Rolling Through The Hood - Lyrics - Kelis

Title: Rolling Through The Hood
Artist: Kelis
Composer(s): Chad Hugo, Pharrell Williams

Lyric:
Yesterday, I rolled through the hood
And I seen somethin' and it hurt me
Yesterday, I rolled through the hood
And I seen somethin' and it hurt me
You were talking to that woman
Like you could show her somethin'
And I didn't know what to do
Pulled out your pen and paper
And I know it your number you gave her
I never thought this bad dream would come true, yea

Baby I want you to know
The suburbs to the ghetto
Joy is joy and pain is pain, pain
One day sooner than you know
We'll be livin' tomorrow
And we'll be laughin' about today, today

Yesterday, I rolled through the hood
And I seen somethin' and it hurt me
Yesterday, I rolled through the hood
And I seen somethin' and it hurt me
You were talking to your boys
And though y'all didn't make noise
You tapped him and you pointed at this woman
Then she turned around, as if she'd been found
And all I know my heart started jumpin', hey

Baby I want you to know
The suburbs to the ghetto
Joy is joy and pain is pain, pain
One day sooner than you'll know
We'll be livin' tomorrow
And we'll be laughin' about today, today

Maybe tomorrow, maybe tomorrow
Maybe tomorrow, maybe tomorrow
Maybe tomorrow, maybe tomorrow
Maybe tomorrow, maybe tomorrow

Beautiful baby don't you know you mean the world to me
The moon would lose the sky if you don't stay
Did I ever tell you that you were my sunshine?
So basically if you leave there is no day, hey hey

Yesterday, I rolled through the hood
And I seen somethin' and it hurt me
Yesterday, I rolled through the hood
And I seen somethin' and it hurt me
Instead of scorin' high in college
Just scorin' high in garbage

And not rememberin' who we are
And not to mention forgettin' who God is
Don't know that you're special
And God will never forget you
The world is yours, watch what you do with it, yea

Baby I want you to know
The suburbs to the ghetto
Joy is joy and pain is pain, pain
One day sooner than you know
We'll be livin' tomorrow
And we'll be laughin' about today, today

Maybe tomorrow, maybe tomorrow
Maybe tomorrow, maybe tomorrow
Maybe tomorrow, maybe tomorrow
Maybe tomorrow, maybe tomorrow

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71823d0d6df0e54e5840b63c938f5a6c

Good, Good - Lyrics - Cool Breeze

Title: Good, Good
Artist: Cool Breeze
Composer(s): Patrick Brown, Frederick Bell, Raymond Murray, Rico Wade

Lyric:
Hey, I remember when I came, came
I didn't have to ask nobody in the streets
To scream my name, name
'Cause we got a lock on this whole city
And got a key to the Dirty South
And the South coast, now play with me

So bring your semi thirty, art thirty
If you put your hands on a Calhoun player
It's gon' get dirty, dirty
And everybody trying to claim boss
But that's just talk
You don't really wanna turn these mics off

They trying to slick us with our own slang
Using our words like back and forth
Just calling us up out our name
See and for that they gonna pay, pay
Everything they did in one week, I'ma do in one day

You can say that it's about to start
Don't call us rappers
'Cause nowadays a rapper ain't considered smart
So I just stay away from those haters
And anybody in my clique who roll with me, you a creator

So it's like, who do you believe in?
Just like the hustler came back once
The clock is gon' strike twelve again
And I'm most requested in my old hood
From Martel to Springdale and all through Club Candlewood

You can ask Cool Cane or Dre-High
Either Po-boy, Dirty Red, or they gon' cut? I'm fire, fire
And they consider me that raw, raw
And your partners where you represent
They say you got that flaw, flaw

And Cool Breeze, he got that hard, hard
And ain't nobody taking nothing
And don't want nothing to start, start
So when I'm riding through the hood, hood
They respect me when they see me
'Cause they know I got that good, good

That's right, we got that good, good
From every street to every borough
And back to every hood, hood
That's right, we got that good, good
From every street to every borough
And back to every hood, hood

That's right, we got that good, good
From every street to every borough
And back to every hood, hood
That's right, we got that good, good
From every street to every borough
And back to every hood, hood

And can't nobody touch my team, team
Just like EJ from Southwest ATL
My partner got that green, green
And we gon' come through kicking the most game
Taking fo' sho' routes and pointing out the lane, lanes

So when you come and you ride through
It won't be no mystery, who everybody listening to
That's right 'cause all we do is stack, stack
And Organize this Noize and everybody know that

Plus we testing out this new sound
Everybody done put down
Now we breaking up some new ground
'Cause we serve 'em up that real, real
And be forever Dirty South in this place we live, live

That's what make the brothers hawk, hawk
Trying to step up and showcase
All that is is talk, talk
See Cool Breeze, he ain't your fool, fool
So don't ask me no questions
Like what makes me so cool, cool

They'd rather see me in the Chain Gang
Than rolling a V-12, riding on them thang, thangs
I get respect out to Alabama
To the West Coast to the East
Then right back to Atlanta

And that's how we keep it tight, tight
I come through busting the door first
Then we ship it out the same night
So when I'm riding through the hood, hood
They respect me when they see me
'Cause they know I got that good, good

That's right, we got that good, good
From every street to every borough
And back to every hood, hood
That's right, we got that good, good
From every street to every borough
And back to every hood, hood

That's right, we got that good, good
From every street to every borough
And back to every hood, hood
That's right, we got that good, good
From every street to every borough
And back to every hood, hood

That's right, we got that good, good
From every street to every borough
And back to every hood, hood
That's right, we got that good, good
From every street to every borough
And back to every hood, hood

