Rookie - Lyrics - After The Eulogy - Boy Sets Fire

Title: Rookie
Album: After The Eulogy
Artist: Boy Sets Fire
Composer(s): Rob Avery, Nathan Gray, Charles W Istvan, Matthew Krupanski, Josh Latshaw

Lyric:
Rookie, I never thought this could be me
I guess you never do until it's happening to you
Like all the fun turns into shame
And all the could have been?s rearrange

So little time, so many crimes
Guilt like a chain chokes my will away
Redemption never seemed so cruel
And all my Gods never seemed so weak

Wake up, engage now
Derailed and enraged, it used to be so easy
Get up, I?m game now
Sick and I'm tame, counting cost with lost

Where is the hope they gave
Don't think that I can't hear you laugh
I used to be a lot like you but now I'm only me
Drink to pills, to shots turns into shock

A habit and a pawn
For every hand goes round
The pain gets so damned loud
The hammer hits and I'm down

Trust no one, hey, why should I
They gave me the poison
Dressed like life cheated
Smacked up and diseased

Cry to sleep and fight to eat
Used to be a pro at this
Now I've broken my own wrist
Rotten teeth and life unsung
You'll forget me when I'm gone

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Rookie Of The Year - Lyrics - Funeral For A Friend

Title: Rookie Of The Year
Artist: Funeral For A Friend
Composer(s): Matthew Davies, Darran Smith, Kris Roberts, Gareth Davies, Ryan Richards

Lyric:
The promise that he made
Left broken on the floor
The bruise left round your heart
Left you beggin' for more

The promise that he made
Left broken on the floor
The bruise left round your heart
Left you beggin' for more
Will let you beggin' for more

Thank you for making me
Worthless in your eyes
In hope and desperation
I'll find my only light
In your white wedding dress
In your white wedding dress

Thank you for making this
The best day, of my life
In hope and desperation
I'll find my only light
In your white wedding dress
In your white wedding dress

When in a [incomprehensible] we've seen
Oh I am open to everything
Hope and desperation my only life

And time will, take us all
And drown us in it's wake
And clearly, I will stand
And wipe the blood from your

White wedding dress
And wipe the blood from your
White wedding dress
And wipe the blood from your

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Record Company Pimpin' - Lyrics - War And Peace Vol. 2 (Peace) - Ice Cube

Title: Record Company Pimpin'
Album: War And Peace Vol. 2 (Peace)
Artist: Ice Cube
Composer(s): Stephen Anderson, Erick Sermon, T Gray, Parrish Smith, Roger Parker, Ralph E. Aikens, Tyrone Crum, O'Shea Jackson, Robert Jr. Neal, Clarence Satchell, Keith D. Harrison

Lyric:
Please listen to my demo
Please listen to my demo
Please listen to my demo

A nigga told me the record company's the pimp
The artist is the hoe, the stage is the corner
And the audience is the trip, goddamn

Incredible young nigga
You can't believe I'm just one nigga
Goddamn, I've gotten bigger, intellect superior
Walk in a room and make the whole interior inferior

If you look me in my eyes you might fuck around
And loose control of your mind, body and your soul
Grab a hold, undisputed on the microphone
What you think, if you wink, I'll make you itch think

Did you blink, did you ever drink your own brain matter?
Shotgun enema, this ain't no cinema
All praises due to the creator
For this man here, that can't no nigga stand near

True, inventor of the W
What you wanna do, I got the red and the blue
Show me one nigga dedicated to raps
I'll show you ten niggas dedicated to snaps

Record company death traps settin' decoys
Just to pimp young b-boys
With a cup full of yak, studio contact
Maniac with a contract

Well turn up the bass and the motherfuckin' treble
About to do a deal with the devil for my vocal level
Bullshit points, plus he want to rub it in
And take all my publishin', goddamn

Do I take it up the rectum just to rock the spectrum?
Give up a right arm, just to do a form?
Hell no, all you motherfuckers gon' leave this bitch limpin'
No more, record company pimpin'

No more, no more record company pimpin'
No more, no more record company pimpin'
No more, no more record company pimpin'
No more, no more, no more, no more

You ain't pimpin' me, uh uhh, uh uhh
I ain't pimpin' you, uh uhh, uh uhh
I just wanna be free, I just wanna be free
So what we gonna do? Can I holla at you, holla at you?

You ain't pimpin' me, please listen to my demo
I ain't pimpin' you, please listen to my demo
I just wanna be free, I just wanna be free
So what we gonna do? Can I holla at you, holla at you?

I'ma keep it simple
It went from ?Please listen to my demo?
To ?Get your ass out my limo?
Stretch presidential it's essential
'Cause the record company?ll have your ass in a rental

If you let 'em, you have to behead 'em
Contracts you never read 'em, CEO's you never met 'em
Sent to an attorney, Bernstein and Burney
Nigga, that's his lawyer, ain't got nothin' for ya

Treat ya like they employ ya, I'm a warrior
Bite you in the ass like a Georgetown Hoya
When they ignore ya calls, you got to hold your balls
Catch a motherfucker slippin' in bathroom stalls

And then you show 'em that you ain't a rookie
Let 'em know that you'd rather have
More points than more pussy, pimp turned bookie
Now how the fuck I get in so much debt, goddamn, we just met

He said, ?Welcome to the rap game?
Motherfucker be confused and broke
Before he know what?s happenin'
You can be the star and fuck women
I'ma just play ya back and keep pimpin'

No more, no more record company pimpin'
No more, no more record company pimpin'
No more, no more record company pimpin'
No more, no more, no more, no more

You ain't pimpin' me, please listen to my demo
I ain't pimpin' you, please listen to my demo
I just wanna be free, I just wanna be free
So what we gonna do? I got to holla at you, holla at you

You ain't pimpin' me, uh uhh, uh uhh
I ain't pimpin' you, uhn uhh, uh uhh
I just wanna be free, I just wanna be free
So what we gonna do? I got to holla at you, holla at you

It went from ?Please listen to my demo?
To ?Get your ass out my limo?
It went from ?Please listen to my demo?
To ?Get your ass out my limo?

It went from ?Please listen to my demo?
To ?Get your ass out my limo?
It went from ?Please listen to my demo?
To ?Get your ass out my limo?

