Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Road Rats. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Road Rats. Sort by date Show all posts

Monday, August 16, 2010

Road Rats - Lyrics - Lace And Whiskey - Alice Cooper

Title: Road Rats
Album: Lace And Whiskey
Artist: Alice Cooper
Composer(s): Alice Cooper, Dick Wagner

Lyric:
We work this band 'cause we make it rock
But we're the guys who make it roll
We move the amps, the drums and junk

Road rats
We're a pack and the road's our home

We worked the tours half a young man's life
I spend a lot of time
He got no bread to show for it

Road rats
Spent the cash on the chicks we find

We're the men behind the man
We're the backbone muscle clan
Do a thousand one night stands

If the band can take it
If the stars can shake it
Well, if those guys can take it we can
Oh, we can, yeah

We work this band 'cause we make it rock
But we're the guys who make it roll
We move the amps, the drums and junk

Road rats
We're a pack and the road's our home

We're the men behind the man
We're the backbone muscle clan
We do a thousand one night stands

If the band can take it
If the stars can shake it
Well, if those guys can take it
We can, oh, we can, yeah

Road rats, road rats
Road rats, road rats
Road rats, road rats
Road rats, road rats, road rats

Play the MP3 online for free!
061b16990a6a090cdd5e388c176e9289

Rain - Lyrics - Mixtape Messiah 3 - Chamillionaire

Title: Rain
Album: Mixtape Messiah 3
Artist: Chamillionaire
Composer(s): Billy Cook, Khari Brad Jordan, Hakeem Seriki

Lyric:
I was sitting back and I was thinking man
I ain't even trying to deal with this shit no more you know
Cham' I don't know what to do yo, ya know
Seem like every time a nigga make one step man
Nigga take two steps back you feel me

They told me that pain was just in the frame, the irony of that
'Cause that was the slogan showing when they tried to see my tats
Never knew what was in the skin would finally be a fact
Feeling like mother nature's right behind me with a gat

Take that, the rain's loud on the window when it taps
To help with the time I thought that I could finally be relaxed
Tired of being po' yeah, trying to leave the rats
Walk out to see three of your tires that be on flat

And that one tire left a sign of hope
That helps you to keep on grinding when you kinda broke
That helps you to keep composure up around your folk
That keeps from trying to wrap a rope around your throat

Don't choke, you feeling like giving up
Life isn't a million bucks, you feeling like living sucks
God's telling you hear your boy but you don't wanna give Him trust
Mama telling you pay your tithes and you yell at her back for what

To the path took a ride fast to get some rims on his truck
I don't think that they'll miss ten percent of negative bucks
Put some Henny up in your cup your problems will start to drown
But soon as your buzz leaves then problems come back around damn

Keep your head up
Is what they telling me what it better be
Sorry but the world keeps stressing me
Rain drops round up the memories

It's gonna be alright is what they telling me
Don't let the stress get the best of me
Trying to focus on the road that's ahead of me
Till my brain gets clouded by the memory

God knows, how I feel now
On the outside I'm smiling but inside a nigga know he hell bound
It's a dark road and I'm right here in the middle of it
Do I walk slow or if I run am I'm missing something

I took the time out to save a little bread
Now my eyes, got water in 'em
Why the fuck am I still standing here
Nobody love me I ain't happy here
My mama said, she can't handle him
But still, I'm looking at the bright side

But I view it through my other eye, 'cause it's a different color sky
Then the last one, my mind set on the prize that may never come
So do I try to stay alive or do I grab a gun

End it all, put a stop to the pain
That goes on in my head every time it rains
The Devil speaking so you listening to the thoughts
Of an evil spirit in demonic verses and every time I talk

I'm confused by my psychological set backs
In the storm watching out through the wet cracks
Looking for heaven off in all the wrong places
I've given up so all long faces, let it rain

Well keep your head up
Is what they telling me what it better be
Sorry but the world keeps stressing me
Rain drops round up the memories

It's gonna be alright is what they telling me
Don't let the stress get the best of me
Trying to focus on the road that's ahead of me
Till my brain gets clouded by the memory

Your bills keep adding up to be alone you prefer
Bill collectors steady calling, starting to get on your nerves
Your rent due on the first but right now it's the third
Telling yourself it's gon' get better but ain't believing a word

Feel like it's hard to deal, tomorrow it's hard as steel
Not to mention the realest member of your family is getting ill
Tell me it isn't so, tell me it isn't real
In the mist of all the drama you take a lil' time to kneel

To deal you take a pill, just to deal with the drama
You thinking your life sinking and there isn't a plumber
They tell you what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger
You'd have to be a Superman to lift as much as me partna

Could tell you stay strong
You're trying, but help is just what you doubting
'Cause the room is a monsoon, that's never gon' get to drying
The storm is moving on and you thinking these people lying
They saying they had it worse but how come they all keep on smiling

Well keep your head up
Is what they telling me what it better be
Sorry but the world keeps stressing me
Rain drops round up the memories

It's gonna be alright is what they telling me
Don't let the stress get the best of me
Trying to focus on the road that's ahead of me
Till my brain gets clouded by the memory

Don't let stress take control, gonna be alright I know
I'ma make it through fa sho, fa sho yeah
Don't let stress take control, gonna be alright I know
I'ma make it through fa sho, fa sho yeah

