Race You To The Bottom - Lyrics - Let Them Be Little - Billy Dean

Title: Race You To The Bottom
Album: Let Them Be Little
Artist: Billy Dean
Composer(s): Billy Dean, Ray Barnette

Lyric:
Where you see yourself going?
You think you got what it takes?
Let?s see how bad you want it
Hey, that?s how the system works
You better get used to it

How low are you willing to go
To make it to the top
You better want it badder than me
?Cause I won?t ever stop

I know what sells, I know it well
I ain't afraid of selling out
I?m all about the bottom line
?Cause ain't that what it?s all about

Power, sex, money
(Power, sex, money)
Whatever they can think of next
It?s just a game

And if you want in
I?ll race you to the bottom
Whoever dies with the most wins
I?ll race you to the bottom

In the bar, in my car
I?m workin' overtime
While you're on vacation
Or at your kid?s graduation night

Well, that?s what it takes to get a break
It?s dirty and low down
Who cares if it ain?t fair
What makes the world go round is

Power, sex, money
(Power, sex, money)
Whatever they can think of next
It?s just a game

And if you want in
I?ll race you to the bottom
Whoever dies with the most wins

Greed is good
Yeah, that?s what they say
It?s just misunderstood
Hey, don't blame me
I didn't make it that way

Whatever they can think of next
It?s just a game and if you want in
I?ll race you to the bottom
Whoever dies with the most wins
I?ll race you to the bottom

Power, sex, money
I?ll race you to the bottom
Power, sex, money
I?ll race you to the bottom

Hey, sweet cheeks
Are you willing to work a little late tonight
If you want that promotion
You gotta go around me

What you willin? to do for me
Ain't nobody gonna know
You scratch my back, I?ll scratch yours

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Dont Forget The Bass - Lyrics - Del The Funky Homosapien

Title: Dont Forget The Bass
Artist: Del The Funky Homosapien
Composer(s): Adam Ryan Carter, Teren Delvon Jones

Lyric:
I'm ready for action, packing provisions of visions
Verbally, every word will be enhanced
With the bass that puts you in a trance
Some dance, come take a chance, Del won't do you wrong

I've been in the rap game too long to falter
I rock like Gibraltar
Make you kneel to the butt like an altar
We move to prove, this is improved

When you're at water
Caught 'em with vibration
That soothes your back like massages
Before you can park your car in garages

It'll be just for riders, listening to Rock the bells'
You can barely hear the vocals
Mixing is important, getting the public into choke holds

Hip hop homo's will do well to know this
It ain't about who's the dopest
It's who gets the fan's focus upon you
When they feel what the song do

I think I'm onto something, when I got my shit pumping
I remember when they were satisfied with just lyrics
Now, if the music's flat, I can barely stand to hear it

And my rhymes are impeccable and you can't dissect my flow
With music sounding like it's out of tin cans
Just wretch the whole vibe and stride for perfection
Why you think they call this a profession? Hey

Can't forget the bass
The bottom got 'em crawlin' to the wall, man
We got cassettes, CDs and LPs
DJs for days, whatever you do
Give it your all, 'cause that's what pays

Can't forget the bass
The bottom got 'em crawlin' to the wall, man
We got cassettes, CDs and LPs
DJs for days, whatever you do
Give it your all, 'cause that's what pays

I just love when I can hear the bump pleading to the walls
In the halls coming from the record stores in the malls
A beat with walls I like that, it bites back and strikes back
At niggaz who are wack

'Cuz back in the day when hip hop was just developing
It was back in the day, we should be relishing in experience
All you newcomers better be leery 'cause
Hieroglyphics got the bump and it ain't mysterious

Can't forget the bass
The bottom got 'em crawlin' to the wall, man
We got cassettes, CDs and LPs
DJs for days, whatever you do
Give it your all, 'cause that's what pays

Can't forget the bass
The bottom got 'em crawlin' to the wall, man
We got cassettes, CDs and LPs
DJs for days, whatever you do
Give it your all, 'cause that's what pays

This don't apply to the niggaz who salved
And fell out of their fam base, trying to chase the big bucks
It sucks, I know, when your heroes wanna appear to hoes
Super macho

And watch the whole role and image of a mic champion
To the fam base, it simply can't be done
'Cuz they're your folks when you don't get the prop shit
They know you got the top shit and in it only for profit

But since we on the topic, let me drop it
We need to stop this segregation of hip hop
Talking 'bout fuck the east coast and fuck the west
He's sold out 'cause someone either sings a notion in the chorus

What is real hip hop then?
Only the shit you listen to, everything else pretending
I'm sending a message to my fam base
Fuck this is hip hop and this is rap, it came from the same place

And there's a place for everything including hieroglyphics
And we gonna come with it, as long as y'all with it
'Cause the fam base is like a legion
For one cause, we want the dope shit
'Cause the others got flossed

Now I'm a fan who likes a lot of different things
I differentiate with music just to spread my wings
I always do my best that's why my fans love me
Not simply drop shit, so I can be bubbly

We all got some preferences, that's just how it goes
But when you see there's an effort being made
Don't turn up your nose
Turn up the bass, race to go and buy it
And don't dub it, some of y'all do it, don't deny it

Can't forget the bass
The bottom got 'em crawlin' to the wall, man
We got cassettes, CDs and LPs
DJs for days, whatever you do
Give it your all, 'cause that's what pays

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One Two Shit - Lyrics - A Tribe Called Quest

Title: One Two Shit
Artist: A Tribe Called Quest
Composer(s): Kamaal Fareed, Ali Shaheed Muhammad, Trevor Smith, Malik Taylor

Lyric:
One, two, one, two
One, wa, wa, one, one, two, one, two
One, wa, wa, one, one, two, one, two
One, wa, wa, one, one, two, one, two

Yo, it's the Q-Tip, you know I get down
Yes, I rock to the rhythm of a funky sound
It go one, wa, wa, one, one, two, one, two
One, wa, wa, one, one, two, one, two

And it's the Phife Dawg and I do the same
And when it comes to rippin' mics, aiyyo, it ain't no games
One, wa, wa, one, one, two, one, two
One, wa, wa, one, one, two, one, two

Aiyyo, you know it's Busta Rhymes, every time
Oh yes, I'm comin' wicked with the new design
I'm sayin' one, wa, wa, one, one, two, one, two
One, wa, wa, one, one, two, one, two

MC's ain't coming equipped with the rhymes
Don't do the crime if you can't do the time
The time is eternal when you play with the miser
Soul is in my body and the health make me wiser