Mamas, don't let your kids grow up to be rappers
Unless you tell them if they gonna get in this business
They better learn this business or they gon' get fucked
Simple as that, simple as that

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Gettin' It In - Lyrics - Kiss of Death - Jadakiss

Title: Gettin' It In
Album: Kiss of Death
Artist: Jadakiss
Composer(s): Jason T Phillips, Kanye West

Lyric:
Shorty gettin' it in with me
Shorty gettin' it in with me
She said I brought some friends with me but I don't know why
Because they ain't gettin' in with me
Shorty gettin' it in with me
Shorty gettin' it in with me
She said I brought some friends with me but I don't know why
Because they ain't gettin' in with me

You know me, I'm with a ghetto diva, stiletto fever
Jell-o shots, yellow reefer
Same rules apply, I'm back on top
You can't drink or smoke if you not gon' pop
See me in the popcorn drop, not gon' stop
Takin shots of Catron, gettin' top on yachts
The medallion's a mountain, rock on rocks
The whole world wanna know when this lock gon' drop

Without a doubt, she acknowledge the wealth
Since she ain't give brains, I told her let me get some knowledge of self
Then I told her be proud of yourself and dig deep
And try to see what you could get out of yourself
After all that, I told her to fall back
The Ferrari truck parked in the back is all black
Next time, bring some friends and more 'gnac
It depends how I feel in the morn' if I call back, what

Shorty gettin' it in with me
Shorty gettin' it in with me
She said I brought some friends with me but I don't know why
Because they ain't gettin' in with me
Shorty gettin' it in with me
Shorty gettin' it in with me
She said I brought some friends with me but I don't know why
Because they ain't gettin' in with me

I'm with this bad Ethiopian chick, drinkin' straight up liquor
I told her I'm nigger-ian, a straight up nigga
Now is it just me, or do them ugg's
Have girls be lookin' like sheep skin rugs
Some rhyme with a name, some rhyme nameless
Don't try to treat me like I ain't famous
My apologies, are you into astrology?
'Cause I'm, I'm tryin' to make it to Uranus

See that's a little Don Juan game
All across your chest like Sean John name
Niggaz tryin' to figure out since Kan came
Who the rookie of the year, me or LeBron James?
They say, "Don't get caught up in the hype"
Ain't no tellin' they gon' love you after tonight
Well if tonight's the night, pop bottles, fuck models
Spend money 'til you broke, my nigga live your life

Shorty gettin' it in with me
Shorty gettin' it in with me
She said I brought some friends with me but I don't know why
Because they ain't gettin' in with me
Shorty gettin' it in with me
Shorty gettin' it in with me
She said I brought some friends with me but I don't know why
Because they ain't gettin' in with me

Shorty gettin' it in with me, 600 Benz with me
She wanna spend with me
She see me roll up the bud, then thug out the club
'Cause I got my mens with me
She said she leavin' her friends for me
They ain't gettin' in with her 'cause she gon' bend for me

Her tongue spin like a rim for me, do what she can for me
Look like a ten for me
Now shorty is out with me, usin' her mouth for me
She lookin' out for me
She said, "'Kiss where you live?", I said, "You see the Bridge
When you step on the balcony, let's go"

Shorty gettin' it in with me
Shorty gettin' it in with me
She said I brought some friends with me but I don't know why
Because they ain't gettin' in with me
Shorty gettin' it in with me
Shorty gettin' it in with me
She said I brought some friends with me but I don't know why
Because they ain't gettin' in with me

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118aee829e079d23a2a64ea3b48bc3e6

Way Of Life - Lyrics - Lil' Wayne

Title: Way Of Life
Artist: Lil' Wayne
Composer(s): Dennis Earle Lambert, Terrance J Quaites, Francine Vicki Golde, Dwayne Michael Carter, Duane S Hitchings, Byron O Thomas, Bryan Williams

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

Lyric:
Look'a here
This how we gon' do this
Hook up the turntables
Wolfe, get on the keyboard
And we gon' run it, ya heard

Cash money
Cash money
Cash money
Cash money

Now let me slide in the Benz with the fished out fins
Hit the mall with my girlfriends, dish out ends
'Cause you know it ain't trickin' if you got it
Cop baby girl what she desire, it's chump change mama
Marijuana Scholar, knowin' what I got up in my Styrofoam cup?
That purple stuff, it was givin' to me at birth to stunt
So that's why I cop the Bentley with the leather and the fur in the guts

Hold on, Mami! Them whips on dubs
Cadillac truck, twenty-eights, no rubs
Slide in the Benz, fins, bubble-eye lens
Car show in New York, y'all know who wins
It's the Birdman, daddy, with the Gucci and Prada
Slant-back, cut truck, no rims, can't holla
It's that Louie on Ostrich streets
It's the tailer-made daddy, Mami, do you love me?

Baby, I'ma a stunna
I ain't gon' change it
(I told y'all)
Don't you know
It's a way of life
(I told y'all)

Mama, do you want it?
'Cause I'm about to break it
(I told y'all)
Ooh, baby
Can't stop the stuntin'
No, no
(Bring back that beat)

Pop one, pop two
Them new Nike shoes
Royal blue Jag on them twenty-two's
Flip white to green, 500 Degreez
In that Cadillac truck on them twenty-three's
I'm the boss of the game with the money and fame
All these naked women that pop champagne
And these marble floors stay high as Rick James
If you know my name, then you know my game

It's lil' Whodi from the hot block with ser'ous flow
Gotta get dough 'cause y'all won't feel me, bro
But y'all don't here me though
Till I'm rollin' down my window and my grillie show
And you know I'm prolly pumpin' through the hood on the twenty-fo's
Word! Rims pokin' out the side of the 'ERV
Glock have ya ribs pokin' out the side of ya shirt
I'm a seventeenth nigga and I ride for the turf, whoo

Baby, I'ma a stunna
(I told y'all)
I ain't gon' change it
Don't you know
It's a way of life
(I told y'all)

Mama, do you want it?
'Cause I'm about to break it
Ooh, baby
Can't stop the stuntin'
No, no

Aye, and my pinky glow 'cause my ring is so
Blingy-blingy, yo, stop blinkin' though
We smoke stinky, stinky dro
And we don't cop them ency-wency O's
And we don't stop
Nah! We blow, fuck the people
Everywhere we go, we smell like E-yo
The Birdman my paw, so that make me go
"Fly like an eagle!"
Fo' sure

They think 'cause I stay at English Turn
That stunna don't have a O - Z to burn
(Light it up!)
I go in each sto' and ball like a dog
Me and my nig's, we ball like a dog
Cars on the streets, all on our lawn
Ice in my teeths, all on my arm
Tat's in my face, my back, and my arm
(What?)
That's in my face, my back, and my arm

Baby, I'ma a stunna
I ain't gon' change it
Don't you know
It's a way of life
Mama, do you want it?
'Cause I'm about to break it
Ooh, baby
Can't stop the stuntin'
No, no

Yep! There it is! Ya' lil' low-life
See, I'm a professional
You a rookie
Fuckin' game so serious
I could sell a hooker some pussy
Now, that's some serious shit
Oh yeah, believe that

Who we rollin' wit'?
We rollin' wit' cash money
Oh, I forgot about "Peace"
Peace, I mean, "Piece" of pussy
"Piece" of land, "Piece" of property
It's just a mind game

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78c264c7150c2249bfcad23cfa2033a7

Wanted: Dead Or Alive - Lyrics - Kool G. Rap &Amp; Dj Polo

Title: Wanted: Dead Or Alive
Artist: Kool G. Rap &Amp; Dj Polo
Composer(s): Eric Barrier, Nathaniel Thomas Wilson

Lyric:
Calling all units, be on the lookout for a Nissan sedan
License plates reads, "K O O L G R A P"
Be alert, suspect is armed and extremely dangerous
And also, he's wanted dead or alive
Find him

I'm wanted dead or alive
I stalk the New York sidewalk
All the girls hawk, but I don't stop to talk
I keep stepping with a nine on my waistline

Got 16 shots and I don't waste mine
Never fess 'cause I'm dressed with a bulletproof vest
Try to test, I leave a bloody-ass mess