Keep your head up
Is what they telling me what it better be
Sorry but the world keeps stressing me
Rain drops round up the memories

It's gonna be alright is what they telling me
Don't let the stress get the best of me
Trying to focus on the road that's ahead of me
Till my brain gets clouded by the memory

My memory, hey yeah
Stressing me, stressing me my memories
That's what they telling me
I'm trying to focus on the road that's ahead of me
By my memories, yeah, yeah

When it seems like nothing but dark clouds
Are raining in on your bright sunny day
Remember the sunlight always comes after the rain
You should be thankful everyday, should be a celebration, of life

Play the MP3 online for free!
b452b121efc2c944c964a8fbef56117c

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Shy - Lyrics - Not A Pretty Girl - Ani Difranco

Title: Shy
Album: Not A Pretty Girl
Artist: Ani Difranco
Composer(s): Angela Difranco

Lyric:
One, two
One, two, three, four

Well, the heat is so great
It plays tricks with the eye
It turns the road into water
And then from water to sky
And there's a crack in the concrete floor
And it starts at the sink
There's a bathroom in a gas station
And I've locked myself in it to think

And back in the city
The sun bakes the trash on the curb
The men are pissing in doorways
And the rats are running in herds
And I got a dream with your face in it
That scares me awake
I put too much on the table
Now I got too much at stake

And I might let you off easy
Yeah, I might lead you on
I might wait for you to look for me
And then I might be gone
There's where I come from and where I'm going
And I am lost in between
I might go up to that phone booth
And leave a veiled invitation on your machine

And you'll stop me, won't you
If you've heard this one before
The one where I surprise you
By showing up at your front door
Saying let's not ask what's next or how, or why?
I am leaving in the morning, so let's not be shy

I'll be shy

The door opens, the room winces
The housekeeper comes in without a warning
I squint at the muscular motel light
And say, "Hey, good morning"
As she jumps her keys jingle
And she leaves as quickly as she came in
And I roll over and taste the pillow with my grin

Well, the sheets are twisted and damp
But the heat is so great
And I swear I can feel the mattress
Sinking underneath your weight
Oh, sleep is like a fever
And I'm glad when it ends
And the road flows like a river
And it pulls me around every bend

And you'll stop me, won't you
If you've heard this one before
Or the one where I surprise you
By showing up at your front door
Saying let's not ask what's next or how, or why?
I am leaving in the morning, so let's not be shy

I'll be shy
Oh, shy

Well, the heat is so great
It plays tricks with the eye
It turns the road into water
And then from water to sky
And there's a crack in the concrete floor
And it starts at the sink
There's a bathroom in a gas station
And I've locked myself in it to think

And you'll stop me, won't you
If you've heard this one before
Or the one where I surprise you
By showing up at your front door
Saying let's not ask what's next or how, or why?
I am leaving in the morning so let's not be shy

And you'll stop me, won't you
If you've heard this one before
Or the one where I surprise you
By showing up at your front door
Saying let's not ask what's next or how, or why?
I am leaving in the morning so let's not be shy

I'll be shy
Shy
Shy
...

Play the MP3 online for free!
452b29be9488677e164d78f42f49a696

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Got No Shame - Lyrics - Brother Cane - Brother Cane

Title: Got No Shame
Album: Brother Cane
Artist: Brother Cane
Composer(s): Damon Johnson, M Frederiksen

Lyric:
Pools of pain surrounding me in shades of green
Rats and snakes they always try to get the best of me
But they won't, never know when the time is right to take the reins
Down the road they'll come to find out anyway but it's too late you know

We just like pretendin'
That they're everything they're not
I don't like it I, don't need it
I don't want it 'cause baby I'm through believin' it and I

Got no shame, well I got no one to blame
All the same, gonna taste the wine
'Cause it's right there in front of me

Walk the streets a carryin' in a, heavy load and
Hounds of love are comin' and so I take a left turn back down the right road
Sister sweet she told me 'bout it just can't seem to live without it
Black cat open my eyes forever baby don't you waste your time
I found shelter helter skelter back inside me, you won't find me

Got no shame, well I got no one to blame
Got no shame, all the stakes are high like no blue sky
It's all the same but you will never feel it

You know you just like pretendin'
That they're everything you're not
I don't like it, I don't need it
I won't take it at all

Got no shame, well I got no one to blame
Got no shame, all the stakes are high
Like no blue sky baby-honey

Got no shame, well I got no one to blame
All the same, gonna taste the wine
'Cause it's right there in front of me
You won't find me never get inside of me

Play the MP3 online for free!
2d5cf69d4c85070f07fdbdecc4a6e60d

Friday, July 30, 2010

Cities And Years - Lyrics - The Big Dirty - Every Time I Die

Title: Cities And Years
Album: The Big Dirty
Artist: Every Time I Die
Composer(s): Jordan Buckley, Keith Buckley, Michael Novak, Andy Williams

Lyric:
Play with the bow at the bridge
Tune your voices to minor chords
This is the lowest we've ever been
Until we bend for the offering

We're giving a knee jerk response to the awe

We come strapped to the bed
On display from the duty of tour
Oh they picked up the signals
We tapped to the prisoners