The tantalizing wordplay, yeah, that's the joint
Sometimes I have to cuss just to prove my damn point
Brothers need to come with better compositions
I write and recite to make good position

In this rap game here, we engineer
Stabbin' up the jam, yeah, son, shit's clear
And I be kickin' rhymes in my own damn way
Beatin' niggaz to the punch like Sugar Ray

Got the cool-ass style, that's cooler than the cool
My lyrics is the bullet and the mic is the tool
Peace to C Seventy Three and C Seventy Fo'
Do a little somethin' when I'm out on tour

Comin' thru like narcotics for the antibiotics
Flappin' shorty's stockings to the Space-like Sprockets
What you really need to do is just boogie your ass
It's not gassed, we got to make the good times last

Let the good times roll 'cuz we in control
Take you out on your high, less you payin' a toll
Let the good times roll, let the good times roll
Take you out on your high, less you payin' a toll

Question
Why is that MC's be wack
And major labels wanna sound like crap?
Aiyyo, funk dat

Word to life, I'm comin' rugged
'Cuz once you add the hip to the hop, kid, it equals out to love
If the beat's fat I use it, some wack shit, I lose it
Refuse it, how could you chose it, it stinks renuse it

Put down the mic kid 'cuz you gets no dap
How long did it take for you to see you can't rap?
The name is Phife Dawg and I got nuff style
It doesn't take long for me to get buckwild

So bust what I'm swingin', what I'm swingin' when I swing
I rap when I rap 'cuz I never wanna sing
Go ask the last MC what happened when he said battle
I bust his ass in Cleveland, now he's Sleepless in Seattle

Rude bwoy official comin' with the ill grammar
Comin' back on kids like Joey Montana
We be the three MC's to make your mind go batty
Mad play on WKRP in Cincinnati

So Lord, send a hon, if ya kyant send a han sen a man
An if ya kyan sen a man, come yaself
'Cuz all deez bitin' MC's, lawd dem somethin' else
See, I kick the styles that'll make ya ass melt

Money on my mind so never mind a trick
New York is the town and the team is the Knicks
World's greatest five footer, rippin' parties apart
Here comes Shaheed with the big green shark
Never had to rhyme about feelin' what with lead
Never mind dat mon here come de dread

We comin' far, far, far
Busta Rhymes is comin' far, far, far
Ya know ya hear me Star
Bet your bottom dollah

Right after this jam about one million, one two niggaz go follow
Whether it be today or tomorrow
Niggaz be collaboratin' sickening
You beat them like they father

Oh, shit, check out what I saying
Ah hah, ah hah, oh, ah hah, ah, hah
You know my niggaz don't be playing
Once upon a mah, hah, hacking time

I received the opportunities to represent my first rhymes
To define, lyrical sensations
Black masons blowin' up the spot
Just to represent the Nations

Three dimensions, tri-clops, Mr. Busta Rhymes three eyes
Fat like a burger and fries
Mama so mama saa mamma ma kosah
Go back to the country to go check my grand mama

Eeeyah, bring it to the table at the meetings
Gathering large receivings, delivering intellectual ass beatings
As I carry on with my proceedings
Greetings, watch a nigga debut on premier movie screenings

But before I be face to face with my eternal resting place
I hope you find civilized every soul and every race
Sit, dog sit
Busta Rhymes forever on that ultrasonic shit

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Next Man - Lyrics - Whitey Ford Sings The Blues - Everlast

Title: Next Man
Album: Whitey Ford Sings The Blues
Artist: Everlast
Composer(s): Dante Ross, Erik Schrody, Johnny Teupen

Lyric:
Aha
And there, but for the grace of God, go I
It's kinda neat
I wonder what it means

I rock a jam for love, I quit my band for love
I'll smack the chrome tool right out your hand for love
Make you cry like a dove, leave you standin' alone
In a world so cold, watch the drama unfold

'Cause you sell your soul, now you're fearin' your death
Sniffin' crystal meth 'til there ain't none left
But, rock bottom hurts when you hit it
You start to reflect on all the friends you shitted

You probably won't admit it
So you start to sink lower
You're caught in the flood
And you're tryin' to find Noah

If you hungry and your near me yo, you gonna get fed
If you sleepy and you need a place to lay your head
Then come take my bed, I'll sleep on the floor
'Cause these are the times that friends are for

I see everybody out here doin' for self
And they don't give a damn on the next man
Puttin' status and wealth over God and health
I can't wait 'til you the next man

I see everybody out here doin' for self
And they don't give a damn on the next man
Puttin' status and wealth over God and health
I can't wait 'til you the next man

I get uptight for love, you know I'll fight for love
I might keep my wifey up all night for love
And when the daylight comes, I be seein' mad bums
With no shoes on their feet, plus nothin' to eat

I can't save the whole street, so I feel like I'm beat
And why play the game when nothin' goin' to change
The only change that's wanted is loose in my jeans
I get rushed on every corner by a bum or a fiend

Tryin' to keep my dean, I try to give to the poor
Tryin' to get through this life and get through that door
I'm all up in this mix for these final tics
Goin' all the way to seven and it's half past six

I see everybody out here doin' for self
And they don't give a damn on the next man
Puttin' status and wealth over God and health
I can't wait 'til you the next man

I see everybody out here doin' for self
And they don't give a damn on the next man
Puttin' status and wealth over God and health
I can't wait 'til you the next man

I pray to God for love, I'll make Jihad for love
And I just might pull your freakin' card for love
Make you sing, 'Hey Love' like my man King Son
I freak the art noise over all you toys

Better bring your boys, summon all your crew
No matter what you do, it's comin' back on you
Just like a planet orbits, let your sponge absorb it
It's logical conclusion, it's b-boy fusion

And confusion say that he want control
Of your mentality, your body and your soul
So if you lose your whole, come and take my hand
And link up this jam 'cause money that's the plan

Tryin' to get through this maze, not to win this race
We either ridin' on our horse or walkin' on our face
So come take your place on the side of love
And swallow up your ego and your pride for love

I see everybody out here doin' for self
And they don't give a damn on the next man
Puttin' status and wealth over God and health
I can't wait 'til you the next man

I see everybody out here doin' for self
And they don't give a damn on the next man
Puttin' status and wealth over God and health
I can't wait 'til you the next man
I can't wait 'til you the next man
I can't wait 'til you the next man

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We’re Back - Lyrics - The Re-Up - Eminem

Title: We’re Back
Album: The Re-Up
Artist: Eminem
Composer(s): Ramone Johnson, Stanley Bernard Benton, Marshall Mathers, A. Rogers, Obie Trice, Luis Edgardo Resto