Driving a Saab that connects with the mob
Bank job, plenty niggers I rob
Blood stains are on my Ballys
A sucker got rowdy, so I shot him in an alley

Pumped his face full of dum-dums
Then left him for the cast of rats and the bums
Yo, a lot of suckers hate me with a passion
'Cause they know I can catch them one night and I ain't flashing

I got a crazy, big posse or should I say a crew?
Of niggers that belong in the zoo
Watch you spit up, blood when you get hit up
One in the head, making sure you don't get up

This is what happens and nobody can't stop it
Crack heads searching a dead man's pockets
Streets are filled with brothers that kill like Ill ville
They murdered before and they still will

Posse's roar in a drug war
'Cause some believe in death before poor
Shooting galleries for a rich man's salary
Pockets so fat they need dough or low calories

I got an order for another manslaughter
Wear the musty badge like his ass fell in water
I had to run up in the kid's crib
For something he did, I didn't dig the little pig

Anyway I didn't have it
In fact now the little fagot is crawling with maggots
Try to bother the neighborhood godfather
And I'll burn your ass up like lava

Took alive the suckers that tried to get live
I never fronted, I'm wanted dead or alive

Unit One, 10-13, suspects in pursuit
Between 7th and Broadway
This is Unit Two, we're closing in
Proceed with caution

Here's the plan, Shannon, you bring the van
Everybody's wearing gloves on their hand
Strictly army suits and long black Timberland boots
I want us all to roll like troops

See now we get the roll on them
'Cause the punk little sucker they shot up came and told on them
I want him bagged them too
Cause ain't no telling of what he might do to my crew

Shoot a sucker at point-blank range
If he seems like he's acting strange
Dump the chump chain, go straight for the green and the jewels
And we can even take niggers' jewels

Shoot to kill and don't leave no witness
Survivors try to get live and get with this
Snatch up the top man and start slapping him
And put a cap in him and then start wrapping him

Up and pass no time to shiver
Stop on the bridge and deliver bodies into the river
Next stop, blow away that pain-in-the-ass cop
The one that keeps getting niggers knocked

Put an end to his shit and he ain't about making collars
The crooked-ass rookie wants dollars
My man Ron's on the rooftop, waiting to snipe
Two bullets went right through his windpipe

Cold blooded, shot down taking his very last breath
Left to bleed to death
Skip the jive, suckers that try to get live
Yo, I'm wanted dead or alive

Unit One, officer down, in need of paramedic
Unit Three, requesting back-up
I repeat, officer requesting back-up
Yo this is Unit Two

Yo I'm in pursuit of him right now
I got him, I got him, I got him
But when you see him, he won't be alive
'Cause I'm gonna get him

I'm wanted dead or alive
So you better go and pin up posters
Souls are burning like bread in the toaster
You stand in a trance with your pants full of manure
Flesh and blood clogs up the street sewers

Ready to kill some one else and
'Cause I'm wanted dead or alive like Baby Face Nelson
Kick butts, a lot of heart, a lot of guts
And I'm quick to kick a nigger in his nuts

Armed robbery, homicide, third degree murder
Plus shit you never heard of
Come in my face with the he say, she say
And I'mma kick you up your ass like Pelé

One night some kids went for broke
And you can almost choke from the gun smoke
Somebody got robbed and got fed up
So he set up the block to get wet up

One kid got caught down a dead-end street
Gunned him down from his head to his feet
One brother got smoked in a car chase
Through the windshield, a bullet in the face

Left his head wide open like a basket
Went to his funeral, shot up his casket
This is the type of shit on the street I survive
Yo, I'm wanted dead or alive

Latest bulletin, suspect seen approaching West Side Highway
I repeat, all units cease pursuit, cease pursuit
Roadblock is now being set up
Over and out

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202d4ebd16684aaec2f29dbac31d94f4

Goodies (Remix) - Lyrics - Goodies - Ciara

Title: Goodies (Remix)
Album: Goodies
Artist: Ciara
Composer(s): Ciara Harris, Lemarquis Jefferson, Jonathan Smith, Zachary Wallace, Sean Garrett, Craig Love

Lyric:
Ladies and gentlemen, whoa, whoa, whoa
Say, looky looky aw suki suki
Want dem goody goodies? Dat's my pookie tuki G
One gurl, get ya back up off tha wall
Do dat matrix part but don't fall

Aw naw we ain't neva done it
You want a hit? Stamp Sho' nuff on it
(Ladies and gentlemen)
Pay attention
Ciara's what the game been missin'

I ain't come here to play wit yall
And now I don't play no ball, I just ball
Dranks for all y'all Gin gale in it
Put ya cups up, Zin Zale sent it

You may look at me and think that
I'm just a young girl but I'm not just a young girl
Baby this is what I'm lookin' for sexy, independent
Down to spend it type that's gettin' his dough
I'm not bein' too dramatic, that's the way I gotta have it

I bet you want the goodies, bet you thought about it
Got you all hot and bothered, maybe 'cuz I talk about it
Lookin' for the goodies, keep on lookin' 'cuz they stay in the jar
Oh oh, oh oh, oh oh, oh oh

Just because you drive a Benz, I'm not goin' home wit you
You won't get no nookie or the cookies, I'm no rookie
And still I'm sexy, independent, I ain't wit it so you already know
I'm not bein' too dramatic, that's the way I gotta have it
You may feel slick, tryna hit but I'm not dumb
I'm not bein' too dramatic, it's just how I gotta have it

I bet you want the goodies, bet you thought about it
Got you all hot and bothered, maybe 'cuz I talk about it
Lookin' for the goodies, keep on lookin' 'cuz they stay in the jar
Oh oh, oh oh, oh oh, oh oh

You way too hot to keep ya goodies on lock
I don't need a locksmith, I got the key to that box
I wanna see you next to me in that drop
Us chillin' in Tahiti no shoes, no socks

Maybe in Jamaica poppin' bottles on the yacht
Then back in Miami grand hustle no stop
Give it to me 'cuz you wanna, I ain't workin' for it
You can keep ya nigga look at me, look at me
(You think I'm payin' for it?)