Our sea legs were lost on the march
From the graves to the cross
We brandish the plague of the middleman's heart
Sing the rats through the gate

I was still in one piece
When they tied me to the back of the car
But I met the road and I've slept
With thousands of miles since the day I was born

Our shoes are milled to the sole
And our souls are skin and bones
If I'm but a stranger still
Just move the severed pieces around

So course is the world
We're going back and forth
And back and forth
Grinding our bodies into dust

We'll never make it home alive
We'll never make it home alive
We'll never make it home alive
Play with the bow at the bridge

All the girls by the enemy line
All the girls by the enemy line

Woe, such remarkable woe
Hold sight of him
Hold sight of him
Point him out

I was still in one piece
When they tied me to the back of the car
But I met the road and I've slept
With thousands of miles since the day I was born

Our shoes are milled to the sole
And our souls are skin and bone
If I'm but a stranger still
Just move the severed pieces around

So course is the world
We're going back and forth
And back and forth
Grinding our bodies into dust

War come with us home
War come with us home
War come with us home
War come with us home

Play the MP3 online for free!
5e0cf94aaea4888ae6c4d7f2db8c807c

Friday, August 6, 2010

Fugue 1 / More Is More - Lyrics - Joe Jackson

Title: Fugue 1 / More Is More
Artist: Joe Jackson
Composer(s): David Ian Jackson

Lyric:
Oh, let it rain, let it rain
Let it rain, let it pour
We'll have one for the road
Put the bolt on the door

Let it rain cats and dogs
Let it rain rats and snakes
But just bring us more grog
And another red steak

Let it rain, let it hail
Let it rain frogs and toads
Butt just bring us some ale
We'll have ten for the road

Let it blow, let it roar
Let it rain bats from hell
Wipe their asses and pluck 'em
We'll eat them as well

Did you hear about Clyde who ain't ribs 'til he died?
At a sign that said, 'All You Can Eat For Ten Bob'
When the doctors were done pumping out his insides
He went back the next morning to finish the job

Oh, let the skies turn to black
Let it rain kangaroos
But just give us tobacco
And tucker and booze

So who cares about heaven
Or burning beneath
When we're all busy digging
Our graves with our teeth

Did you hear about Matt who fell into a vat?
Well, they say he was drowned but it took him a week
And they say that it wasn't as strange as all that
When you think that he kept getting out for a leak

Let it rain, let it flood
Let 'em load up the Ark
Bring us buckets of blood
While they sink in the dark

Give 'em two vegetarians
And two of the poor
And two of the tossers
Who say less is more

Play the MP3 online for free!
acd427839ec667b6119cd221fe602946

Monday, August 2, 2010

City Boys Blues (Demo) - Lyrics - Motley Crue

Title: City Boys Blues (Demo)
Artist: Motley Crue
Composer(s): Nikki Sixx, Vince Neil, Mick Mars

Lyric:
Fireflies and dogfights
Runnin' hot in the heat
Street noise, another bribe
Things too hard to believe go head out

My heart's in the country
My feet's in the city with you
All my friends are eatin' sushi
Talkin' bad about you know who, who, who

My tongue's talkin' riddles
But I just can't seem to find a clue
So I take a swig of whiskey
Jump into the saddle with you, you, you

And I just can't seem to break
The shackles of the city boy blues
Well, I got the city boy blues
Well, I got the city boy blues

I got the city boy blues
Hey, I got the city boy blues
And I just can't seem to break
The shackles of the city boy blues

Cats in the alley
Rats in my snake skin boots
All my neighbors think I'm crazy
And my girl thinks I'm losin' my cool, cool, cool

And I just can't seem to break
The shackles of the city boy blues
Well, I got the city boy blues
Well, I got the city boy blues

I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
And I just can't seem to break
The shackles of the city boy blues

Don't look to Jesus to change your seasons
It's the American dream
Souls of gypsies, road of stone
Can't seem to find no peace go head out

And I just can't seem to break
The shackles of the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the booze, I got the blues

Well, I got the city boy blues
And I just can't seem to break
The shackles of the city boy blues
And I just can't seem to break
The shackles of the city boy blues

And I just can't seem to break
The shackles of the city boy blues

I got the city boy blues
Got the blues, got the blues
Hey yeah, city boy blues
Hey yeah

Play the MP3 online for free!
7d3ef98fee8e61f44e6eaf630c80adbb

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

We Get Around - Lyrics - Freeway

Title: We Get Around
Artist: Freeway
Composer(s): Leslie Pridgen, Calvin Broadus, Justin Smith

Lyric:
Let's get this on, let's get this on

We can get this pimpin'
Roll the dice
We can get this mackin'

From P H I L L Y
All the way to L B C, that be me
The boy F R double the E play with mouths
I will dot your I's, blaze your T's

No, no, I'm not related to R
I don't play with kids, I check ID's
If a chick under the age under the wig
Then she don't get none of the kid makin' her bleed

I'm gone with the breeze, out with the wind
In Miami, tryin' to win two mamis out in the beach
They say I'm frontin' my Spanish, I think you prob'ly
A mulato, papi culo, I spotted you from the beach

She eat I like a melon
Tryin' to ride to my telly, chicks move when the playa speak
Them freaks tryin' to meet the Roc
An' those chicks wasn't shocked when I said

