
Why don't you leave your name
And your number
And I'll get back to you

Hey, how you doin'?
Sorry you can't get through
Why don't you leave your name
And your number
And we'll get back to you

Hey, how you doin'?
Sorry you can't get through
Why don't you leave your name
And your number
And we'll get back to you, peace

Yo what's up man?
This is Ronald Master down with the Fish Tank
Posse, man, you know man
So you know you can just hook me up, True
You know we got this fly new jam called
'Swimming In the Fish Tank'
You know we gonna rock it man
You know what I'm saying

I, I just need your help, Prince Paul gave me your number
You know man, you just gotta do that for me
Got this fly bassline
Got these fly trombones in it man
So just hook me up, man, just look out, all right
Call me back at 557-2223 all right man
Just look out, all right, look out for a brother man

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