You're insuating that, I'm hot but these goodies boy are not
Just for any of the many men that's tryna get on top
No you can't call me Layta and I don't want your numba
I'm not changin' stories, just respect the play I'm callin'

I bet you want the goodies, bet you thought about it
Got you all hot and bothered, maybe 'cuz I talk about it
Lookin' for the goodies, keep on lookin' 'cuz they stay in the jar
Oh oh, oh oh, oh oh, oh oh

I bet you want the goodies, bet you thought about it
Got you all hot and bothered, maybe 'cuz I talk about it
Lookin' for the goodies, keep on lookin' 'cuz they stay in the jar
Oh oh, oh oh, oh oh, oh oh

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d1c1965b2824827fec67710bc4a58471

G-Code - Lyrics - Tha G-Code - Juvenile

Title: G-Code
Album: Tha G-Code
Artist: Juvenile
Composer(s): Teruis Gray, Byron O Thomas

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

Lyric:
I ain't terrified from nuthin', I'm young, wild, crazy and disgustin'
Better watch me 'cuz I'm coming with a oven by my stomach
I'm scramblin' for the money, tape ya up like a mummy
Call ya people and tell 'em I need 50 for this dummy
I'm runnin', hidin' and duckin', stuntin', ridin' and thuggin'
Dumpin' fire and bustin', lovin', lyin' and lustin'
Stealin', killin' and rapin', runnin', climbin' and chasin'
Strugglin', hustin' to make, get it, got it, I take it

Watch ya Chevy mister move ya purse miss
'Cuz I tote heavy pistols and man, they burst quick
It's too late to hesitate, I was told there'd be better days
But shit that was yesterday and still I haven't ate
But dog that's how ya labor when ya bein' a thug
These niggas don't seem to feel me till they seein' they blood
Can't hide it though, I represent the 17th Carroll ton Holly grove
That's my G-Code

Now put ya box in the mud
Get ya glocks in ya gloves
Ride drops on dubs
We gon' live by that

Make the snitches catch a cut
Soldier pistol nigga what
Hit the block and open up
We gon' die by that

Now put ya box in the mud
Get ya glocks in ya gloves
Ride drops on dubs
We gon' live by that

Make the snitches catch a cut
Soldier pistol nigga what
Hit the block and open up
We gon' die by that

We raised up lookin' at trees and brick walls
Foreign properties and pack some menthols
Got us a fire connect and went off
Got jammed with this broad that rent cars
Wasn't tryin' to change the game, just be in it
Didn't give a fuck if we balled for 3 minutes
Snatch all the hoes and 'bauds and ree' tennis
Niggas can't survive the shit that we been in

Jack niggas to get some cheap linen
The ones that refuse we put 'em to sleep in it
Got up in the mornin' for class and play hookie
Some of us is veteran some of 'em stay rookie
Bitch couldn't talk to us if she wasn't fuckin'
Ya either be 'bout it or look and keep truckin'
Police drew causes and tried to cross lines
We stuck to the code we lived and died by it

Now put ya box in the mud
Get ya glocks in ya gloves
Ride drops on dubs
We gon' live by that

Make the snitches catch a cut
Soldier pistol nigga what
Hit the block and open up
We gon' die by that

If war ever came we held the fort down
Back, slowed up, we switched and sold pound
Stayed on point to make some more green
Get our stash away from dope fiends
Nigga had a habit, he supplied his own
Always stay hot 'cuz we ride with chrome
We kept a little work for the ki's and bones
Crowds draw heat so we be's alone

We learned how to keep our mouth closed and watch
Them other motherfuckers fall off the block
24/7 all around the clock
We hustlin' of course in the gamblin' spot
We had a chance to stop, we still wasn't ready
Shit kept comin' so we made more fetti
Police drew causes and tried to cross lines
We stuck to the code we lived and died by it

Now put ya box in the mud
Get ya glocks in ya gloves
Ride drops on dubs
We gon' live by that

Make the snitches catch a cut
Soldier pistol nigga what
Hit the block and open up
We gon' die by that

Now put ya box in the mud
Get ya glocks in ya gloves
Ride drops on dubs
We gon' live by that

Make the snitches catch a cut
Soldier pistol nigga what
Hit the block and open up
We gon' die by that

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be4ab14515c85726c3fda475348805ae

My Zone! - Lyrics - Redman

Title: My Zone!
Artist: Redman
Composer(s): Jimmy Mccracklin, Erick Sermon, Louis Freeze, Lawrence Muggerud, T Wertz, Lowell Fulson, Senen Reyes, Reggie Noble

Lyric:
Yo, its on
Niggaz, niggaz
Crackers, crackers
Niggaz, niggaz

Yo Jo, Jo
This is a test of the emergency smokecast system
This, this is a test
This, this, this is a test of the emergency smokecast system

Yo, yo, yo
Funk doc is on a world tear jumpin' thirteen thousand feet
Out of plane in the air like where!
The next ghetto I'm gonna run
I'm gonna shut them ear drums until you talk a sign language, there go, son

Walls start to bleedin' when my jaws is leakin'
Doc, do two hundred first week, your label call a meeting
Yea, I'm gonna let the gorrilas up in your building
Kick your door, shoot up the ceiling, snatch the coke, kidnap the children

Don't start lying about your tire being flat or catching a allergy attack
When I axe the battle, when the bat
Saddling them ho's like yeehaw
Bitch, enjoy the tour when you're fuckin' the doc, five o'clock free ride

Ambulance too late for them, these paper thin niggaz
Robbin' at the ATM with a staple gun
I'm a rookie scuba diver, holler
You rap scholars do the knowledge
You won't make it through to college

Be the R I C K
Never wore those, my lyrics to the mic
Is like my hormones to pornos
Bitches keep the door closed

Mothafuckers be tryin' to step in my zone
I grab my chrome, an' I'm like, yo it's on
Mothafuckers be tryin' to step in my zone
I grab my chrome, an' I'm like, yo it's on
Mothafuckers be tryin' to step in my zone
I grab my chrome, an' I'm like, yo it's on
Mothafuckers be tryin' to step in my zone
I grab my chrome, an' I'm like, yo it's on

Aiyo, who fuckin' with us
We bustin' your gut with lyrics
You either feel it or fear it
And smash the hardest artist regardless in steez
I'm heartless with these, you ready, cock it and squeeze

With precise precision you better listen
Guaranteed to blow your vision if we engage in collision
Talk slick and be laid out in chalk
I still stay out in Nork and blaze my way to court
So nigga fuck what you thought

Yo, I'm straight
Yo, I'm straight

This is DJ, say what
Let the monkeys out or we ain't spankin' it
Or W, fuck all your radio
You want the fuck, ass cold for temperatures
To be in a low thirties tonight
So break out the switch in this, in the heni
And listen for the summer to win tickets to the
Def Jam's beat the nigga asshole
The number to call in is 1-800-haul ass
That's 1-800-HAUL ASS
Now, check out another cuck

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5f146038901bb02d50a9d4359a7adff8

My Life - Lyrics - Street Dreams - Fabolous

Title: My Life
Album: Street Dreams
Artist: Fabolous
Composer(s): Lisa Peters, William Jeffrey, John David Jackson, Kanye Omari West

Lyric:
All my love is all I have
All my life I look for you

I'm just Fab, I see how Mary be now but I can barely be found
And I rarely be 'round
But when I do, the jury be drowned
And you can see how clear the Pavees, and the Canaries be now
The top on the 5 series be down
And I'm chillin' where them little houses on the prairie be now
Although there was a time I would barely see thous
But I'm gettin' a multi-million dollar yearly fee now

Girls, don't even know me, want to marry me now
Dudes, I thought was homies, want to bury me now
That's why I keep a bulletproof vest, no matter where we be now
And I carry three pounds and nearly three rounds
I take whatever the verdict from the jury be now
Rather than friends, it's pallbearers that carry me round
Everybody staring unnecessarily now
But there's no tints on my life, so you can clearly see now

All my love is all I have
And my dreams are very special
All my life I looked for you
And today your dream come true
You need me and I need you
Lovin' us is very special
Lovin' life and life and livin'
Your very special