Lyric:
Shady
We're back

Nothing can stop and nothing can change it
And you better just make new livin' arrangements
If you think you the top and king of the castle
You about to be thrown off the throne and ripped a new asshole

All I hear is I'm the best at this and I'm best at that
But I don't hear my name, no name brought up in rap
And I don't usually trip or damn get caught up in that
But when they say one of the best

I'm nowhere thought up as that, not even the same league
As Jay-Z, Nas, Pac, Biggie or maybe
The name me somewhere down at the bottom, right after AZ
Or say he ripped that Biggie verse, or that Jay-Z

Yo his verses were crazy, on that "Renegade" beat
But I ain't never bought no whole CD of Shady
And all I hear is pop tunes come on the Radio
And they play 'em 20 times in a row daily

And they very well maybe the same reason they don't say me
When they speak on hip-hop legends which is amaze me
'Cause I thought the formula was to hit mainstream
And make it big b-b-big b-b-baby

So maybe the eighties made me crazy
I've been tryin' to get my weight up since the ace Slim Shady
Gave me the gate key, paved the way
So lately, my stakes gets better each day

Replay my relay race
When I was chasin' the afee at eighteen
Eight years later his voice in Beijing
No choice I chase cream, so

Shady
Stat Quo, we're back

This is what I eat, sleep and breath and feed my kids
Would it fulfill all my family needs c'mon
I treat the mic like the block, fuck with my rocks, and squeeze
Critics expecting me to underachieve

I just deal with the hate I receive
By rolling back my sleeves sure was a breeze
I bring him right to his knees
And tell him "Suck my dick" I take a bow and leave
With a sack full of unmarked cheese

I find it hard to believe who to pull or proceed
To be G's and claim they runnin' shit nigga I run me
As a kid, teacher said I had a mouth on me
The same mouth got me the deal with Dre and E

Folk in the hood be askin', where I be
Dogg, I'm out in Hawaii, don't like it? Drink my pee
Record song for the "Detox" LP
Feet don't fail he

Niggas got me bent like Cranberry and Belvee
I'ma die wealthy
Boss in the game, what the fuck they gon' tell me?
A towns auntre, Aftermath, Shady

Shady
Bobby Creek, we're back

Y'all market y'all block, they sent me to corner that
Rap game's an old flame, my nigga I want 'em back
Like mic check, pimp for what it's worth I got the right net
Sittin' here excited by some shit that ain't right yet

No regret, live by a code you don't know 'bout
Y'all niggas won't be certified till I show I
Go out on a limb with 'em 'cause I'm wid him
Put a barrel to the apparel of you and some of them

Stand a chance, at the dance, without a Bow tie
Shady Records re-introduce you niggas to Mow-ti
So high, of the light that they have given me
And the haters like a shofurr because it's driven me

To a view with a vendetta I am the apitomee
I don't give a fuck about ya nigga I'm just livin' me
We the reason for the season so I'm breezin' through the track
Nigga

Shady
Cashis

I can prove I'm here to do something you never do
From hand to hand coke sales, from my revenue
I ain't been to a function, where I ain't snuck a weapon through
'Cause my background reveals a one eight seven too

To the block, I'm the truth to the cops, I'm the proof of this
And niggas still out there, you just gotta shoot
I carry over my street ethics, to the booth
And the shady crime fam, Al Capone in his youth

The difference between me and you, I already done it
And lived the street life, niggas run away from if
You follow my life, in a midwest blunted
Pitchforks held high, four fifth by the stomach

You can find me right now, on the C.A. streets
I'm on the roof of the building, shooting at police
Some of the homies feel opposition can't kill me
I'm a walking obituary, death lived in me

I take life through the pen, by the way I'ma see
Or have you raped in the pen like American meat
I'm connected gettin' weight from MS 13
With S.K's, A.R's and Mini fourteens

I'm Cashis, the last of the real, with a strap
On Pro-sac, D's and E-Pills, it's a rap
Get the block on tip, two for tens of crack
I'm in a lifetime contract, Shady's back, nigga

Shady
Ha! I told you we was back
We're back

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314ddf5b6ddbd432e2ca1a03c98c1016

Kneight Riduz Wuz Here - Lyrics - Krayzie Bone

Title: Kneight Riduz Wuz Here
Artist: Krayzie Bone
Composer(s): Kimberly Laurice Ward, Richard Drake, Actavius Mills, Anthony Henderson

Lyric:
As the new world order takes us into the year 2000
The shadows of death over the sky causin' total destruction
As we transform day into night, darkness falls down upon us
We rise from the fog uncomparable to any other form of life
Together we ride by night, unidentified, unseen, unknown
Yes we are the pirates

Our mission is to destroy enemies by any means necessary
And those who interfere with prosecution for execution
Shall indeed be terminated any race be gone
For we are the Kneight Riduz
Killers of the night and first of our kind

Can't you feels the temperature droppin' gettin' cold?
Below zero murda mo go slow flow under your door
Is it magic? No it's murda they don't know
That we're pirates by night we get violent like fighters fightin'

Can't you feels the temperature droppin' gettin' cold?
Below zero murda mo go slow flow under your door
Is it magic? No it's murda they don't know
That we're pirates by night we get violent like fighters fightin'

You're takin' chances runnin' around upon me
I got somethin' waitin' in a cage for you
Wipe that smile off your face when you see us ridin' through
Killin' 'em all till everyone fall

You get out of my way or you're subject to get killed without the clues
I thought people should continues bouncin'
A war right now is not what you're really wantin'
Pirates got the world on lock down, we rule from the darkness

We come from beneath the ground, so who wants to party?
We got runnin' up with slugs for everybody
Renovate the town in blood with a slaughter
What's the matter you're not soundin' so tough?