You can get this pimpin', baby, you can get this mackin'
All around the world we do it big, you know what's happenin'
Like the way you work it, baby, so sexy
It's all good, gimme *** on your knees

Can I hit that ***, baby? Yo, you know what's happenin'
Big F R double E, I keep it crackin'
All across the wizzorld, we doin' trizzars
With my *** Dizzogg

I've been all around the wizzorld, I met a lot of gizzurls
Shaniqua, Kanika, Pizzearl, Shizzirl
Look, I can go on an' on
'Cause my game is strong, word is bond

Leave me a zone, no, leave me alone
See, I'm up in the clizzub, bangin' the pizzubs
Tryin' to get some skizzirts 'cause you know how I dizzoes
I'm real this this crippin' 'cause it's all in my blizzood

A lot of suckas wanna get us but can't *** with us
'Cause we some real heavy hitters
'Nuff of that, cuff your ass, stuff your sack an' bounce
Roc-A-Fella's in the *** Dogghouse

So you know, blow for blow, toe for toe
Chauffeur dough, matter of fact we can go
An' I bet you, I beat you
'Cause I keep a bundle of 'em that'll greet you
See you, then freak you

You can get this pimpin', baby, you can get this mackin'
All around the world we do it big, you know what's happenin'
Like the way you work it, baby, so sexy
It's all good, gimme *** on your knees

Can I hit that ***, baby? Yeah, you know what's happenin'
Big Snoopy D O double G, you know I keep it crackin'
All up in your hizzoes, do it the G way
With my ***, Freeway

After the show, take them chickens to my room
Makin' the moves, smellin' the fumes, sparkin' the
She gotta roll after I'm done hittin' her off
Man, I smash with my kicks off, live on the road

I get around, Free stay round the coochie
I come around an' round, up all the groupies
Me an' Snoopy swerve in a Coupe DeVille
Pick up a couple chicks an' we get the dough

Watch, I show y'all chumps how to work the skills
Man, the heat go
Then I reload
Through your people's peepholes, then I gotta roll

From around, free stay round the hood strapped
Come around an' round up all the hood rats
In your town, P wish he could that
Roll up a couple words, tell 'em
Tell the hood that I get around

You can get this pimpin', baby, you can get this mackin'
All around the world we do it big, you know what's happenin'
Like the way you work it, baby, so sexy
It's all good, gimme *** on your knees

Can I hit that ***, baby? Yo, you know what's happenin'
Big F R double E, I keep it crackin'
All across the wizzorld, we doin' trizzars
With my *** Dizzogg

Can I hit that ***, baby? Yeah, you know what's happenin'
Big Snoopy D O double G, you know I keep it crackin'
All up in your hizzoes, do it the G way
With my ***, Freeway

Pimpin', mackin', stackin'
International, roll the dice

Play the MP3 online for free!
7283caa227246920634637c3f3254059

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Never Had It Made - Lyrics - Carnival Of Carnage - Insane Clown Posse

Title: Never Had It Made
Album: Carnival Of Carnage
Artist: Insane Clown Posse
Composer(s): Joseph Bruce

Lyric:
First I was born young and healthy
I told my mother one day I'd be wealthy
Can't forget my first day at school
Got stabbed in the head with a pencil but it's cool
Get my education, a job and a family, a good reputation

And what about grade two?
Got shot in the neck and the bullet went straight through
But I'm packing a textbook
Don't fuck with me 'cuz I'm going to grade three

Thank God it's lunch in a minute
Bit into my hot dog with a razor blade in it
And it cut my tongue off
But I know how to multiply so what's up, boss

Finally had to step out
I dropped out of school when they ripped my neck out
Who knows where the road led?
Seen a man with a briefcase and no head

So I'm like fuck that
Show me a quarter and an ounce of crack
And I'm straighter than a fucking light post
I sold a lot of crack but I bought the most

Now I'm a base head down on my luck
Roaming the streets and got hit by a Mack Truck
And thrown about a block
But I'm thinking nothing but gimme a rock

Holding my sign I'll work for crack
With my old-ass E.T. shirt on my back
And I'm sleeping in the gutter
Right next to Jam Town's mother

I'm eating dead rats in the street
I keep on checking for my own heart beat
Now I'm weighing at a buck-o-five
Twitchy little neck and I'm barely alive

Got my first taste of life in hell
I ate a dead, shh, but don't tell
Excuse me, sir, can you spare some change?
I'll cut your face off and eat your brains

You know all about me
You act like you ain't seen penitentiary
Spitting and cussing and you know I'll piss
With these iron braces on my fucking wrists

And I'm heading for the slammer
Serial killer, all on the camera
First day, they broke my back
Next day, they broke my neck

Third day, they broke my leg
Fourth day, they broke my head
Swallowing kept on trucking
But there'll be no fucking

That's strictly for the soft
Seen a freak in a week and my nuts fell off
So I'm finna escape
How much shit can one club no take?