Y'all can never be built like me, even if y'all look at my blueprint
But since y'all watches look like its movement
I'll show you how video games look on the newsprint
Flip out digital screens, look in the new bent
100 and flat screens, look in the new pint
Even our Air Forces lookin' to new tints
I stay away from anythin' that look like a nuisance
But y'all gotta peep this rookie's improvement

I tip it with you, and 'cause most dudes was doin' verses for a few dollars
And a hook for a few cents
All I do is try to teach and look to influence
But it look like the students are playin' hooky, and truin
And some say that we lookin' like new gents
But money talks and it don't look like y'all fluent
And y'all done seen how this young an' look in the new pints
But it's my life and you can't look in the new tints

All my love is all I have
And my dreams are very special
All my life I looked for you
And today your dream come true
You need me and I need you
Lovin' us is very special
Lovin' life and life and livin'
Your very special

Uh, If I could say so myself, I came a long way
Even though I feel like the same old John J.
Nothin' change, when I aim, I'm gonna spray
When I eat, I order the same old entree
When I ride, I let the same old songs play
And when I work, I do the same old long days

From bein' Fab, to looked at by dames the wrong way
They know where we came, from the name they call me
I already know what these lames is gonna say
And I already seen what games they gonna play
Fuck with family, don't say the name the wrong way
And when you die, y'all crackers gonna blame it on strays

'Cause love and life and life and livin'
Your very special

All my love is all I have
And my dreams are very special
All my life I looked for you
And today your dream come true
You need me and I need you
Lovin' us is very special
Lovin' life and life and livin'
Your very special

Me and Fab are very special
Me and Fab are very special

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f54d3ed38b37323b42ce7c3fdd3f98c9

Want What I Got - Lyrics - Mc Lyte

Title: Want What I Got
Artist: Mc Lyte
Composer(s): Lana Moorer, Gerard Thomas, Missy Elliott, Donald L Holmes, Aleesha Richards

Lyric:
I can rock a party with a glass of Hennessey
I know I make y'all sick with the way I boogie
My fake ass friends wanna hang out tonight
I?ll tell ?em follow me then I?ll ditch ?em at the light

I see ?em at the club, they wanna know why I?m whilin?
'Cause I smoke weed now I?m high like a pilot
Spendin? more cheese than you throw on a salad
Hand me my mike, if you ?bout it, then I?m ?bout it

Mmmm, yea I?m ?bout it
Don?t doubt it, don?t doubt it
I?m the MC Lyte but boo please don?t crowd me
'Cause my security might get rowdy
Make ?em punch you out and watch your vision go cloudy

Now all you freaks wanna speak 'cuz I?m back
Stick to your gossip like the glue to your tracks
I never liked your ass, by the way, 'cuz you?re wack
Give a dog a bone so here?s a Lyte snack

Yo, yo
Want what I got? Come through then
You at home wit? a safe you ain?t got nothin? in
Ask how I got it and keep it comin? in
From hustlin?, doublin? and publishin?

Want what I got? Come through then
You at home wit? a safe you ain?t got nothin? in
Ask how I got it and keep it comin? in
From hustlin?, doublin? and publishin?

Used to be a rookie singin? Latti Datti
Now me and Missy beco rockin? the party
Flooded Movado, ain?t I fly though
Never let ?em see you comin?, that?s my motto

I?m on it, I?m on it, I had the nigga goin?
Said I was a hot tomali, mind blowin?
It?s crucial, how some folks get bourgeois
Or bourgeois, did I lose you or did you lose me?

Either way we miles apart
I?m hittin? the ribbon, you at the start
I?m never, ever, ever, gonna let you think
That your shit don?t stink

So don?t come around here thinkin? you can?t get it
You?ll be the first to admit it
How you got punked by hip hop?s greatest
Missy and Lyte bringin? you the latest, yo, yo

Want what I got? Come through then
You at home wit? a safe you ain?t got nothin? in
Ask how I got it and keep it comin? in
From hustlin?, doublin? and publishin?

Want what I got? Come through then
You at home wit? a safe, you ain?t got nothin? in
Ask how I got it and keep it comin? in
From hustlin?, doublin? and publishin?

I treat niggas like they my hoe
Blaze ?em then I go, straight to the Nikko
Meet another Puerto Rico
Cute like tico, copy me like kinko

You know I?ma freak, yo
I don?t love them amigos
I?m straight to their pockets
Bow all their sockets

I?m plush like carpet
They wanna stick the target
I don?t give a fuck what you rock
'Cuz you see what I got, you want what I got

Want what I got? Come through then
You at home wit? a safe, you ain?t got nothin? in
Ask how I got it and keep it comin? in
From hustlin?, doublin? and publishin?

Want what I got? Come through then
You at home wit? a safe you ain?t got nothin? in
Ask how I got it and keep it comin? in
From hustlin?, doublin? and publishin?
Want what I got

Want what I got? Come through then
You at home wit? a safe you ain?t got nothin? in
Ask how I got it and keep it comin? in
From hustlin?, doublin? and publishin?

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afdc4f45401a73d9ebca3de9ef7f8963

Rollin' Up Some Mo' - Lyrics - Thug On Da Line - Krayzie Bone

Title: Rollin' Up Some Mo'
Album: Thug On Da Line
Artist: Krayzie Bone
Composer(s): Jermaine Hargrove, Kimberly Laurice Ward, Christian Pletschacher, Lichelle Laws, David Lubega, Keith Griffin, Eloyd Britt, Anthony Henderson, Damaso Perez Prado

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

Lyric:
Rollin up some mo'
Rollin up some mo'
Rollin up some mo'

A little bit of reefer's all I need
(All I need)
With a little big of Gin mixed with Hennessey
(Hennessey)
A little bit lighter really sets the mood
Have you feelin' like everything is so damn cool

A little bit of reefer's all I need
(All I need)
With a little big of Gin mixed with Hennessey
(Hennessey)
A little bit lighter really sets the mood
Have you feelin' like everything is so damn cool

Hop in my Five-Double-O
Roll up my window asshole your lettin' out all the smoke
You never waste a blow, motherfucka don't you know?
I'm a weed head, P.O.D ded stayin' tweeded
It make me happy
Won't even sleep unless I'm beamin', fiendin'

Which one of you niggaz gonna put some ends in?
'Cuz I'm tellin y'all right now I'm smokin' everything I'm spendin'
Goin' down, cop a quarter pound now we in here blowin' it
Wait a minute where's the bowl at?
Young Dre done got me spoiled man

Done smoked two blunts, and now I'm feelin' like I can fly
I get into zones of my own everytime I get high
And whenever it is, I think I see
I'm buzzin' so it doesn't really matter to me

I got issues nuttin' but problems feels my green
My nigga wanna test me with the same old games
Got this chicken down in San Diego, and he trickin' on my pesos
And he think that I don't know

And he got the gall he fuckin' two of my dawgz
Now they actin' kinda funny when I call
So when I'm with my thugs on da line
Tonight no lady like instead I grab a fifth of Hen
Take it to the head, c'mon

A little bit of reefer's all I need
(All I need)
With a little big of Gin mixed with Hennessey
(Hennessey)
A little bit lighter really sets the mood
Have you feelin' like everything is so damn cool