Am I callin' your bluff? When them high tides
Come crashin' ashes to ashes and dust to dust
We are the pirates, the pirates
Yes we are the pirates, pirates

Can't you feels the temperature droppin' gettin' cold?
Below zero murda mo go slow flow under your door
Is it magic? No it's murda they don't know
That we're pirates by night we get violent like fighters fightin'

Can't you feels the temperature droppin' gettin' cold?
Below zero murda mo go slow flow under your door
Is it magic? No it's murda they don't know
That we're pirates by night we get violent like fighters fightin'

Wanna come fuck with me?
Me bloody matey got me back so check your tick-tock
How many minutes ya got before you drop? been shot
The smell of gun powder fills the air

Bleeding terribly lying there you beg for mercy we don't care
Bloody bodies stacked up in a pile and set the fire
It's the pirates behind all this violence it's not the devil
It's rebellin' with my shovel, with my victims lifeless

Tossed over my shoulder as I showed him to his hell-hole
Dead foes to the bottom
Us pirates be heartless my conscious was fuckin' with me I shot him
And got 'em all believe me

We gonna [Incomprehensible] crazy and I'm silent until my other mode
We front the under land understand, understand?
We live to die so we fear no man not at all
Every time we call stay outta the way and outta the dark

And just hope to God, that he'll just come and kill us all
We all gonna dies, it's the ways of life wildest new generation pirates
Us new generation pirates, pirates, us new generation pirates, pirates

Can't you feels the temperature droppin' gettin' cold?
Below zero murda mo go slow flow under your door
Is it magic? No it's murda they don't know
That we're pirates by night we get violent like fighters fightin'

Can't you feels the temperature droppin' gettin' cold?
Below zero murda mo go slow flow under your door
Is it magic? No it's murda they don't know
That we're pirates by night we get violent like fighters fightin'

Up in my temple proceedin' I'm waitin' to taste your
Blood run through my veins and see you gasping out my name
You'll be sayin', "Psycho bitch, psycho, psycho, psycho"
See the fear that's in your face is how I kill you

I have to fill my thirst so now I gots to kill you
We are all forgotten souls nightmare of every boy and girl
Kneight Riduh pirates the leaders of the underworld
I'm so happy, happy knowin' my torture brought you pain

Play in my little game you hide I'll blow out your brain
Isn't that fun? Whoever wants some you can hide but you can't run
I cut off your legs now beg, yes beg, 1-2 Riduz comin' for you
3-4 you shoulda locked your door, let me in

Can't you feels the temperature droppin' gettin' cold?
Below zero murda mo go slow flow under your door
Is it magic? No it's murda they don't know
That we're pirates by night we get violent like fighters fightin'

Can't you feels the temperature droppin' gettin' cold?
Below zero murda mo go slow flow under your door
Is it magic? No it's murda they don't know
That we're pirates by night we get violent like fighters fightin'

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ef47bc4f2e515f78b000bb70b0546606

Problems - Lyrics - Az

Title: Problems
Artist: Az
Composer(s): Mark Curry, Anthony Cruz, Eldra De Barge, D Blyden

Lyric:
I had some problems
And no one could seem to solve them
But you found the answer
Told me to take this chance

Soakin' in Remy, sittin' back smokin' a twenty
Shit is scabby, the hustlin' is so in me
Never show envy, got a style I maxed
I'm like po' back in eighty-fo', now smile at that

Unseen when I'm low but still right in your face
I'm so skinny but that semi-auto's right in my waist
From jags to jeeps, hoop ties with the raggedy seats
Just imagine how I'm movin' if we had any beef

Beats, relax me, good cheeba keeps me nasty
Lower the smoke when I see the D's creepin' past me
Duckin' the NARC's, born bustin' Dutches apart
Love pussy wit pretty lips, when you fuck it, it fart

Friend or foe, freak for the rims that glow
Rock Timbs if it's summer or ten below
Love the streets, the science of the drugs that's deep
I'm just another nigga next up, tryin' to eat

I had some problems
(You know)
And no one could seem to solve them
(Not a soul, baby)
You found the answer
(It's all for y'all now)
Told me to take this chance

But it seems, y'all would rather see me hit than see my rich
Get bagged over some bullshit and see me snitch
Hopin' some AIDS ho, bitch'll leave me sick
Like I'm a sucker for love wit some easy dick

I did dirt through my days but hid my work
Even then I still made sure no kids got hurt
Sweep the next, been knowin' since my feet got wet
From the best turned vet learned to speak direct

My game's jumpin', we all had our days of barkin'
You could tell niggaz styles by they ways of parkin'
Why dispute it? Dough got us so polluted
Paranoid to the point, it's like we over-do it

Police press up, peep how the beasts arrest ya
Rough up, handcuff, then treat you lesser
Toast on me, smoke spray our potpourri
Y'all can bet I'ma rep how it's supposed to be

I had some problems
(You know)
And no one could seem to solve them
(Not a soul, baby)
You found the answer
(It's all for y'all now)
Told me to take this chance
(I got it locked, feel me)

Infinite game, get chills on the strength of my chain
It's only real, certain niggaz mention my name
Some relate, others stay numb in the face
Tryin' to keep steps ahead like we runnin' a race

Nikes and Timbs, lady friends like 'em slim
Light makeup, that shit that blend right wit they skin
So what's the issue? All dick sucks is still official
Cold-steel nickels and Phil, I'm still wit you

Iceberg-in on the Turnpike mergin'
Late night, right brake lights black excursion
Tree smokin', hustle the rap I'ma keep ropin'
Too many niggaz got deep emotions

The stress got 'em, who else wanna express they problems
Get upset but real vets respect the bottom
To a false, feel a fake love or hate
Right or wrong as long as the thugs relate

I had some problems
(You know)
And no one could seem to solve them
(Not a soul, baby)
You found the answer
(It's all for y'all now)
Told me to take this chance
(What y'all want from me?)

I had some problems
And no one could seem to solve them
But you found the answer
Told me to take this chance

I had some problems
And no one could seem to solve them
But you found the answer
Told me to take this chance

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30ef908446f9ef53d198726eb2e74bf5

You Can Do It - Lyrics - Gwen Stefani

Title: You Can Do It
Artist: Gwen Stefani
Composer(s): Thomas Dumont, Tony Kanal, Eric Stefani, Greg Stefani

Lyric:
Since you've been gone, since you've been unglued
It's hard to figure out your next move
One minute here, the next you're gone
Let's make an end to this sad, sad song

For you, it's hard to take
'Cause the pill has an awful taste
Just open up and swallow down
Once it hits bottom things may turn around

Unfortunately, this is the case
You've got to catch up and win the race
And straighten yourself out
You can do it, you're gonna do it
Jumpin' through it, yeah, yeah

Everything you say has been taken wrong
Enough to say it's a sad, sad song
They can't understand that you mean to do good
I guess you could say you're misunderstood

I know you're meaning well
But you've been shot to hell
Just come back and join us now
'Cause I know that you know how

Unfortunately, this is the case
You've got to catch up and win the race
Oh, straighten yourself out
You can do it, you're gonna do it
Jumpin' through it, yeah, yeah

I know it seems they're messing with your mind
But you don't have to go forward blind
So let the bygones be bygones
And let's make an end to this sad, sad song

Unfortunately, this is the case
You've got to catch up and win the race
And straighten yourself out