That's right, we got that good, good
From every street to every borough
And back to every hood, hood
That's right, we got that good, good
From every street to every borough
And back to every hood, hood

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6117dccf872e8cac32175224d3c8735f

Growin' Up In The Hood - Lyrics - Compton'S Most Wanted

Title: Growin' Up In The Hood
Artist: Compton'S Most Wanted
Composer(s): Terry Keith Allen, Andre P Manuel, Joe Simon, Aaron Bernard Tyler

Lyric:
Wake your punk ass up
The M.C Eiht's back in the motherfuckin' house
Kickin' the straight gangster shit, for the 9,1
You know what I'm sayin', gia

Growing up in the hood, yea boy
1984, was the year my peers didn't know, what was in store
A little hard head kid came abade
Time to pay my dues, learn the tricks of the trade

And at home it's the same ass story
Mom's treatin' me like she don't even know me
But my younger brother's got much clout
I can't take this shit, so, I bones the hell out

And roll with the pack of wicked motherfuckers
No shorts are taken, we're down black brothers
A little nigga with no problems at all
Fucked up and killed my first 8-ball

Quick up the stairs, so, little sucker stop lookin'
Stagger to the house, so, I can collect my whoopin'
But watch out 'cause a little nigga's up to no good
Growin' up in the hood

Life ain't nothin but bitches and money
'Cause in the city you live and let die
Nutting but bitches and money

I got hard times and will I escape, sometimes I wonder
But, it just seems that the hood, that took me under
Police sweat my tip and keep harassin'
Trying to lock me up 'cause I keep on blastin'

Community tryin' to shut me out
But the money keeps flowin' and I got much clout
With the cluckers, the brother back street punk suckers
Try to break me out fool, you be a short motherfucker

Always strappin', eager to peal a cap
I set up a trap, put your foot to a nap
'Cause I grew up fast on the wrong side of the law
So watch me take two to your jaw

Don't enter my hood, homeboy
Not a Robocop, a robogansta, ready to destroy
I take chances 'cause life to be ain't no good
Growin' up in the hood

Life ain't nothin' but bitches and money
Where I'm at, if you're soft, you're lost
Nothin' but bitches and money

1987, I'm back on the scene, out of jail, I'm legit
And I'm fuckin' up shit
I'm ready to peal a sucker's cap
And I heard that my hood was makin' snaps

As I precede to make my riches
Just like the neighborhood kingpin, pimp, and all these bitches
Task force tryin' to roll deep
But, I'm playin' these punk fools cheap

Niggas rolled by and try to blast, it didn't work
I seen the bullets flying and fool, I hit the dirt
Bullets fly through the window
Hits my brother, down goes my mother

As I'm rolling, I'm hitting my switches
Looking for the punk ass, sons of bitches
I found them, before I kill 'em, I said you fucked up good
Gotta handle that, growin' up in the hood

Life ain't nuttin but bitches and money
'Cause in the city you live and let die
Nothin' but bitches and money, yeah

A brother's on the run, I've got a hand in my stash box
Wanted 'cause I'm serving them the potent fat rocks
And my face is like a household name
Everybody warns their kids about the dope game

But I'm still makin' my profit
And the one time just can't stop it
So, I keep hidin' my face
No time to waste, they got me on the chase

Now, the neighborhood's on my line
'Cause some punk ass fool had drop the dime
5, O at my door, at 8 o'clock
Rush to the toilet, so, I could flush the rock

Out the backdoor, freeze, I heard a shout
Am I sure, yo, I guess I got no clout
But it's murder one, I'm the victim, damn
That ain't good, growin' up in the hood

Where I'm at, if you're soft, you're lost
Compton is the city that I claim
City that I fucked, take no shit from it, sure
Compton is the city that I claim

Where I'm at, if you're soft, you're lost
Compton is the city that I claim
City that I fucked, take no shit from it, sure
Compton is the city that I claim
City that I fucked, take no shit from it, sure

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496afc622036689be63e5c51186fd0da

Love Me [Dvd] [Live] - Lyrics - The New Breed - 50 Cent

Title: Love Me [Dvd] [Live]
Album: The New Breed
Artist: 50 Cent
Composer(s): Curtis Jackson, Marshall Mathers, Steve King, Obie Trice, Luis Edgardo Resto

Lyric:
You don't see me in the hood
It's 'cause I'm doing this man

Niggas, I'm still grinding, I still hearing those sirens
I'm still getting chased by those lights
Only the light's lime and my mic's on
And my time is none because I'm writing more

An' I ain't here to meet a soul in this business
I'm here to eat, speak until these hoe's feel this
And I can't let y'all derail me, man
I got Young Kobe homey, you gotta let go off Obie

'Cause Obie be back, we got them craps going on
And that yak going on, soon as a nigga touch down, back from town
It's forever, put that on the cheddar, man
But in the meantime, it's Jimmy Iovine time

Chase cheese, rhyme 'til my voice give out
This is it my niggas, this what we boast about
Now I'm here, so shut your motherfucking mouth
And show me love, bitch

I just wanna love you for the rest of my life
I wanna hold you in the morn, hold you through the night
I just wanna love you for the rest of my life
I wanna hold you in the morn, hold you through the night

There's a certain mystique when I speak that you notice
That's sort of unique 'cause you know it's me
My poetry's deep and I'm stillmatic, the way I flow to this beat
You can't sit still, it's like trying to smoke crack and go to sleep

I'm strapped, it's known any minute I could snap
I'm the equivalent of what would happen if Bush rapped
I bully these rappers so bad lyrically
It ain't even funny, I ain't even hungry, it ain't even money

You can't pay me enough for you to play me
It's cockamamie you just ain't zany enough to rock with Shady
My noodle is cock-a-doodle, my clock's coo-coo
I got screws loose, yea the whole kitten caboodle, I'm just brutal