Stop, fool, stop or I'll fire
Shot me off and I fell in the razor wire
I'm all tangled up, cut, cut, cut, slit, slit, cut, cut
You don't love me, I really don't care

Tie my ass up in the electric chair
I got no family, I got no friends
I pray to God that my life ends
They thought that they had killed me

They took me to the morgue
I'm just a little stiff that's all, like a board
I lay there in my coffin, just chill and wait and chill
But then I jump out knife swinging all about

And motherfucking mother, mother, mother, motherfucking kill
I used to wonder what life's about
Until it chewed me up and spit me out
Your ghetto created a psycho nut
Not just psycho, psycho nut

Now I'm living in the walls of your house
And I'll die there and lay and rot like a dead mouse
I'm packing a sickle I'm on your roof and I'm playing the fiddle
You want me in a straight jacket

'Cuz when I see a throat, I'm a hack it
Where I'm at? What's my name?
Somehow, somewhere, I got hit by a train
And it ripped my legs off, uh, nothing but a minor coft

You can't get me I swing from a tree
Shouting and cussing and shooting at me
Everybody's end make two cents
A branch broke and I fell on a picket fence

I'm stuck and they're coming to get me
Rip myself off and I took my lungs with me
I'm stuffing them back in
Fuck! They won't go back in

Now my life's gettin' dense
'Cuz my heart's still beating
On a wooden fence
They shoot me up and down

Thinking, thinking, thinking clown
Wicked, wicked, wicked clown
You wanna know all about a wicked clown
I never had it made

Play the MP3 online for free!
a14f68f532065f7790d82a5ccd4594a0

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Real Nigga Quotes - Lyrics - One Day It'll All Make Sense - Common

Title: Real Nigga Quotes
Album: One Day It'll All Make Sense
Artist: Common
Composer(s): Douglas Mc Kinley Thomas, Lonnie Rashid Lynn

Lyric:
One two, one two, one two
Yo, I be the Big Illinois, here to build and destroy
I come on your deck, on your set
On your strip, through your borough
Rippin' any muthafucka that steps towards me
Yeah, I got power like floors be, yo, check it out y'all

Real nigga quotes I tote, got some shit on the free
But this some shit that I wrote, legendary like The Goat
Who got game? Giving a quarter rest while I make these quarter notes
My album, niggaz was expectin', now my water broke
Before it, I was sorta broke
Get the paper for the funnies, sports and the horoscope

On a curry goat, like flu stokes order coke
You sharp with your rings and chain but you short a rope
At the end of the road trip still, I'ma hold shit down like syndrome
Rappers are like Fox Brown tryin' to get home
Rarely get your touchdown, I'm in the end zone
You can't honor what I'm on, then bitch nigga, get gone

From the wind storm, I've been told the street folklore
Body language spoke raw, don't talk to broads that are spoke for
That provokes war, stand out like cold sores
You claim that you hard but you whole core
George Bush and CIA, you movin' old or
I Wright like Richard for publishing while you sold yours

Com got rhymes, Dug make beats
Style complete, plus unique, the shit be sweet
(On the real)

You know the shit be real
You know the shit be real
You know the shit be real
You know the shit be real
You know the shit be real
(Down on the real to real)

Chicka-chicka-M-chicka-C-chicka-M and my
People call me Com and collective with prospective
I draw crowds, go off like car alarm sounds
Bomb like 'Nam sounds, tell yo bitch to calm down
Unless you want to get me skull, askin' me to take my hat off
On ill raps, I spit as if I had a bad cough

This Craig nigga stole a style and ain't take the tag off
Playin' yourself, you can't come with it, so you jack off
More heart than an artery, jones in my bones
To see thugs in harmony, it's gonna be some drama
If you try to sit Com down, this ain't comedy
Shit is real like a station property, crew is formin' colonies
Commonly, I hear these rats thinkin' they mahogany

On every rap hook, soundin' like a dog to me
In a reservoir, I flow and go
On and on like Erykah or etcetera
Designated not to make hits but hit home
Out of proportion, hit makers get blown
(On the real)

Com got rhymes, Dug make beats
Style complete, plus unique, the shit be sweet
(On the real)

You know the shit be real
You know the shit be real
You know the shit be real
You know the shit be real
You know the shit be real
(Down on the real to real)

R and B studs kill me with they hardcore ballads
Love songs is violent, them niggaz whole style is silent
I hate to Staple the singers together, but in my head
It's been ringin' forever and a day if you grew up on Marvin Gaye

Where all you singers booty this and freak me, baby, it gets me
MC's be insecure, like them little hoe niggaz Immature
Wearin' bobs, if I got a show in your town, I'm there with mob
Bukein niggaz and pullin' broads is the apparent job
(On the real)

Com got rhymes, Dug make beats
Style complete, plus unique, the shit be sweet
(On the real)

You know the shit be real
You know the shit be real
You know the shit be real
You know the shit be real
You know the shit be real
(Down on the real to real)

Com got rhymes, Dug make beats
Style complete, plus unique, the shit be sweet
(On the real)

You know the shit be real
You know the shit be real
You know the shit be real
You know the shit be real
You know the shit be real
(Down on the real to real)

Don't front

Play the MP3 online for free!
f3b88b0399539d39645d211b77fceda9

Cherchez La Femme - Lyrics - Gloria Estefan

Title: Cherchez La Femme
Artist: Gloria Estefan
Composer(s): August Darnell, Stony Jr. Browder

Lyric:
Tommy Mottola lives on the road
He lost his lady two months ago
Maybe he'll find her, maybe he won't
Oh, oh, never, no