You can do it, you're gonna do it
Jumpin through it, you're gonna do it
You'll get through it, you're gonna do it
You can do it, you're gonna do it
You can do it, you're gonna do it
You can do it, you're gonna do it
You can do it, so get to it
You can do it, you're gonna do it
You can do it
You can do it
You can do it
You can do it
You can do it

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fe9dcdf5b13a696cb6f6937c1d34dfe2

This Is Gangsta - Lyrics - On My Way to Church - Jim Jones

Title: This Is Gangsta
Album: On My Way to Church
Artist: Jim Jones
Composer(s): P. Corley, Joseph Guillermo Jones, R Robinson, Laron James

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

Lyric:
Dipset bitch, Juelz Santana
Yeah, 2004, it's a brand new muthafuckin' year
I hope you know that, you already know
And we are in total control once a muthafuckin' gain, nigga
Dipset in the building, Juelz Santana, Jim Jones
Killa muthafuckin' Cam, Freeky Zeeky

Live from the bottom of the pot where crack is cooked at
I'm back like cooked crack and I rap like cooked crack
That's a good match and that's some good crack

My gun hotter then the stove is on
So hot even I thought the stove was on
But the stove was off, I was just rollin' hot
I was just rome the block

Hard body, I'm a rolling block
Dodge squally, I don't know the cops
I don't know them rats, no, I don't condone in that
I'm in my zone in fact, ain't no holdin' back

The 4'll mac when the beefin' is on
Niggas cheat when it's on
Niggas get reef when its on
They can't believe when it's on
But it's me when it's on

But it is and this is what I do so
What it is, what it be, what's the scoop, yo?
Normally, I don't ask that
Normally, I just blast that

But you an exception pussy
Your girl told me you just obsessed with pussy
And you can't fuck, you just upset the pussy
I'm somethin' mean to watch
My machine'll pop, lift off your halipino top

Now I've been seen in drop coops, oops
Radar detectors, you can't catch me copper
You just upset me copper, I'm on a jet ski copper

Now if this ain't gangsta and that ain't gangsta
Then what is gangsta?
Nigga, I am gangsta, who ain't gangsta?
You ain't gangsta

Now if this ain't gangsta and that ain't gangsta
Then what is gangsta?
Nigga, I am gangsta, who ain't gangsta?
You ain't gangsta

The truth is I'm what the games been needin'
Food for thought, the fuck man you lames been eatin' them lies
I move the streets, do follow, I speed race, why?
Not through the streets 'cause police do follow, so watch 'em

These niggas throw flappy and sick, that's right
We young cold flashy and rich, plus we gun hoe
And SPZ on a bitch 'cause we don't pay for the pussy
The beef cum we don't lay for the pussy

Fuck 'em, watch 'em, got 'em, spot 'em
Pop 'em, drop 'em, lay 'em down
Now Lord, forgive us, pray for us
Gangstas, say what? We all religious
And y'all wangstas I swear you give us the shivers

Dipset, the new black panthers
The boys ask us questions, man, we do not answer
Life's too short for me to pull my pants up
I'm tryna let my nuts hang, system out the truck bang, bang

That's certified gangsta, you heard about me
Well, then you heard about gangsta
I'll beat the brace off a nigga
But I'm tryna keep the tapes off a nigga

To get rich we do whatever we have to do
And when we hit the hood our presence be grabbin' you
Foul hundreds the 7th's Avenue
And niggas feel the pressure whenever we mashin' through
Dipset

Now if this ain't gangsta and that ain't gangsta
Then what is gangsta?
Nigga, I am gangsta, who ain't gangsta?
You ain't gangsta

Now if this ain't gangsta and that ain't gangsta
Then what is gangsta?
Nigga, I am gangsta, who ain't gangsta?
You ain't gangsta

You ain't gangsta, listen up, I grip a pump
Squeeze 3 and have any OG bitchin' up
Man, he a missing chump and if not the big glock
Our big shots, so doc can't stitch him up

I'm from the city where it's easy to make doe
Easy to bake hoes, it's easy to make 4's
You gettin' them pencils, the pigs and the checks know
Next week they'll have you sittin' on stake road

From HOC to CF to CF
Can't hold me, I'm prone to this BS
So imagine Bez on the phone gettin' key check
Fresh outta DC lampin' in the GS

That's how niggas do go get a clip or 2
Fifth or glock, get a block, hit the spot, flip a few
And for a brick or 2, the led I carry, shit
I'm reditary and your kids could get it too

Now if this ain't gangsta and that ain't gangsta
Then what is gangsta?
Nigga, I am gangsta, who ain't gangsta?
You ain't gangsta

Now if this ain't gangsta and that ain't gangsta
Then what is gangsta?
Nigga, I am gangsta, who ain't gangsta?
You ain't gangsta

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5667e9eda2836f895252485359fae9d5

Born N Raised - Lyrics - El Mariel - Pitbull

Title: Born N Raised
Album: El Mariel
Artist: Pitbull
Composer(s): Armando Perez, William Roberts, Andrew Harr, Johnny David Mollings, Leonardo Mollings, Maurice Young, Jermaine Jackson

Lyric:
Born n raised in the County of Dade

Born n raised, born, born n raised
Born n raised in the County of Dade
(DJ Khaled)
Born, born n raised, born, born n raised
(And when I ride, I ride for 305)
Born, born n raised in the County of Dade

(Trick Daddy)
Born n raised, born, born n raised
(And when I ride, I ride for 305)
Born, born n raised in the County of Dade
(Rick Ross)

(Pitbull)
Born, born n raised in the, born n raised in the
(And when I ride, I ride for 305)
Born n raised in the County of Dade
(The Bottom, listen, nigga)

'Til a nigga D I E, I be forever thuggin', baby
The same nigga, that's why the streets still love me, baby
Bitch, I'm from Dade County
See, I'ma 7-Trey Chevrolet Impala Dunk Ryder

I'll blow ya doors off
You race your car 'gainst my car
I'll leave your ass so far you'll doze off
And when I take off, it's like I took off
And when I ride by, it's like I fly by

You like slow motion, all in 3-D
'Cuz everywhere I go, they be like, ?There he go"
I fit the description, black tee and dickies
Big glock wit me, a Dade County nigga

Born n raised, born, born n raised
(It's that little chico Pitbull)
Born n raised in the County of Dade
(I'd just like to welcome y'all to where I been born)

Born, born n raised, born, born n raised
(Aye, Khaled, spin that up, dog)
(I been raised in the County of Dade, you know?)
Born, born n raised in the County of Dade