It's no rumor, I'm numero uno, assume it
There's no humor in it, no more you know
I'm rolling with a swollen bowling ball in my bag
You need a fag to come and tear a new hole in my ass
You better love me, bitch

I just wanna love you for the rest of my life
I wanna hold you in the morn, hold you through the night
I just wanna love you for the rest of my life
I wanna hold you in the morn, hold you through the night

My buzz is crazy in the hood, they holla my name
If it ain't about the flow, it's 'bout the stones and the chain
If I was you, I'd love me too, I roll like a boss
Nine Eleven Porsche same color as cranberry sauce

I ain't gon' front, I thought R. Kelly was the shit
Let me find out he fucking 'round with Bow Wow bitch
Niggas eating popcorn right, rewinding the tape
Now shorty mama in the precinct, hollering rape

I'm convinced, man, something really wrong with these hoe's
I thought Lil' Kim was hot 'til she start fucking with her nose
I used to listen to Lauryn Hill and tap my feet
Then the bitch put out a CD, it didn't have no beats

That boy D'Angelo, he determined not to fail
That nigga went butt-ass, for his record to sell
My back shots'll help Ashanti hit them high notes
And Big Ben taught Charli B'More to deep throat

I just wanna love you for the rest of my life
I wanna hold you in the morn, hold you through the night
I just wanna love you for the rest of my life
I wanna hold you in the morn, hold you through the night

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44887f4460d6d7fd1bc97f2427b02490

Look At The Grillz - Lyrics - Living Legends - Eightball &Amp; Mjg

Title: Look At The Grillz
Album: Living Legends
Artist: Eightball &Amp; Mjg
Composer(s): Lamarquis Jefferson, Jonathan Smith, Craig Love

Lyric:
Look at the grill, look at the grill
Look at the grill, look at the grill
Look at the grill

This for my niggaz with the bank roles
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)
This for my niggaz with the pretty cars
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)

This for my niggaz who got all the hoes
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)
This for my niggaz who don't give a fuck
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)

This for my niggaz with the bank roles
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)
This for my niggaz with the pretty cars
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)

This for my niggaz who got all the hoes
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)
This for my niggaz who don't give a fuck
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)
(Hey, Grand hustle Bad Boy south lets ride nigga)

Chevy super clean, two or three screens
Watch a nigga be to the left I lean
50 karats in the crown, niggaz no more scream
Just to let you sucker niggaz know I'm the king

This green I smoke we call it drow
It's dead-liest from Memphis Tenn
You see my folk we ain't no joke
Don't turn this into a murder scene

I'm paranoid, tone misquoted
Should not since my early teens
But I'm drop that note, grab me under sixteen
You can bring all the niggaz you want to bring

Hey, I thought you were runnin' things
All you did was run the screens
Must be out his mind thinkin' the steel won't touch him
See it on the bush let it burn like Usher

Click, click, bang you can end the discussion
Ain't shit sweet cause I seen you unpleasant
I steal would spray broad day ain't nothin'
The lilac one AK doing somethin'

I'm immuned to the drama
Act a fool if you wanna
Lean in my pocket, 40 calb by the stomach
He acting' like he want it, I'm show a nigga somethin'
Somebody phinna to have put [incomprehensible]

I don't tolerate suckas who be trying me
Take a special kind of nigga to defies me
Similar to 8ball and MJG been coming that hard since '93
Niggaz know, ain't no out shinning me
I've been the G you're tryin' to be
I mob with gorillas, squaders and robbers
And killers true niggaz gonna ride me

This for my niggaz with the bank roles
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)
This for my niggaz with the pretty cars
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)

This for my niggaz who got all the hoes
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)
This for my niggaz who don't give a fuck
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)

This for my niggaz with the bank roles
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)
This for my niggaz with the pretty cars
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)

This for my niggaz who got all the hoes
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)
This for my niggaz who don't give a fuck
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)
Look at the grill

Take a look at my wheels, rolling through the south
Still spinning and I'm still smoking heavy
Look at both of my grills, my motherfuckin' mouth
Looking just like the rims on the Chevy

Pimp twist I'm a playa still, ballin' in the game come major bills
Come and take a trip with me to hater Ville
On some 24 omegas and gator grill fuck a twist
Fuck you bitch, I don't really wanna have to bust you bitch
Roman gold shine so hard niggaz out here
Know they can't touch that shit

I don't trip, niggaz pull up
I be lookin' proud when I bust that Dutch
Specially when I look at the mac in the black Cadillac
And the bubbles in the Hummer truck

When you see a nigga cruise through
Niggaz try to jack you and loose my coop is by the kennel wheels
Mother fucker wanna take my style
'Cause niggaz out here know I'm only fuckin' with the bonnet grills

And the haters wanna see me fall
How can I let y'all niggaz play me
Shited on their good then I pull up
From my vehicle while bumpin' 8 Ball & MJG

Twista bitch and I from the shy
With my Memphis connect and I ain't going' lie
We be specializing in and up coming with dope shit
And pulling up in cool whips that's fly
Still drink, still blow, then I creep through the hood real slow
While I bump kamikaze shit, while I scream look at my grill hoe

This for my niggaz with the bank roles
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)
This for my niggaz with the pretty cars
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)

This for my niggaz who got all the hoes
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)
This for my niggaz who don't give a fuck
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)

This for my niggaz with the bank roles
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)
This for my niggaz with the pretty cars
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)

This for my niggaz who got all the hoes
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)
This for my niggaz who don't give a fuck
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)
Look at the grill

Old grill smile, wiling out up in the VIP
The club close at five 'o'clock, we pulling up around three
Wood grain, wheel grippin', Cinderella sippin'
I like my jewelry golden like a piece of fried chicken