He sleeps in the back of his grey Cadillac, oh my honey
Blowing his mind on cheap grass and wine
Oh, ain't it crazy baby, hey
Guess you could say hey, hey

This man has learned his lesson, oh hey
Now he's alone, he's got no woman and no home
For misery, oh, oh
Cherchez la femme

Miggie, Miggie Bonija's very upset
She's sick and tired of living in debt
Tired of roaches, tired of rats, I know she is ooh
So her noble man says

"Baby I understand, oh my honey"
Now he's working two jobs at Eighth Avenue bars
Oh, ain't crazy, baby now she complains
That her man is never present, no

She goes next door, I know that
She's just playing the whore
Hey for misery
(My friend)
Cheechez la femme

They tell you a lie with a Colgate smile, hey baby
Love you one second and hate the next one
Oh, ain't it crazy, yeah
All I can say , ay, hey, oh one thing I am certain, oh, oh
They're all the same, all the sluts and the saints for misery
(My friend)
Cherchez la femme

Play the MP3 online for free!
08d7876c74db4808d5364000a608a407

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Cherchez Laghost - Lyrics - Ghostface Killah

Title: Cherchez Laghost
Artist: Ghostface Killah
Composer(s): August Darnell, S Jr Browder, L Parker

Lyric:
Tommy Mattola, lives on the road
He lost his lady, two months ago
Maybe he'll find her, maybe he won't
Oh wonder that love

Brothers try to pass me, but none could match me
No girl can freak me, I'm just too nasty
Lost on the dance floors, I'll attack you all
Snuck through the back door, guess who they saw?
Goldie and Ghost, Black African rose
Star-studded low lenses, plus the mural was dope
Airbrush W B's, stop
(Shake your body, body)
And cop a couple of these
(She's a hottie, hottie)

Scottfree and Chauncey, very upset
They're sick and tired of living in debt
Tired of roaches and tired of rats
I know they are over

One in the head, I'm fed, this is how we're doin'
Put a Ruff Ryder on my dick, bust right through them
Come out your shirt, insert the party rhyme
Fine Dr. Bizerk, Bacardi lime
We passin' it, takes the shake your Calvin Klein
Before the floor gets moist, taste and follow mine
Swallow nine, model dimes from Bahamas
Slim Doo-Doo makers stuffed inside pajamas

They'll take all your rhymes with a Colgate smile, hey baby
They'll love you one second, then hate you the next
Oh ain't it crazy baby, yeah
Tony's his name, the undefeated champion, yeah
(Blow 'em down God)

Now he's alone, he's just the king of his throne
(Yeah, aha)
Always will be my friend, Ghostface Killah
(Truly yours, peace boo)

Ghostface, Ghostface Killah
Ghostface, Ghostface Killah
Ghostface, Ghostface Killah
...

Play the MP3 online for free!
c8d2ccded80fcdb1d39b738be20669cb

Grid Iron Rap - Lyrics - Tical 2000 Judgementday - Method Man

Title: Grid Iron Rap
Album: Tical 2000 Judgementday
Artist: Method Man
Composer(s): Derrick Harris, Patrick Charles, Clifford Smith

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

Lyric:
I silver surf the city circuits forever lurkin' on the street surface
I spit blood for blood verses
Grands man divided, we still stand, conquer land
One man'll body slam Def Jam

Focus your headcam zoom in, with radio tune in
I know you're listenin', so I keep showin' and provin'
Play the sideline, waitin' for the right time to take mine
Street crime, nickel and dime rhyme

Fuck a peace talk let the gun spark, on the streets of New York
I Shaolin Strut through the city asphault
(Fed up)
Hold your head up, I'm circlin' the block, keep your eyes up
Wise up, before you get sized up
(Tied up)

Play no games, speakin' on my name
You catch a clipful from close range
Diggin' in your pocket
Take the loose change

Punch the data in your mainframe, you want it all
I want the same thang, strive to maintain, live out my name
Hard to obtain, hard to explain, ain't nuttin' changed
Leave the same way I came, bringin' motherfuckin' pain

Killa Hill Projects, high tech street intellect
Let's connect, blow your headset, fuck a mic check
Ring around the underground, pocket full of sound
Ashes to ashes, y'all niggaz goin' down

Yo, eat shit and die slow, battle ground no survival
You goin, down, y'all niggaz fuck around
Shittin' where you sleepin', so my rhyme proposal
Came indecent, beef from the butcher sink your teeth in

Fuck what you believe in, you real fake
Fishin' in the same lake
Eatin' off the same cake
You blowface

Who got that ready cooked, synthetic look, actin' crook
Betty shook worm, tryin' to shake the hook
As the world turn nigga burn
Once again the supersperm

Rub it in your skin, like it's Lubriderm
Time took to write this
The war will be fought by the righteous
Who stand criticized, by his un-A alikeness

Knowledge is the jewel, and it's priceless
Real like them Rahway Lifers
Nuttin' but time on my hands
Observe the black sands in the hourglass

Fallin' fast in this savage land
Haulin' ass, days of thunder
It's road rad, your days are numbered
What RZA put together, let no man tear asunder
(Motherfucker)

This is P L O, killa hill flow, but you don't hear me though
Live in stereo, pump it loud until your speaker blow
Ghettio slang pro, sling rap to cashflow
Keep it live from the intro until the outro