Born n raised, born, born n raised
(You got them boys that pass by in them old school Chevys)
(Wit the top downs)
Born, born n raised in the County of Dade
(Bass that, you know, make the trunk rattle)

Born, born n raised in the, born n raised in the
(Rear-views shake)
Born n raised in the County of Dade
(Then they look at you wit they golds smilin')
(Let you know what it is)

I been born and raised in the County of Dade
The land of the haze, the cocaine capitol
We ain't just hittin' you, buddy, we Warren Sapp'n ya
We comin' hard like them Cubans in the '80s, dog

Go ahead, throw it in the pot, I bet it's raw
Pero ten cuidado con un tumbe porque se lo llevan todo
Llama al babalaow preguntale por un depojo
Pero tu no puedes con los lobos

Everything that I do, do
Everything that I say, say
Everywhere that I go, I let 'em know
Hey, I'm from the County of Dade

Old school Chevy heaven
Old school niggas preachin'
Young niggas whylin'
Gettin' rich off ki's and violence

Trick, he's the mayor, Luke, he's the king
I'm Mr. 305, put that on a triple Beam
I bet it weigh out more than a boat load of ki's
Holla at them Haitians, let them know this licks on me
What's up, Dade?

Born n raised, born, born n raised
(You see him, you see him)
Born, born n raised in the County of Dade
(Ross)

Born, born n raised, born, born n raised
(You see him, you see him)
Born, born n raised in the County of Dade
(Trick)

Born n raised, born, born n raised
(Pitbull)
Born, born n raised in the County of Dade
(DJ Khaled, 305 M I yayo)
Born, born n raised in the, born n raised in the
Born n raised in the County of Dade

I got road dogs doin' that 20-to-life
You try me and I'ma get 20 tonight
You think your bitch bad, boy, I got 20 alike
Not the car but they know I be pushin' the white

Dippin' Chevy in syrup, digital dash
No bank accounts, my money in bags
Go do the physics 'cause when I whip it
And I love to whip it, that's just another digit

This is my city, in my city ya gotta tote fire
Over town, they'll bust ya head 'cuz it won't slide
Brown sub will wet your ass like a Dunk Ryde
You're dead wrong for thinkin' them chicos won't ride

Opa-Locka revolve around that big 4 5
Them lil' Haitians, they take your ass for a boat ride
In Carol City, niggas quick to blow the plane wit it
Unpack the sack and kill the game wit it

Born n raised, born, born n raised
Born n raised in the County of Dade
Born, born n raised, born, born n raised
Born, born n raised in the County of Dade

Born n raised, born, born n raised
Born, born n raised in the County of Dade
Born, born n raised in the, born n raised in the
Born n raised in the County of Dade

Yeah, it's DJ Khaled, Do Or Die
Big Dog, Pitbull, Terror Squad-ian, a.k.a the Beat Novocaine
Rest in peace to my dog, Uncle Al
I rep my city, Dade County, The Movement, The Movement

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2fec49ffd5a8f0bcb1a192075610fe58

Oh My God (Remix) - Lyrics - The Love Movement - A Tribe Called Quest

Title: Oh My God (Remix)
Album: The Love Movement
Artist: A Tribe Called Quest
Composer(s): Robert Bell, Ronald Bell, George Brown, John Davis, Handy, Robert Mickens, Ali Muhammad, Gene C Redd, Claydes Smith, Woodrow Sparrow, Malik Taylor, Dennis Thomas, Richard Westfield

Lyric:
Oh, my God, oh, my God
Oh, my God, oh, my God
Oh, my God, oh, my God
Oh, my God, oh, my God

Oh, my God, oh, my God
Oh, my God, oh, my God
Oh, my God, oh, my God
Oh, my God, oh, my God

Listen up everybody, the bottom line
I'm a black intellect but unrefined
With precision like a bullet, target bound
Just livin', like a hooker, the harlot sounds

Now when I say the harlot, you know I mean the hot
Heat in the equator, the brothers in the pot
Jalick, Jalick ya wind up ya hip
Draftin' of the poets, I'm the number seven pick

Licks, licks, licks, boy pon your backside
Licks, licks, licks, boy pon your backside
Listen to the fader, Shaheed let's it glide
Tip the earthly body, heaven's on my side

Even in Santo Domingo, man I gotta Gringo
Yo, we got mics, when do we go?
Know a little nigga who can rhyme when you ask me
Short, dark, plus his voice is raspy

One for the treble, two for the bass
You know my style Tip, now watch me rip this
I like my beats harder than two day old shit
Steady eatin' booty MCs like cheese grits

My man Al B. sure, he's in effect mode
Used to have a crush on Dawn from En Vogue
It's not like honey dip would wanna get with me
But just in case I own more condoms than TLC

Now the formula is this, me, Tip and Ali
For those who can't count it goes one, two, three
The answer, big up is who I who
Brothas find this hard to do but never me

Some brothas try to dis Malik, you see'm catchin' me
And I care 'bout them booty MCs, my shit be hittin'
Trainin' gladiator, anti-hesitater
Shaheed push the fader from here to Granada
Mister Energetic, who me, sound pathetic?
When's the last time you heard a funky diabetic?

I don't know man, I don't know man
I don't know man, I don't know, I don't know

Oh, my God, oh, my God
Oh, my God, oh, my God
Oh, my God, oh, my God
Oh, my God, oh, my God

Oh, my God, oh, my God
Oh, my God, oh, my God
Oh, my God, oh, my God
Oh, my God, oh, my God

Complimentary, The Thief of Poetry
I got a humdinger comin' hook, line and sinker
The Timbo hits with the prints underground
Timbo's on the toes, I love the way it's goin' down

Down like the lady of the evenin'
And when it goes in, honey, just believe the sin
'Cuz Queens is the county, Jamaica is the place
Take off your boots 'cuz you can't run the race

See, this is how we do when we keep it on and on
Do what
Got my man, Big Mo with the streets and the papes
My man Big Mo with the streets and Caprice

This is how we do when we keep the wildin' sheets
'Cuz we got to do it like this, we aim to please
See ya next LP and next CD and next cassette
Yo, we about to jet

We A Tribe Called Quest and we the Midnight Marauders
Tribe Called Quest and we the Midnight Marauders
See ya next time 'cuz we the Midnight Marauders
Aiyo, we out 'cuz we the Midnight Marauders
Go to the record store and get the shit

We work hard
We A Tribe Called Quest and we the Midnight Marauders
Queens got it's own and Brooklyn got it's own
Like that

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02784739778300516c6fe96a99f60227