Money players is demon like I'm willy beamin'
Like a bitch that practice suckin' dick and drinkin' semen
She sceamin', dreamin', wishin' she can be my number one
Forever young, mama I just wanna' to have some fun

Don't try to ever take my cash from me
You mine as well, jump of a cliff you fuckin' crash dummy
Like that's my last money
This for my niggaz who be bussin' back to perpetrators
We don't discriminate, we'll hurt now hurt you later

But I ain't worried, I smoke one on you fuckin' haters
And I'm hiddin' gators on the refrigerator
Down south Memphis Tenn pimpin' gotta rep it
The third I did, that nigga rugg, boy that nigga pimpin'

This for my niggaz with the bank roles
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)
This for my niggaz with the pretty cars
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)

This for my niggaz who got all the hoes
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)
This for my niggaz who don't give a fuck
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)

This for my niggaz with the bank roles
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)
This for my niggaz with the pretty cars
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)

This for my niggaz who got all the hoes
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)
This for my niggaz who don't give a fuck
(Look at the grill on my pimp mobile)
Look at the grill

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656dfb723a56b43712c6533ec17309c4

Gangstas - Lyrics - Boyz N da Hood - Boyz N Da Hood

Title: Gangstas
Album: Boyz N da Hood
Artist: Boyz N Da Hood
Composer(s): Erick S Sermon, Jay Jenkins, Jacoby White, Wiz Lee Dixon, Miguel T Scott, Phalon Alexander, Eric Wright

Lyric:
Rock this mic
Jody Breeze, Young Jeezy, Big Gee, Duke
Eazy E, Wiz, Block ENT
Boyz N Da Hood, Bad Boy, E Serm, let's go

From the A all the way to Compton
They say the new NWA is comin'
Keep your basses bumpin'
Stay away from who fake and frontin'

Try and play me, I'm ma take your face to thumpin'
I'm a gangsta, I don't need rap for nothin'
And only play games in the A or Compton
Hop by the box, Chevy murder, any man standin'
It's Boyz N Da Hood, E tell 'em where it's standin'

I got beat for the street to tha beach I'll be rolling
Neva see me strolling, 40s I'll be holding
Girls in the daisies, drive Eazy crazy
Rolled up my windows as I turned on my AC

Rolling down Crenshaw, see tha hoes jocking
Sunday nights popping, see tha foes hopping
My stereo's bumpin' that ATL funk
You can call it what ya want, either way the shit bumps

Yeah, being a gangsta is so neat, yeah
Gangsta beat 4 tha street
All this gutter, gutter, pulled up with it
This just the beginning so don't fuck with us, yeah

Being a gangsta is so neat, yeah
Gangsta beat 4 tha street
The Boyz N Da Hood will keep their heart
Come talkin' that trash and we'll pull your car

I'm in the 6-4, 5th bitch strapped, no roof, roof
The Snowman pimp, bitch shoes on the coupe
Stepped in 100 deep, deep, blew a few bucks
G'd up a pair of black strings in the chucks

My wrist so rocky and my neck so bright
My stones change colors like a disco light
Whole team strapped up, let a nigga trip
Desert Eagle in the club, better, nigga flip

From the south to the west, I stay in a vest
Fully loaded, Smif N Wess to protect my nest
Let you trip, disrespect, you get checked
More direct, you end up with a hole in your neck

I must confess there's got to be somethin in the water
Cause every year I age, I gets harder and harder
Got a team of cutthroats, niggaz with hood hoes
Tryin' to cope slum dough, whenever the guns blow

Yeah, being a gangsta is so neat, yeah
Gangsta beat 4 tha street
All this gutter gutter, pulled up with it
This just the beginning so don't fuck with us, yeah

Being a gangsta is so neat, yeah
Gangsta beat 4 tha street
The Boyz N Da Hood will keep their heart
Come talkin' that trash and we'll pull your car

Yeah, I'm crusin' down the street in my LAC
Blowin' good Kenwood, bumpin' Eazy E
With dem Boyz N Da Hood, in the hood I be
We out the fryer, freakin' hoes with Gs
Give [Incomprehensible] to sniff

For all the J's I got thanks to give
If crime pays, then we looking for a gangsta lean
You bad niggaz better tang your lip before
We fuck around and get into some gangsta shit

All black boys in the hoods, four deep
Tote heat, four speed, grow tree, in a spokes?
So, niggaz don't want beef
Nigga run up on the corner, match a barrel through your teeth

Four foot celebrate, fifth all kinda ways
Oh, he ain't gotta say he think he gonna get away
Toting that thang, I'm d-cap that-a-way
The punk went that-a-way, the punk went that away

Yeah, being a gangsta is so neat, yeah
Gangsta beat 4 tha street
All this gutter gutter, pulled up with it
This just the beginning so don't fuck with us, yeah

Being a gangsta is so neat, yeah
Gangsta beat 4 tha street
The Boyz N Da Hood will keep their heart
Come talkin' that trash and we'll pull your car

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bbaae2fc7e47e9b8608a2226c93501ef

Driveby Miss Daisy - Lyrics - Compton'S Most Wanted

Title: Driveby Miss Daisy
Artist: Compton'S Most Wanted
Composer(s): Andre Manuel, Terry Allen, Aaron Tyler

Lyric:
Picture a nigga on the warpath
And he'll spread terror through the city
And leave a trail of blood baths
And to those that know, he's not a phony
But tonight he'll get his vengence on the fool
Who killed his homey

Don't give a fuck, he'll take you smooth on out
'Cause the hood is where it's good is what its about
Geah, don't wanna squable, through down or even kick him
Just pull the fucking trigger 'cause to him your just a victim