Killa Hill Projects, high tech street intellect
Let's connect, blow your headset, fuck a mic check
Ring around the underground, pocket full of sound
Ashes to ashes, y'all niggaz goin' down

I'm on a suicide run, y'all niggaz know the outcome
Razor sharp tongue leave scars in your eardrum
Forty five bar seminar ghetto rap star
Slide like water rats through the Staten Resevoir

Swingin' swords cut your mic cords, snatch your rap awards
Commercial cats, fuckin' up the game, that's why I crash boards
Drape floors while you Jordan, keep on tryin' yours
Hardcore somethin' that my street niggaz is dyin' for

Snap your neck and the dopefiend, Gobol 13
Professionals we know things, say no more
Check my dogs at the resevoir
Gourmet special of the day is nigga Souflee

Pusher gotta pay and the games people play
John Jay back around the way Fish Filet
Mr. DJ, turn it up a notch hit the replay
For dirt bomb niggaz in the P J

To cling on, bring on the good times
To key on hook rhymes, that's beyond your thinkin'
For eons I been here, to shine on the black mind
Tell you like the last time, year of the grimy nigga
Ragtime, bad sign, flatline

Play the MP3 online for free!
1cea9fbc39113a8879090fe52b7f117c

Monday, August 16, 2010

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

Play the MP3 online for free!
5667e9eda2836f895252485359fae9d5

Friday, August 13, 2010

I'M So Fly - Lyrics - The Hunger for More - Lloyd Banks

Title: I'M So Fly
Album: The Hunger for More
Artist: Lloyd Banks
Composer(s): Chris Lloyd, Tim Mosley, Nathaniel Hills

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

Lyric:
Yee, ayo 50
They only do it like us nigga, yee

I'm so fly, I got money so that's a good enough reason
To buy the things I buy
I'm so high, I'm on point and I can tell that you jealous
By the look in your eye
When I ride by, I don't care, G-Units goin' straight
To the top this year
Nigga, I'm so fly and I got money so that's a good enough reason
To buy the things I buy

Banks is fresh out the gutta to smooth to stutta
His cig will melt a riva like 2 scoups of butta
Before I leave the crib I tell my mother I love her
Grab the burna 'cuz she ain't concerned 'cuz he's a earna
My bitch lays it out real nice for me to murda
Fight, wake up n' fuck like Ike 'n' Tina Turner
It's a privilege to ride with a celeb
'Cuz them girls over three don't got a problem given head

Paranoia is on ya that's why your mama's in your bed
Fuck a rare chinchilla and bossin' mama for ya head
Where the block I'm from niggas be damn near 40 and still tuckin'
And niggas baby mama is pregnant and still fuckin'
It's either 'cuz their boyfriend is a scrub like brillow
Or 'cuz banks is cooler than the other side of the pillow
The chronic is blown for my niggas that got locked up and deported
And now they gotta go back home

I'm so fly, I got money so that's a good enough reason
To buy the things I buy
I'm so high, I'm on point and I can tell that you jealous
By the look in your eye
When I ride by and I don't care, G-Units goin' straight
To the top this year
Nigga, I'm so fly and I got money so that's a good enough reason
To buy the things I buy

Don't confuse me with these suckas 'cuz when I spit
You hear more ouus, then a skip to my lil' move at the rucka
Thank God for given Banks the gift, you think that bandana
Makes you look gangsta but all I see is a handkerchief
Nigga there's no one out the click that freeze us
Believe that 'cuz I ain't scared of shit but Jesus
Look dawg I don't roam with the poodles
Difference is I'm eating in Rome and you eatin' Roman noodles

Ya boys corrupt kid, Banks will send a bitch to the store
Just for a piece of cheesecake like puff did
You jokes cant afford these homes
Look around I got 40 clones now look down that's 40 stones
And that's only in the necklace
I'm bony and I'm reckless there's Tony in a Lexus
I'm fresh out the gutta scrap whatcha man thought
I'm in the hood with more straps than a Jan sport

I'm so fly, I got money so that's a good enough reason
To buy the things I buy
I'm so high, I'm on point and I can tell that you jealous
By the look in your eye
When I ride by, I don't care, G-units goin' straight
To the top this year
Nigga, I'm so fly and I got money so that's a good enough reason
To buy the things I buy

When I travel I know I'm gonna get stuck
'Cuz they harass us in the airport like I'm the ones that's blowin' shit up
I got the patience of a high school teacher
And a bright future, why the fuck would I have a bomb on my sneaker
Will the goody girls back of us, my heart's colder than Jack Frost is
We pack shows and attract bosses
Black clothes and my black forces
A black rose for a rats coffin, blowin' O's in that black coffin

Blowin' the road and I'm back flossin'
No one knows how much that's costin'
Fuck ass only the green moves me
I got a clean Uzi a pair of gloves and a mask from the scream movie
So if your plottin' on poppin' off, sceem smoothly
Or get a little red spatter on ya cream coogy
My name ring each state
So you ain't gotta go all the way to L.A. to get your MC eight

I'm so fly, I got money so that's a good enough reason
To buy the things I buy
I'm so high, I'm on point and I can tell that you jealous
By the look in your eye
When I ride by, I don't care, G-Units goin' straight
To the top this year
Nigga, I'm so fly, I got money so that's a good enough reason
To buy the things I buy