Oh My God - Lyrics - Midnight Marauders - A Tribe Called Quest

Title: Oh My God
Album: Midnight Marauders
Artist: A Tribe Called Quest
Composer(s): Robert Bell, Ronald Bell, George Brown, John Davis, Handy, Robert Mickens, Ali Muhammad, Gene C Redd, Claydes Smith, Woodrow Sparrow, Malik Taylor, Dennis Thomas, Richard Westfield

Lyric:
Oh, my God, oh, my God
Oh, my God, oh, my God
Oh, my God, oh, my God
Oh, my God, oh, my God

Oh, my God, oh, my God
Oh, my God, oh, my God
Oh, my God, oh, my God
Oh, my God, oh, my God

Listen up everybody, the bottom line
I'm a black intellect but unrefined
With precision like a bullet, target bound
Just livin', like a hooker, the harlot sounds

Now when I say the harlot, you know I mean the hot
Heat in the equator, the brothers in the pot
Jalick, Jalick ya wind up ya hip
Draftin' of the poets, I'm the number seven pick

Licks, licks, licks, boy pon your backside
Licks, licks, licks, boy pon your backside
Listen to the fader, Shaheed let's it glide
Tip the earthly body, heaven's on my side

Even in Santo Domingo, man I gotta Gringo
Yo, we got mics, when do we go?
Know a little nigga who can rhyme when you ask me
Short, dark, plus his voice is raspy

One for the treble, two for the bass
You know my style Tip, now watch me rip this
I like my beats harder than two day old shit
Steady eatin' booty MCs like cheese grits

My man Al B. sure, he's in effect mode
Used to have a crush on Dawn from En Vogue
It's not like honey dip would wanna get with me
But just in case I own more condoms than TLC

Now the formula is this, me, Tip and Ali
For those who can't count it goes one, two, three
The answer, big up is who I who
Brothas find this hard to do but never me

Some brothas try to dis Malik, you see'm catchin' me
And I care 'bout them booty MCs, my shit be hittin'
Trainin' gladiator, anti-hesitater
Shaheed push the fader from here to Granada
Mister Energetic, who me, sound pathetic?
When's the last time you heard a funky diabetic?

I don't know man, I don't know man
I don't know man, I don't know, I don't know

Oh, my God, oh, my God
Oh, my God, oh, my God
Oh, my God, oh, my God
Oh, my God, oh, my God

Oh, my God, oh, my God
Oh, my God, oh, my God
Oh, my God, oh, my God
Oh, my God, oh, my God

Complimentary, The Thief of Poetry
I got a humdinger comin' hook, line and sinker
The Timbo hits with the prints underground
Timbo's on the toes, I love the way it's goin' down

Down like the lady of the evenin'
And when it goes in, honey, just believe the sin
'Cuz Queens is the county, Jamaica is the place
Take off your boots 'cuz you can't run the race

See, this is how we do when we keep it on and on
Do what
Got my man, Big Mo with the streets and the papes
My man Big Mo with the streets and Caprice

This is how we do when we keep the wildin' sheets
'Cuz we got to do it like this, we aim to please
See ya next LP and next CD and next cassette
Yo, we about to jet

We A Tribe Called Quest and we the Midnight Marauders
Tribe Called Quest and we the Midnight Marauders
See ya next time 'cuz we the Midnight Marauders
Aiyo, we out 'cuz we the Midnight Marauders
Go to the record store and get the shit

We work hard
We A Tribe Called Quest and we the Midnight Marauders
Queens got it's own and Brooklyn got it's own
Like that

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153b16aa79573cb4f313519d42161a8e

Hold On Hold Out - Lyrics - Jackson Browne

Title: Hold On Hold Out
Artist: Jackson Browne
Composer(s): Jackson Browne, Craig Doerge

Lyric:
Hold on, hold out, keep a hold on strong
The money's in and the bets are down
You won't hold out long
They say you'll fall in no time at all
But you know they're wrong but known it all along

Yeah, hold on, hold out, keep a hold on still
If you don't see what your love is worth no one ever will
You've done your time on the bottom line and it ain't no thrill
There's got to be something more, keep a hold on still
You know what it is you're waiting for
Now you just hold on, hold on, hold out, hold on

Give up your heart and you lose your way
Trusting another to feel that way
Give up your heart and you'll find yourself
Living for something in somebody else
Sometimes you wonder what happens to love
Sometimes the touch of a friend is enough

Hold a place for the human race and keep it open wide
Give it time to fall or climb, let the time decide
Sometimes you wonder what's in this for you
But you wait and you see 'cause that's all you can do
Just to hold on, hold on, hold out, hold on

For the countless souls beaten by their goals
Keep a hold on now
And the ones betrayed by the deals they made
Keep a hold on, keep a hold on
If you hold your ground, it'll turn around
Keep a hold somehow

Hold on, hold out, keep a hold on tight
Tonight's the night, wake up and turn on the light
You fight, you're right, it's gonna take all your might

You're a hold out, well, I'm a hold out too
But it took me all this time to figure out
Something you already knew
Will love be true? Can I pull you through?
How long? How strong? Some things depend on you

See, I always figured I was gonna meet somebody here
And I don't know why, why should love suddenly come down
And just sweep me away? I want to fly
But there are so many things in my way
Anyway, I guess you wouldn't know unless I told you
I, I love you, and just look at yourself
I mean, what else would I do?

Hold on, keep a hold on
Hold on, keep a hold on
Hold on, keep a hold on
...

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4b0c3073d52a50d096c681a535148acc

Master &Amp; Slave - Lyrics - Carnival Of Souls: The Final Sessions - Kiss

Title: Master &Amp; Slave
Album: Carnival Of Souls: The Final Sessions
Artist: Kiss
Composer(s): Curtis Anthony Cuomo, Paul Stanley, Bruce Kulick

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

Lyric:
Life, a movie in my head
A page of lines we read
The words remain unsaid

Time, a race you never win
Look back at where we've been
And throw the towel in

Every time I see a sign
Tell me what's the bottom line, tell me
I just wanna take my turn
Now before I crash and burn, yeah

Hope, a candle burning bright
A temporary light
Till we return tonight

Love, the mighty drug we crave
The master and the slave
Will rule us to our grave

Every time I see a sign
Tell me what's the bottom line, tell me
I just want a place to rest
Count to four and catch my breath

One, two, three, four

I don't know what to feel
Don't know what to say
Don't know what to do

I don't know where to go
Don't know who to be
Don't know who to know

Life is never what it seems
It shakes you from your dreams
Wake up and start to

Every time I see a sign
Tell me what's the bottom line, tell me
I just want a place to rest
Stop and let me catch my breath