Jumped in the car, ash traces of dub
Hit a couple of corners and pulls up at the bud
Spot where it's hot, yeah boy he knows it
But before he does the killing, he's got to get loaded

Throws up the set, then he bones out quick
Then he spits at a bitch just for riding his dick
Now he's at the curb and yeah he gots the feeling
He tells his homey, "G, let's get ready for the killing"

Little did he know Miss. Daisy's in the kitchen
Standing cooking chicken, 9 started clicking
Ran up to the back of the house like releigh races
Just like a train robbery, bandanas on their faces

He heres this fucking little voice in his brain
And its saying don't kill, we're all in the same gang
He tells it back, that ain't the gang I'm in
Because the gang I'm in is like in it to win

So he killed off the sucker right there he didn't stop
Ran through the rooms and went pop pop pop
The explenation for this, he must was crazy
I guess that's why he had to drive by Miss. Daisy

And now the driveby, say hello to my little friend
You die, mutherfucker

Check out the high rolling, young balling, pimp mack, daddy
Drive a 190E, ain't got no time for a caddy
He got snaps because he jacked a nigga
But he fucked up smooth and didn't pull the trigger
Now there's a contract for your head on a platter
If there's somebody with you they'll kill them too it don't matter

Now your laying low at your girlfriend's crib
And your thinking of the shiesty shit that you did
Now you got balls and you pull another jack
Another and another, your pockets on fat

Dont give a fuck if he spends time in jail
Just load up the 9 with the hollow point shells
So nows he's on a mission, to kill or be killed
Since somebody's got to do it and the shoes are to be filled

So now it's 12 o'clock and it's time for a jack
Not even thinking it was time for payback
And yeah, you spot a fool who'll get the rag pack
Rolling close behind while you blase a 20 sack

He stops at a light on Elandra and Central
Jump the fuck out put the gun to the window, it's kinda simple
But you know how it deal and what the fuck was in store
It was the same punk who you tried to jack before

And he won't give up shit, point blank hesitation
Innocent Miss. Daisy at the mobile gas station
His 9 went click, your 9 went clack
Miss. Daisy tried to run but got a shell in her back
The explanation for this he must was crazy
I guess that's why he had to driveby Miss. Daisy

And now the driveby, I'm gonna get you mutherfucker
Say hello to my little friend, so long, have a good trip
You die mutherfucker

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8841e67d5ecd1ed444d33410ee83bb31

It'S About To Go Down - Lyrics - Big Moe

Title: It'S About To Go Down
Artist: Big Moe
Composer(s): Shawn C Carter, Chad Hugo, Christopher Wallace, Sean Combs, Pharrell Williams, Kit Walker, Mason Betha, Rick James

Lyric:
If you thugging in the club
(Thugging in the club)
And you rolling on dubs
(Rolling on dubs)
You ain't tripping, showing love
(And showing love)
Say it's about to go down

You got money in your city
(Money in your city)
And the mamas looking pretty
(Mamas looking pretty)
If you feeling what I'm feeling
(Feeling what I'm feeling)
Say it's about to go down

As I slide down on dubs, moving around on concrete
That G, oh, he and I stays on feet
Heat with hollow clips, ready to bust shots
Glocks, full of heat leaving the situation hot

Plot all day boss hogging for position
Street game all in your face watch the Rolex cushion
Heavy weighter, I'm the champ, Mr. Three-Two
Really though big baby and it's 2002

Wreck a shop with Mo-Yo, I'm boy hard
Boys, want to got to war black them out like tar
Swangers on my guard in a old school
I'm a goddamn fool, start to busting with the two

Fresh braided player made it, deuce out the roof
Rest in peace to my old and in these streets running loose
Ain't no use, trying to stop it just come and pop it
Loco, big dozer and we still sitting sloppy

If you thugging in the club
(Thugging in the club)
And you rolling on dubs
(Rolling on dubs)
You ain't tripping, showing love
(And showing love)
Say it's about to go down

You got money in your city
(Money in your city)
And the mamas looking pretty
(Mamas looking pretty)
If you feeling what I'm feeling
(Feeling what I'm feeling)
Say it's about to go down

Cash me Gucci coat, slicing a bad bitch
Watch her get a China face-lift
Gear shift, we performing up in the land
Suicide doors, dubs and twin cams

All bitches on the fam heads turning tonight
Watch us be the star traction and a harder night
More than Sprite, plus my neck and wrist are cold
Ice cubes in my watch and the piece is just froze

These hoes, all on a nigga dick 'cause I'm young, fly and rich
Escorting a bad bitch, doja lit, I ain't worried about the laws
Hoes whisper to each other girl, I think he played ball
No bitch, I'm just a rapper out the hood

And I'm wrestling with the wood, powered up feeling good
Little engine that could, beat the block for it's stock
Turn around and swap game for a political job
R.I.P. to Pab aka Mr. Sweets

If you peeping from the south we about to blow you fin to see
Gucci boots on her feet, Gucci boots on my feet
I'ma pay a lot tonight, shine and have a seat

If you thugging in the club
(Thugging in the club)
And you rolling on dubs
(Rolling on dubs)
You ain't tripping, showing love
(And showing love)
Say it's about to go down

You got money in your city
(Money in your city)
And the mamas looking pretty
(Mamas looking pretty)
If you feeling what I'm feeling
(Feeling what I'm feeling)
Say it's about to go down

When I hit the scene, I'm crispy clean
I got a box of dough nuts from Crispy Creme
Everybody looking at me like Flip you the shit
Hell yeah I'm the shit, look at my wrists

I roll up a philly, roll up a philly
Head to the town and watch Third Ward Billy
Knock a nigga out while pouring up a drank
Got my mind on the bank, in the jail I use a shank