A little bit of reefer's all I need
(All I need)
With a little big of Gin mixed with Hennessey
(Hennessey)
A little bit lighter really sets the mood
Have you feelin' like everything is so damn cool

No niggaz came late to get me, Keith G pass the Henny
Kray lookin' like a chimney, TLI'll smoke whatever and any
Naw, I'm buggin' my squad ain't druggin' like that
Luggin' the Mak, LeReece all nice with K-mont in the back

Blunts and stunts is what's rolled up
Once it's lit it's hit, and if you ask me why I'ma tall ya what
What ya want?
Smoke a blunt all jokes is front fuck beatin' around the bush
Kick the the group's ass ya punks

I mix Henny with Alize get drunk and talk slick
Niggaz be sizin' me up, you know I'm ready to flip
My niggaz stay smokin out, sippin Hen and Tengery
Nigga, we be havin' hella fun like they do in the bay

It be the weekend gangstas that me causin' the tention
You might catch me while I'm out, in the tough guy convention
But don't get it fucked up, because I'm all about my cheddar
It ain't easy being me, but nobody could do it better

A little bit of reefer's all I need
(All I need)
With a little big of Gin mixed with Hennessey
(Hennessey)
A little bit lighter really sets the mood
Have you feelin' like everything is so damn cool

A little bit of reefer's all I need
(All I need)
With a little big of Gin mixed with Hennessey
(Hennessey)
A little bit lighter really sets the mood
Have you feelin' like everything is so damn cool

Every time I'm rollin' out with Krayzie we crazy, try not to get cuffed up
Fucked up sippin' on that siz urp, pourin' out that cup of stuff
Them Jolly Ranchers and enhancers, I mix it up like a chemist
Drop about 10 of 'em in it, then sip it slow 'til it's finished

Then it's that [Incomprehensible]
Little [Incomprehensible] is safe at home
Then get your brain broke, they boiler makers and they chain smoke
Boss ain't no fuckin' rookie, put purple permethozine up on you team
That's guaranteed to make you lean
And keep you higher than giraffe pussy

I ain't ate all day, but steadily gettin' fucked up
Smokin' this weed, waitin' to get scooped up
It's the bum Keith G, carribus we on twists
We needed a fix, my nigga dip into the rent

We worry about that payback later we gonna smoke
And live for the meanwhile puffin with Juvenile, what?
I'm in the mood to speak my piece, pass the mic
I'm in the mood to drink some burb, we high tonight

A little bit of reefer's all I need
(All I need)
With a little big of Gin mixed with Hennessey
(Hennessey)
A little bit lighter really sets the mood
Have you feelin' like everything is so damn cool

A little bit of reefer's all I need
(All I need)
With a little big of Gin mixed with Hennessey
(Hennessey)
A little bit lighter really sets the mood
Have you feelin' like everything is so damn cool

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5e8a33db28ae183b714eeac5fdd911a8

Shottas - Lyrics - What the Game's Been Missing! - Juelz Santana

Title: Shottas
Album: What the Game's Been Missing!
Artist: Juelz Santana
Composer(s): Greg Green, C. Giles, Seon Thomas, Miguel Collins, L. Moore, Laron James

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

Lyric:
Click clack and it's over you dead
(This is it)
My damn glock, buss a cap in your head
(Santana)
It's in my blood I love killin' you fools
(This here for my shottas)
I'm a thug, that goes by no rules
(DipSet)

Heaven knows if I'm meant to go
(I'm a shotta)
Let me know if I'm meant to go
(I'm a shotta)
Send the toast if I'm meant to go
(I'm a shotta)
Tell my folks I've been sent to go

I got a shotta, shotta, shotta, shotta
Scream shotta, shotta, shotta, shotta
We shottas, shottas, shottas, shottas
Yeah shottas, shottas, shottas, shottas

All sides, all guys, all rise now
Bo! Bo! Bo! Bo! Lick four shots now
Now all ladies, more ladies, all guys down
Say Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Four times now

Shake that ass like a shotta hoe, get in shotta mode
It's DipSet bitch, yeah, there them shottas go
And them shots will go and them shots a blow
Damn straight through your man's plantano

You'll get a pushin' rod for bein' a rookie paw
And puttin' your head in the next man cookie jar
We supportin', enforcin', extortion
Involvin' take Bronson, or money launderin'

We are shottas, yes y'all to the death y'all
Money power respect y'all the hell with the rest y'all
If heaven ain't got a ghetto I guess I'm goin' to hell
With the rush y'all, with a L and my vest on

Heaven knows if I'm meant to go
(I'm a shotta)
Let me know if I'm meant to go
(I'm a shotta)
Send the toast if I'm meant to go
(I'm a shotta)
Tell my folks I've been sent to go

I got a shotta, shotta, shotta, shotta
Scream shotta, shotta, shotta, shotta
We shottas, shottas, shottas, shottas
Yeah, shottas, shottas, shottas, shottas

Click clack and it's over you dead
My damn glock, buss a cap in your head
It's in my blood I love killin' you fools
I'm a thug, that goes by no rules

Click clack and it's over you dead
My damn glock, buss a cap in your head
All my thugs and I love kill you fools
Aye, outlaws goes by no rules

Now tell me who wanna fuck with us?
(Who)
Who wanna romp with us?
(Who)
(Bo! Bo! Bo! Bo!)
You know what's up with us, true coke smugglers
(We are shottas)
Tombstone coverers the news goin' need full blow coverage

Our shottas big was a shotta Pac was a shotta
(Bo!)
Shyne locked up 'cause Shyne was a shotta
(Bo!)
Shottas, one more time lick a shot for my shottas
My pops was never there that made my mama the shotta
(Bo!)

Made by a woman I was raised by a woman
So I never love a bitch but I stays by my women
(They are shottas)
We a breed of achievers
That will do anything to succeed or achieve it

You walk like a shotta, you talk like a shotta
But won't stand up in the court like a shotta
Niggaz like you ought to get shot up
For actin' and bein' a fraudulent shotta

Heaven knows if I'm meant to go
(I'm a shotta)
Let me know if I'm meant to go
(I'm a shotta)
Send the toast if I'm meant to go
(I'm a shotta)
Tell my folks I've been sent to go

I got a shotta, shotta, shotta, shotta
Scream shotta, shotta, shotta, shotta
We shottas, shottas, shottas, shottas
Yeah, shottas, shottas, shottas, shottas

My shottas, they shotta
Dreadlock Rastas, Rudeboys, pop the
Imposter hang with the lobsters
Sing like the opera, or bang with the mobsters

Don Gargon pardon, love the drama
Un-tuck the lama, now suck your mama
Boom boom bang clutch zoom zoom
Who hum guys wise yes touch pum pums

I'm Gotti boy, with that shotty toy
Ladi dadi howdy mami I body a battyboy
I cannot flop, ock this a shot clock
Twenty four seconds your inside a hot pot

It get deep daddy, out the peach caddy
He curry chicken, turn him a beef patty
Get the coco bread, I'm a loco head
With the 'fo 'fo, oh, he'll be oh so dead

Click clack and it's over you dead
My damn glock, buss a cap in your head
It's in my blood I love killin' you fools
I'm a thug, that goes by no rules