Every time I see a sign
Tell me what's the bottom line, tell me
Forget all that I've been told
I just wanna lose control

Every time I see a sign
Tell me what's the bottom line, tell me
I just wanna take my turn
Now before I crash and burn

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0999622a5b3abd5ebaef2b773f1bcab1

Up On Cripple Creek - Lyrics - Band

Title: Up On Cripple Creek
Artist: Band
Composer(s): Robbie Robertson

Lyric:
When I get off of this mountain
You know where I want to go
Straight down the Mississippi river
To the Gulf of Mexico
To Lake Charles Louisiana
Little Bessie, girl that I once knew
She told me just to come on by
If there's anything that she could do

Up on Cripple Creek, she sends me
If I spring a leak, she mends me
I don't have to speak, as she defends me
A drunkard's dream if I ever did see one

Good luck had just stung me
To the race track I did go
She bet on one horse to win
And I bet on another to show
The odds were in my favor
I had 'em five to one
When that nag to win came around the track
Sure enough we had won

Up on Cripple Creek, as she sends me
If I spring a leak, as she mends me
I don't have to speak, as she defends me
A drunkard's dream if I ever did see one

I took up all of my winnings
And I gave my little Bessie half
And she tore it up and threw it in my face
Just for a laugh
Now there's one thing in the whole wide world
I sure would like to see
That's when that little love of mine
Dips her doughnut in my tea

Up on Cripple Creek, as she sends me
If I spring a leak, as she mends me
I don't have to speak, as she defends me
A drunkard's dream if I ever did see one

Now me and my mate were back at the shack
We had Spike Jones on the box
She said, "I can't take the way he sings
But I love to hear him talk"
Now that just gave my heart a throb
To the bottom of my feet
And I swore as I took another pull
My Bessie can't be beat

Up on Cripple Creek, as she sends me
If I spring a leak, as she mends me
I don't have to speak, as she defends me
A drunkard's dream if I ever did see one

As there's a flood out in California
And up North it's freezing cold
And this living on the road
Is getting pretty old
So I guess, I'll call up my big mama
Tell her I'll be rolling in
But you know, deep down
I'm kind of tempted
To go and see my Bessie again

Up on Cripple Creek, she sends me
If I spring a leak, she mends me
I don't have to speak, she defends me
A drunkard's dream if I ever did see one

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78925370d73f8c446d34ca014abbdf9a

Cuttin' Heads - Lyrics - John Mellencamp

Title: Cuttin' Heads
Artist: John Mellencamp
Composer(s): Carlton Chuck Ridenhour, Kyle Jason Smith, John Mellencamp

Lyric:
Hey Poppi, yea ho
Hey Poppi, yea ho
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Lay low proud Poppi
(Come on)
Lay low proud Poppi
Shout it out

He's from the Deep South
(Shout it out)
Pass Christian Mississippi

Where the cane breaks
Are burnin' every night
Lay low proud Poppi
(Shout it out)
Shout it out

Hey o, hey o, o Poppi
Hey o, hey o, hey Poppi
Hey o, hey o
(Alright)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Poppi had a wife
And she was black and Poppi was white
(Shout it out)
Everything was rollin' great
(Shout it out)
'Til some man called her race a disgrace, oh no

Hey o, hey o, o Poppi
Hey o, hey o, hey Poppi
Hey o, hey o
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Hey o, hey o, o Poppi
Hey o, hey o, hey Poppi
Hey o, hey o
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

So Poppi went down to the river, hey
To defend the honor of his wife
(Somebody's killin' somebody)
Gonna drown the man in the water
(No, no, no)
(Shout it out)

And the water was shiny like a new knife
But Poppi stopped at the banks of the Delta
He said this sure ain't worth this man's life

Someday the wind of change
Is gonna blow on through
And put all of these jokers right
C'mon and sing now

Hey o, hey o, o Poppi
Hey o, hey o, o Poppi
Hey o, hey o
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Hey o, hey o, o Poppi
Hey o, hey o, hey Poppi
Hey o, hey o
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Papa got a brand new bag dang
Delta blues got 'em dazed and confused
Came a long way crazy, seems the abuse is racisms baby
And it's wild 'cause I connect the word with pain

Now some smile when they scream the name
Funny how the times have changed
And the rhymes have changed
But some cats frame remains the same

Agitating adjective, what gives? Die N word die
But I wanna live knownin' all this
Where the word came from
I must be three times stupid and stuck on dumb

If I use it and confuse it
With a term of love
Now popular culture
Can't stop 'til it gets enough

Underlined in marketing campaigns
I feel undermined
Heard the N word promotes the bottom line
Down by the river there's a great divide, let's ride

Don't call me nigga 'cause you know I don't like it like that
(That's right)
Don't call me nigga 'cause you know I don't like it like that
Don't call me nigga 'cause you know I don't like it like that
(That's right)
Don't call me nigga 'cause you know I don't like it like that
(No, no, no)

Shout it out
(Shout it out)
Yeah, shout it out
Oh, shout it out
Shout it out
Shout it out
(No, no, no)

Hey o, hey o
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Hey o, hey o, o Poppi
Hey o, hey o, hey Poppi
Hey o, hey o
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Hey o, hey o, o Poppi
Hey o, hey o, hey Poppi
Hey o, hey o
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Hey o, hey o, o Poppi
Hey o, hey o, hey Poppi
Hey o, hey o
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
...

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Stewball - Lyrics - Robert Earl Keen

Title: Stewball
Artist: Robert Earl Keen
Composer(s): Robert Earl Jr Keen

Lyric:
There's a big race down in Dallas
Don't you wish that you were there?
You could bet your bottom dollar
On that iron gray mare

Had a black horse named Delilah
And I raised her on the farm
There was thunder, there was lightning
On the day Stewball was born

Won't you bet on Stewball, she might win win win
Bet on Stewball she might win
Bet on Stewball, she might win win win
Bet on Stewball she might win

So I sold off my possessions
And I headed for the town
I brought Stewball here to Dallas
And I laid my money down

Won't you bet on Stewball, she might win win win
Bet on Stewball she might win
Won't you bet on Stewball, she might win win win
Bet on Stewball she might win

All the children are a laughin'
And the women, they a cryin'
All the men folk are a hollerin'
Old Stewball, she's a flyin'

Won't you bet on Stewball, she might win win win
Bet on Stewball she might win
Won't you bet on Stewball, she might win win win
Bet on Stewball she might win

Won't you bet on Stewball, she might win win win
Bet on Stewball she might win
Won't you bet on Stewball, she might win win win
Bet on Stewball she might win

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