I sip that, flip that, wood grain grip that
Go to the Papa Do's yeah I'm gone tip that
It's Lil' Flip I'm a million dollar star
Blue, black or red don't touch my car, uh

If you thugging in the club
(Thugging in the club)
And you rolling on dubs
(Rolling on dubs)
You ain't tripping, showing love
(And showing love)
Say it's about to go down

You got money in your city
(Money in your city)
And the mamas looking pretty
(Mamas looking pretty)
If you feeling what I'm feeling
(Feeling what I'm feeling)
Say it's about to go down

I'm shook up, I'm looking throwed
Gucci wardrobe to match the Gucci soles
Gucci hoes and hop out the SL
I'm popped up and sliding on Sprewell

We sell, everything you need
Riding through with Pardon Davis and some falling TV's
Moe and me, we have been a lot
Looking for some head in a little bitty shop

On top, on wrist rock it's going down
H-Town, South Side, third ward bound
Pulled up acting and class so they'll know
The south on shine 'cause we ain't broke no more

If you thugging in the club
(Thugging in the club)
And you rolling on dubs
(Rolling on dubs)
You ain't tripping, showing love
(And showing love)
Say it's about to go down

You got money in your city
(Money in your city)
And the mamas looking pretty
(Mamas looking pretty)
If you feeling what I'm feeling
(Feeling what I'm feeling)
Say it's about to go down

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1f98230efb0c8c89eedbd533deba3b98

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

Police State - Lyrics - Dead Prez

Title: Police State
Artist: Dead Prez
Composer(s): L Alford, A Mair, V Williams, C Gavin

Lyric:
You have the emergence in human society
Of this thing that's called the State
What is the State? The State is this organized bureaucracy
It is the police department, it is the Army, the Navy

It is the prison system, the courts and what have you
This is the State it is a repressive organization
But the State and gee, well, you know you've got to have
The police because if there were no police

Look at what you'd be doing to yourselves
You'd be killing each other if there were no police
But the reality is the police become necessary in human society
Only at that junction in human society where it is split
Between those who have and those who ain't got

I throw a Molotov cocktail at the precinct, you know how we think
Organize the hood under I Ching banners
Red, black and green instead of gang bandannas
FBI spying on us through the radio antennas

And them hidden cameras in the streetlight watching society
With no respect for the people's right to privacy
I'll take a slug for the cause like Huey P.
While all you fake niggas try to copy Master P I want to be free to live

Hey but, they have what I need to live
Bring the power back to the street where the people live
I'm sick of working for crumbs and filling up the prisons
Dying over money and relying on religion for help

We do for self like ants in a colony
Organize the wealth into a socialist economy
A way of life based off the common need
And all my comrades are ready, we just spreading the seed

The average black male live a third of his life in a jail cell
'Cause the world is controlled by the white male
And the people don' never get justice
And the women don' never get respected

And the problems don' never get solved
And the jobs don' never pay enough
So the rent always be late
Can you relate? We living in a Police State

No more bondage, no more political monsters
No more secret space launchers
Government departments started it in the projects
Material objects, thousands up in the closets

Could've been invested in a future for my comrades
Battle contacts, primitive weapons out in combat
Many never come back, pretty niggas be running with gats
Rather get shot in they back than fire back, we tired of that

Corporations hiring blacks, denying the facts
Exploiting us all over the map
That's why I write the shit, I write in my raps
It's documented, I'm in it
Everyday of the week I live in it, breathing it

It's more than just fucking believing it
I'm holding in ones, rolling up my sleeves an' shit
It's Cee-lo for push-ups, now
Many headed for one conclusion
Niggas ain't ready for revolution

The average black male live a third of his life in a jail cell
'Cause the world is controlled by the white male
And the people don' never get justice
And the women don' never get respected

And the problems don' never get solved
And the jobs don' never pay enough
So the rent always be late
Can you relate? We living in a Police State

That's right that developed me
Brought me here and worked me like an animal
Built the political economy off my stolen labor
Made them rich, made me poor

The average black male live a third of his life in a jail cell
'Cause the world is controlled by the white male
And the people don' never get justice
And the women don' never get respected

And the problems don' never get solved
And the jobs don' never pay enough
So the rent always be late
Can you relate? We living in a police state

Why is it that black people and everybody like us
Live in the kind of poverty and misery that we live in?
Everywhere I look around me are nothing but poverty and misery
On the one hand and yet, what I'm seeing is that

Everywhere there's wealth and riches in the world
It's in the white community somewhere
Whether it's in Europe or whether it's right ?cross the
Street from where I was born

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1d1daa02139396a9622126fc984107a2

They Still Gafflin - Lyrics - Compton'S Most Wanted

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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

Z - Party Life - Lyrics - American Gangster - Jay

Title: Z - Party Life
Album: American Gangster
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Shawn C Carter, Sean Combs, Levar Coppin, Willie George Hale, Deleno Matthews, David Stone

Lyric:
Oh, I like the party life
The city in bright lights
Little girls dressed in skintight

Ordered some Patreezy, while talkin' to this breezy
Brushin' off my three-piece, I make this look too easy
So tall and lanky, my suit, it should thank me
I make it look, good to be this hood Meyer Lansky

Mixed with Lucky Lefty, gangster effortlessly
Papa was a rolling stone it's in my ancestry
I'm in a whole 'nother league, niggaz never catch me
And I sport fly shit, I should win the ESPY

When you're blue and got nothin' to do
Head into the party life
If you're feelin' low, we got to see the glow
Head into the party life

I'm on the bra strap, she's on my dick
Ain't nothin' wrong with that, that's my bitch
I be the boss of that, I'm on her shit
So all you niggaz fall back, I'll split your wig

She's my little quarterback, you dig?
'Cause I'm all that in the sack, yeah, you dig?
I spoiled her, foiled it if you fakin' jax
She's used to million dollar vacations
Fuck y'all gon' do with that?