Click clack and it's over you dead
My damn glock, buss a cap in your head
I'm a thug and I love kill you fools
Hey, outlaws goes by no rules

We shottas, shottas, shottas, shottas
Scream shotta, shotta, shotta, shotta
We shottas, shottas, shottas, shottas
Yeah, shottas, shottas, shottas, shottas

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b8d53b64b695e463fdcdbd2bf73b6713

Damn (Remix) - Lyrics - Youngbloodz

Title: Damn (Remix)
Artist: Youngbloodz
Composer(s): Jeffrey Grigsby, Cedrick Leonard, Jonathan H Smith, Sean Joseph, Craig D Love, Robert W Iii Mc Dowell

Lyric:
Okay, okay, okay
This Sean Paul, Lil Jon
J-Bo, Youngbloodz
You already know how we do it homeboy

It's A-Town
(105 road for dem hoes)
It's A-Town, Attic Crew you already know
(East side for dem hoes)
Lil John, East side Boyz and yo boy Sean Paul
Let me tell ya like dis here boy
(Let's go)

They callin' me to come back to the streets
Sean P. A.K.A Sharp Crease
Said it was necessary, these sucka niggaz out here very scary
They comin' whole they livin' in the month of February

Okay then put a sissy nigga on display then
Kick in tha door and have my folk dem bring dem K's in
I'm still Attic A-double T I C
It ain't a hoe out there fo' real who don't know 'bout me

Bitch I'm fo' sho' wit it don't make me pop that trunk to the 'Lac
Bitch I will go get it and I ain't selfish I will let you and your hoe feel it
Won't catch me sippin' on no Cris and got a cold feelin'
It's Youngbloodz A-Town

Malt liquor sippin', comin' straight from the gutter
Toe-tag a motherfucker, leave 'em under a cover
Lil John, he drop the beat that make ya bounce like rubber
Sean Paul he tote the heat to make ya mug then slug ya yeah

If you don't give a damn, we don't give a fuck, hey
If you don't give a damn, we don't give a fuck, hey
If you don't give a damn, we don't give a fuck, hey
If you don't give a damn, we don't give a fuck, hey

Don't start no shit, it won't be no shit
Don't start no shit, it won't be no shit
Don't start no shit, it won't be no shit
Don't start no shit, it won't be no shit

I post up get to it, drink hand in hand
They call me Mr. Herringbone 'cuz that's my right hand man
Old school straight foolish like no other indeed
With Lil John it's Youngbloodz they crunk as can be

Attic Crew 105 that's if you lookin' to rumble
Cock back bust aim now I done got yo number
In the club you gone feel it when it drop this summer
Like rain we gone pour and hit you hard like thunder

'Cuz in the Dirty we dem boys that drank you under the table
Where dem niggaz pimp hoes in fly suits and gators
In my Chevy so super I'm the one to call
Just dial 1-800-430 slash alcohol

And dawg I'm not the one that you really just wanna clown
I'm cool in my way, but shit still I shut 'em down
And piss on them haters J-Bo he cuts a fool
In the cut 'bout slizzard somewhere that's how we do

If you don't give a damn, we don't give a fuck, hey
If you don't give a damn, we don't give a fuck, hey
If you don't give a damn, we don't give a fuck, hey
If you don't give a damn, we don't give a fuck, hey

Don't start no shit, it won't be no shit
Don't start no shit, it won't be no shit
Don't start no shit, it won't be no shit
Don't start no shit, it won't be no shit

Out of town hard heads get swiss cheesed up
And you gon' need more than stitches to patch that leak up
Chump like me up my mouth TB'd up
With the plush leather guts steady grippin' the butt

Oh, you fo' sho' with it, then pull yo pistol
Show a nigga you ain't hoe with it
And I ain't selfish I will let you and your folk feel it
Talkin' big boy shit, me muggin' like a motherfucker my hand on my dick

'Cuz at a grip we keep it jumpin' like it ain't nuttin' new
We started off with shake 'em off so look potna oh guess who
It's them boys from the bottom who took you down 85
And hit you with that U-Way so rookie don't be surprised

We buckin' blowin' killa and sippin' on something good
I'm peepin' out the scenery and wishin' a nigga would
In case it just might pop I'm 'bout ready to lock and load
To take you through the South to show you how we throw dem bows

If you don't give a damn, we don't give a fuck, hey
If you don't give a damn, we don't give a fuck, hey
If you don't give a damn, we don't give a fuck, hey
If you don't give a damn, we don't give a fuck, hey

Don't start no shit, it won't be no shit
Don't start no shit, it won't be no shit
Don't start no shit, it won't be no shit
Don't start no shit, it won't be no shit

If you don't give a damn, we don't give a fuck, hey
If you don't give a damn, we don't give a fuck, hey
If you don't give a damn, we don't give a fuck, hey
If you don't give a damn, we don't give a fuck, hey

Don't start no shit, it won't be no shit
Don't start no shit, it won't be no shit
Don't start no shit, it won't be no shit
Don't start no shit, it won't be no shit

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ba4438a4459c8732a5ff119b66e15ac0

Hot - Lyrics - The Sneak Attack - Krs One

Title: Hot
Album: The Sneak Attack
Artist: Krs One
Composer(s): Lawrence Parker, Maurice Ernest Gibb, Robin Hugh Gibb, Barry Gibb

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

Lyric:
Yeah, who will be standing when the smoke clears?
(KRS-One)
Word up, what's up with this? We're coming through
Boogie Down style, kid, what's up?
This is KRS-One, the light at the end of the tunnel

Yo, they not hot, all they do is talk a lot
That's not hot, where's your respect on the block?
That's hot, not 'cause you're friends with the cops
That's not hot, a real MC you're not

I'm hot, been hot, repeatedly heated
Don't call the teacher, hah, you best be seated
You got these kids gazed up like you own the inventory
Fake muthafuckas ain't tellin' the whole story

Tell 'em how you borrow from everyone you knew
And now that you're on top, they can't borrow from you
That's not hot, tell 'em how you love bein' pop
'Cause you was so broke before sleepin' cold on a cot

You don't rock, you grab money
Your crocks rock the spot and you grab them honeys
It's about to get ugly
I don't even go to these bullshit kiddie-ass clubs

You wanna be a thug? Let's thug
First of all, soldiers speak to soldiers
Captains speak to captains
Lieutenant, lieutenant, cool?

But your first mistake is, he's steppin' to me, rookie
Like you a O.G. and you just a run-up, fool
Who really got these streets on lock?
Whose name really holds high respect on the block?