Play the MP3 online for free!
fc55475024c796b555c9951639e07e81

Monday, August 23, 2010

City Boy Blues - Lyrics - Motley Crue

Title: City Boy Blues
Artist: Motley Crue
Composer(s): Nikki Sixx, Vince Neil, Mick Mars

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

Lyric:
Fireflies and dogfights
Runnin' hot in the heat
Street noise, another bribe
Things too hard to believe go head out

My heart's in the country
My feet's in the city with you
All my friends are eatin' sushi
Talkin' bad about you know who, who, who

My tongue's talkin' riddles
But I just can't seem to find a clue
So I take a swig of whiskey
Jump into the saddle with you, you, you

And I just can't seem to break
The shackles of the city boy blues
Well, I got the city boy blues
Well, I got the city boy blues

I got the city boy blues
Hey, I got the city boy blues
And I just can't seem to break
The shackles of the city boy blues

Cats in the alley
Rats in my snake skin boots
All my neighbors think I'm crazy
And my girl thinks I'm losin' my cool, cool, cool

And I just can't seem to break
The shackles of the city boy blues
Well, I got the city boy blues
Well, I got the city boy blues

I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
And I just can't seem to break
The shackles of the city boy blues

Don't look to Jesus to change your seasons
It's the American dream
Souls of gypsies, road of stone
Can't seem to find no peace go head out

And I just can't seem to break
The shackles of the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the booze, I got the blues

Well, I got the city boy blues
And I just can't seem to break
The shackles of the city boy blues
And I just can't seem to break
The shackles of the city boy blues

And I just can't seem to break
The shackles of the city boy blues

I got the city boy blues
Got the blues, got the blues
Hey yeah, city boy blues
Hey yeah

Play the MP3 online for free!
627a8d2ed9cc99aa57bddf44c704c5d7

Friday, July 30, 2010

Hustler Hall Of Fame - Lyrics - Mickey Avalon - Mickey Avalon

Title: Hustler Hall Of Fame
Album: Mickey Avalon
Artist: Mickey Avalon
Composer(s): Yeshe Perl, Aaron Harris

Lyric:
The road to the top through cross guards and hard knocks
Copper penny times and endless city blocks
Thieves straight as they never been crooked rent-a-cops
Shooting craps in the back of vacant city lots

Free-range circus acts and worthless facts
Dancing in my solar soggy bowl of dick and smack
Fist-fucking fagots at the White on gym mats
Rats run the wire while I'm looking for a match

I go back and forth just like a cameo song
Honeys wanna love me but the line is too long
I make 'em take a number, wake 'em from their slumber
What you know about Mickey? He's a bad motherfucker

Truckers get my digits off the stalls of rest stops
I'm sick on the microphone like smallpox
Wild-eyed babies go crazy when I rock
Blind old ladies into diabetic shock

'Cause it's all the same when they call my name
Mickey Avalon, hustler hall of fame
There ain't no ball and chain to hold me down
I got a golden smile and a platinum frown

'Cause it's all the same when they call my name
Mickey Avalon, hustler hall of fame
There ain't no ball and chain to hold me down
I got a golden smile and a platinum frown

I flow like an acrobat, go tell your manager
That Mickey Avalon ain't no motherfuckin' amateur
I fly flicks with my dick at your camera
I rip the stick out my girl's Porsche Carrera

I brought your whole formula, just warmin' up
Storm the front line and then I find a spot for lunch
Toxic-proof punch when the loot comes
Rocket boosters with my boots on

Underneath the tundra reach out for the Thundercats
Holds no better than this brother act
I ripped the rubber mats out your lover's pad
And kicked your mother's ass right in front of your dad

Last night, a brass pipe and a flashlight
Smashed my crown and left me down with a black eye
The bad guy, walking over landmines
Who can't die but still cried?

'Cause it's all the same when they call my name
Mickey Avalon, hustler hall of fame
There ain't no ball and chain to hold me down
I got a golden smile and a platinum frown

'Cause it's all the same when they call my name
Mickey Avalon, hustler hall of fame
There ain't no ball and chain to hold me down
I got a golden smile and a platinum frown

Leave your gods and your politics back at home
'Cause I just wanna drink and be left alone
I gotta girl who likes to talk my ear off, see
So when I'm at the bar stay away from me

Don't ask for a smoke or to make some change
I don't care about your kid or your menstrual pains
You can call me rude but I like my solitude
And we don't need to chat while we're playing pool

So stay cool, mister, I wasn't lookin' at your sister
That snuggle toothed sea hag, lips all blistered
Now rack the balls while I'm in the stall
Pissin' out vodka and walkin' up the walls

I turn off the ringer when my lady calls
Don't point your finger unless you want a brawl
I chalk up my cue and sink the eight ball
Then reach into my pocket and light a Pall Mall

'Cause it's all the same when they call my name
Mickey Avalon, hustler hall of fame
There ain't no ball and chain to hold me down
I got a golden smile and a platinum frown

'Cause it's all the same when they call my name
Mickey Avalon, hustler hall of fame
There ain't no ball and chain to hold me down
I got a golden smile and a platinum frown

Play the MP3 online for free!
e11bad1f033253fb9881a5fb225df399