When you're blue and got nothin' to do
Head into the party life
If you're feelin' low, we got to see the glow
Get into the party life

Is you rollin', rollin', rollin'?
Head into the party life
Is you rollin', rollin', rollin'?
Headin'-headin' to the party life

Sippin' on my vino got me cooler than Pacino
And De Niro put together my real life is like 'Casino'
They should pay me for some B-roll, takin' G-strokes through the ghetto
When rap-pap-pap-pid fire's just a necessary evil

Hola hovito, cooler than zero
Below, fresh one blade, no chemo
Art with no easel, please it's no equal
Your boy's 'Off the Wall' these other niggaz is Tito

Oh, I like the party life
The city in bright lights
Little girls dressed in skintight

When you're blue and got nothin' to do
Head into the party life
If you're feelin' low, we got to see the glow
Head into the party life

Guru, turn the lights down let's keep it smooth
This that shit you roll up, like a lil' tight J to
Sip your lil' wine, whatever your vice is y'know
Whatever you like to do, get into your comfort zone baby
Get into your comfort zone

When you're blue and got nothin' to do
Head into the party life
If you're feelin low, we got to see the glow
Head into the party life

Step into my bedroom, I call it the red room
'Cause it gets hot hot hot hot
I trust you gon' like it, see, why are we talkin' all this fly shit?
'Cause I'm the flyest

Hovito, baby, no equal, baby
So let the beat go, let the beat go, now me go baby
Hovito, baby, no equal, baby
So let the beat go, let the beat go, now can we go crazy

When you're blue and got nothin' to do
Head into the party life
If you're feelin' low, we got to see the glow
Head into the party life

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3ac2b6ec7aa4add734ece2c66323de35

Hey - Lyrics - Power In Numbers - Jurassic 5

Title: Hey
Album: Power In Numbers
Artist: Jurassic 5
Composer(s): D Givens, L Macfadden, T Arnold, S Husayn, C Henderson, O Keith, M Potsic, C Stewart, M Stuart

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

Lyric:
Scorpio, Cancer, Leo, Taurus, Sagittarius
Hey, hey, hey

Now, if there's a party theres about to be
Then let me start queuing up the frequency
Six members, fresh spinners, we make the fly ladies say
Hey, hey

The Shak-Zulu shot a rhyme right through you
Now your don't want static with my crew now, do you?
C.A. all day, we make the party people say
Hey, hey

Check it, regardless what you heard this year
The party atmosphere is only crackin' right here
And uh, we givin' you the theme that ya want
Cha come clean if ya want, know what I mean
If ya don't because

We just wanna get you out
To the party everybody's talkin' 'bout

And you don't have to worry 'bout a fee
Ya see, it's all vi-a-vi
Because you're rollin' with me and uh

We just wanna get you out
To the party everybody's talkin' 'bout rolling

Yo, we thought we'd come a little different
Somethin' unscripted push up our percentage
Rip it like we meant it vintage verses
Sentence word smith here with no delay

Relax and don't decay
Turn to the DJ
He can make ya people say
Hey, hey

Yeah, yeah, party people in the place to be
It's all live 'cause the party is packed
(No straps, just raps)
Sweat drippin' ain't nobody set trippin'

All the ladies testifyin' to that
Hey, hey
Ay yo, I'm feelin' the vibe
Take you on a natural high
Boogie wonderland 'cause we gonna party tonight, yo

'Cause we just wanna party wit' you
Hey, hey
Open up your mind and let the vibe flow through
(Uh)
'Cause you don't have to worry 'bout a thing
Let the rhythm heal your brain
While the party people sing
(Hey)

Yo, the more you offer, displayin' your inner visions
Oral officers will be freein' your inhibitions
So skip an intermission and suddenly parlay
'Cause movers are hot pumpin' in butter from parkway

You wonderin' what that prehistoric force is
Make you scream
Hey, hey
Like a heard of hungry horses

Yes, the music you approached me with was inappropriate
Cause me and my associates are closely knit shit
The main course on the menu for today say
Hey, hey
(Talking in background)
Hey, hey

Now if theres a party for the gangstas here
The DJ's spinnin' records you don't wanna here
To have it your way
Participate and make him play
Hey, hey

I represent it, get wit it for the hood
The lights is turned low and the mood is all good
Whether you parlay or on the dance floor say
Hey, hey

Regardless what you heard this year
The party atmosphere is only crackin' right here
And uh, we givin' you the theme that ya want
Cha come clean if ya want, know what I mean
If ya don't because

We just wanna get you out
To the party everybody's talkin' 'bout Chas

And you don't have to worry it's enough
No guest lists and stuff because you're rollin' with us
Now if theres a party theres about to be
Then let me start queuing up the frequency

Six members fresh spinners
We make the fly ladies say
Hey, hey
C'mon, the Shak-Zulu shot a rhyme right through you
Now your don't want static with my crew now, do you?

C.A. all day, to make the party people say
Hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey

And all round you people are screaming
Nation tan, nation tan, nation tan, nation tan
Shit, here it come again, here it come again
Here it come again, here it come again
Here it come again

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c7378f05f8440e2914199389efbdd336

Down '71 (The Getaway) - Lyrics - E. 1999 Eternal - Bone Thugs N Harmony

Title: Down '71 (The Getaway)
Album: E. 1999 Eternal
Artist: Bone Thugs N Harmony
Composer(s): Tony-C Bone D J U-Nee

Lyric:
Playa hatin' ass muthafuckas man fuck dat man put that shit out man
You ain't 'posed to be smokin' no muthafuckin' weed in court
Man fuck dat man they got my nigga man that shit ain't cool man
"Okay order in the court" The people versus Bone Thugs-N-Harmony

Case number C601999 will the defendant please stand
Is there anything you wish to say on this matter
Before sentencing Bizzy Bone? No man
You know the muthafucka did it
Well the court sentences you to death by electric chair

We had to get 'em up wid two thugs
Runnin' side by side wid number one
Murda mo drop my guage on 'em
When the po-po chase

If they catch me barehanded, I'm done
Rip's gripping the six shot pump, so spill it
Copper lettin' the lead off
Copper thought that he had me caught

Little Layzie blew his head off get him up, and get up
The bullets they start to get lit up
Number one best start duckin' wid ah gun already buckin'
Bust me lead on the double glock 'n

Where the fiends roll up for rocks 'n
This perfect getaway, from the pigs when I peel and I hit the fences
Rippin' up the trench and I'm bailing while they trailing
Better in hell than in the cell and it ain't no telling

Where the coppers be dwelling
One had spotted me, pick up ah piece and shot a me
But, I practice what I preach and see that these slugs
Up in his body got him, run, wid smoke coming

From the barrel ah, me gun
Hit the bend, oh what the dum, dum I got yum
Yummed on the dead end they set in, then they lead in
They wanting me off in the coffin

Cops from everywhere was yellin and wailin' I went unconcious
From the stompin' taking ah loss and waking up in the coffin
And without no stallin' cell I was tossed in to be arreigned at dawning
Looking in the eyes of a judge, he knew right where to put that thug

Made to be so, wid no parole In the hole but I won't budge
Sent me to deathrow, watchin' the time by fly past
But Rip'll be sittin' mindless never spineless, in silence

Hoping I die fast, but chill, never do, sleepa
Gotta get put that on all me reefer
Somehow must beat ya, so peep out the creep or
The reaper will meet ya

Bailin' on ah mission, flippin' the script
Betta check what the wind just blew in
Betta think again, it's a preacher wid ah grin
On ah mission for revenge, wid that Mack-10

Little nigga Rip, had to empty the clip
Gotta pump them slugs up in them cops
Steady made 'em drop glock went pop pop
Goin' out like a thug on the double glock

Back from hell and ready to bail
Time to hit they trail 'cause they wanted my nigga fried
Holdin' the Bible when I got a grenade, I'ma go inside the squad
Gettin' ready for the rumble

When I heard them mumbles, pullin' me guage in laughter
Keep buckin 'em faster all I was thinkin'
When I see them bustas scatter
Betta watch out for them buckshots

'Cause them can't fade me guage
Gotta bust them souls in the grave
So I'm buckin' them straight to the pave, can't be saved
I'm bucking, little Ripster reinforcements comin' in faster
Blast give my nigga double Zs the Mack-10

Lettin' the gun gun blaze on they ass
Gotta rip in them chests through vests
Mack-10s, sawed off eruptions, got plenty ammunition
No missing listen destruction, I'm bustin'

'Cause I'm making that getaway, bound to getaway
Niggas got to escape and it's never to late
When you dash and tryna' break
Nigga just can't test the Bone fate

We steadily runnin' duckin'
Comin' up to the front door barri-caded
And I pulled ah grenade, tossed to the door, let it explode
And we made it, creepin' in the courtyard

So Krayzie feelin' safety coming
Hittin' the fence and jump in it quick
From Krayzie's tech-9 bullets humming

Well it seems as if them two boys Bizzy and Layzie
Done got theyselves into another jam
Well I'd love to see them boys get theyself outta this one

Soon as I went in the smoke, rollin' real fast like a dog
And began wid a rage and the guage can't let go
They done labelled my nigga psychotic
Bitches is got him sittin' on deathrow

Scoping out the tower peeping the scene
So when my niggas trail
Screaming out one eighty seven and bail
Gotta get my nigga Rip out that cell, it's all over now

How my nigga number one disguised as the preacher
Won't be pullin' ah Bible mission for survival nigga so I creep the
Tech millimetre, somebody done pull the alarm now it's on
Slaughterin' Bone, sprayed off the tech

Gotta let 'em know which way was on
We got gone but them police was pullin' up quick nigga what's up
Quick bust in first when he hit that fence niggas got cut the fuck up
We steady bucking, steady duckin' buckin' while I was jumpin'

All we was thinking is don't get caught
Nigga like me get the gun running
Gunning fronting wid thugs gotta get to the smug
Turn around and we pump slugs, put 'em in the mud

And all across my face was the red that lay in blood
Dodging the who, make the gun flip wid ah swoo
Bailing back on wid my troops
I'm runnin' wid 4 crazy niggas

That's down wid they niggas they ain't scared to shoot
Now I'm rolling, no more than ah half ah mile we get stopped
Cops surround Bone, we load glocks
And squeeze say fuck all these road blocks

Busted ah you, then put that bitch in reverse
And I get the swish and I push the button
That boy came out the trunk and
Put it in drive see that Souljah boy bucking

Back in the other direction, Po-po came quick then heat up
Niggas blast at each other, open up they doors
And they get they feet up
I jumped outta the car, had to jump over the hood

'Cause I'm headin' straight for the woods
So the niggas they follow behind me
We getaway smooth, ah nigga made good
Came up quick to the hideout

Wait until midnight till we ride out, hit ah car so we can drive out
While we waited we all got fried out, fool
If youse a thuggish ruggish thug nigga scream mo
Took one ah my niggas off deathrow now we got one mo to go

St.Claire, St.Claire, St.Claire, St.Claire
St.Claire, St.Claire, St.Claire, St.Claire

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