Who opened up these clubs and taught you how to mix?
Who opened up these thugs from Compton to the Bricks?
I don't even sound like the rest of you kiddies
I study the ways of God, you studyin' titties

And ass, I pity your class
'Cause you come out with a blast
But you're trash, so you really don't last

They not hot, all they do is talk a lot
That's not hot, where's your respect on the block?
That's hot, not cause you're friends with the cops
That's not hot, a real MC you're not

They not hot, all they do is talk a lot
That's not hot, where's your respect on the block?
That's hot, not 'cause you're friends with the cops
That's not hot, a real MC you're not

This is hotter than heat, too deep, I'm on top of the streets
You weak, you ain't really rockin' these beats
You [unverified], you dress straight, eat straight
But you're a slave and yo, you can't come up in a heat tank

God we thank, we watch what we sell
You better hope these Christians are wrong 'cause you goin' to hell
Think about that when you're spittin' your raps
And you call out KRS, I'll put you flat on your back

You're not hot, all you do is talk a lot
That's not hot, where's your respect on the block?
That's hot, not cause you're friends with the cops
That's not hot, a real MC you're not

What's hot?
(KRS-One)
That's hot, what's hot?
(KRS-One)

That's hot, who's hot?
(KRS-One)
That's hot, where's your respect on the block?
(KRS-One need to be runnin' for office)
(So Butta-Pican Rican, tell 'em to get off it)

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Forever - Lyrics - Cocky - Kid Rock

Title: Forever
Album: Cocky
Artist: Kid Rock
Composer(s): R.J. Ritchie, Matthew Shafer, Frederick Beauregard

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

Lyric:
Oh, I'm back the fog is lifted
The earth is shifted and raised the gifted
You knew I'd be back so pack your bone
And hit the road jack 'cuz daddy's home

With the funky hot riffs, tick like Al Rocker
Pumpin' out hits, gettin' chips like Oprah
Bitch, I told ya, do not hate
Or question the music I make

I make punk rock and I mix it with the hip hop
I get you higher than a tree top
You wanna roll with the Kid Rock

I make southern rock and I mix it with the hip hop
I got money like Fort Knox
I'll forever be the Kid Rock
Forever

The junkies are still cigar puffin'
Still the same 'cuz I ain't changed nothin'
Huffin' and puffin' I got you rookie
All in check doin' the redneck boogie

The king is back to retract the whack
Repacked my sack with a double back pack
Forget all that I'm still singing
And like kids on monkey bars I'm still swingin'

Thought I got dusty, thought I'd get rusty
Thought I'd get rich and quit oh, he must be fat and ugly
Broke black and blue
But I'm trim fit rich and I'm back for round two

Red white and the Pabst blue ribbon
Dead right that's how I'm livin'
Givin' you more than the frauds and fakes
They can't make the kind of music I make

I make punk rock and I mix it with the hip hop
I get you higher than a tree top
You wanna roll with the Kid Rock

I make southern rock and I mix it with the hip hop
I got money like Fort Knox
I'll forever be the Kid Rock
Forever

The black hat is back in original form
The legible, credible, inevitable storm
Way past the norm still misbehavin'
Finger in the air and the flag still wavin'

Young crones don't test the boss
'Cuz I got this sewn like Betsy Ross
You can floss and front, you can taunt and tease
But you can't fuck with rhymes like these

Thumpin' like a drum kit with riffs that split picks
Pumpin' for the kids who twist spliffs and sip fifths
I got the gift I'm about to unwrap it
8 ball side pocket, 8 ball in my jacket

Pussy and blow you now how I live
Can't say that kid, fuck off I just did
Watch me twirl like Earl the Pearl
Or just keep on Kid Rocking in the free world

I make punk rock and I mix it with the hip hop
I get you higher than a tree top
You wanna roll with the Kid Rock

I make southern rock and I mix it with the hip hop
I got money like Fort Knox
I'll forever be the Kid Rock
Forever

Punk rock
Forever
Hip hop
Forever

Southern rock
Forever
Kid rock
Forever

Punk rock
Forever
Hip hop
Forever

Southern rock
Forever
Kid rock
Forever

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I Refuse Limitation - Lyrics - Goodie Mob

Title: I Refuse Limitation
Artist: Goodie Mob
Composer(s): Willie Knighton, Raymon Murray, Jamahr Williams, Robert Barnett, Patrick Brown, Thomas Burton, Cameron Gipp, Rico Wade

Lyric:
One time

Uh for these freaky hoes I lust
But I'm still flickin' ashes a lot of other motherfuckers snort dust
But that's they thang a lot of us fall victim somehow
But that's that game won't try to explain from books to bricks
Now I look, seen crooks and tricks caught up in the mix
Of everyday in every way but the right
I control the substance my people fiend for at night

Lord knows I do wrong, sound like the same old song
A lot of niggas singing homeboys conceal your weapons
'Cause ain't gonna be no smokin' section in heaven
No more be buckin' yo luck seven eleven on the first roll
Don't let the streets rock and roll yo soul
Swats GA by way of cascade heights
Gunshots, roadblocks, sidewalks and ice

Sold me out for 3.5 grams of neighborhood clout
Now what the fucks we bout I'm back home from the bullshit
Puttin' in work, meanwhile others dug ditches and covered
Themselves in dirt, one squirt and you locked down forever
Can't run from reality luring you closer and closer away
To the same old traps, now you never learn from your mistakes
So now you wear this ass whoopin' wit' pride, what side you on?
It wasn't no I in team, only in your dreams, saturated with schemes
Yeah you right, God gonna deal wit' ya fallin' from his grace
Rookie moves cops shift the game and 30 days

I'm blessed in the hole but that's till I go to the state federal
Penitentiary, yeah I could a did my time standin' on one feet
But see I fucked up royally thought I was slick
Them herpes-havin' ass crackers changed my big check to six
Times wit' Dean Whitaker's sermon of the day
But when I go to sleep I don't dream no more I just lay
A wise man knows his limitations concrete, concrete like Greg Street

Sufferin' from a severe case of inner city blues
I ain't got no clues to which directions I need to choose
This opportunity to gain is all I got to lose
'Cause I just can't settle for these streets shawty I refuse

That's the shit I like Lord got the door shot down to the pavement
Remove yo hat under the ceiling of this building
A rebuff from the usher of sorts because [Incomprehensible]
Most strive for the diamonds and overlook the gems
Got skimp wit yo bags boulders become shoulders to depend on
Which way to explore reform, refrain, we can't inflame
Every thought you walk through the trails is hell
Airborne for what clone me replace me wit' me

Another nation inside a nation out the land of Scots
Suction cups to test tube layer of skin
Supply the crust and we'll mix the fruit
Gun shows supplied me in the hour of need
Watch 'em bleed Aryan nation be the dealer
Now who's the killer? Yeah, yeah, yup yup that's the shit I like
That's the shit I like

Uh puttin' forth the effort to make a change
Not doin' a lot of talkin' bout it, what's yo game?
You slippin' you can't never do that
That's when you get jacked for yo life over emotions runnin' wild
Like salamanders swimmin' in southwest creeks
Feelin' incomplete, another story livin' [Incomprehensible]
You had it, now you lost it wasn't worth it look what it costed
Yo life young nigga

Didn't go out without a fight behind the gun trigger
You better think fast or get swept off yo feet
Nigga it hurts to see these drugs deteriorate
The minds of knuckleheads that want to be base heads
Don't say I didn't tell you 'cause you gonna see in the future
I hope I don't have to shoot you if you switch
Went from hardcore to beggin' like a bitch
Revolutions good to bad hoods to rags, real niggas to fags
What's the news? But I refuse to lose

Sufferin' from a severe case of inner city blues
I ain't got no clues to which directions I need to choose
This opportunity to gain is all I got to lose
Now I just can't settle for these streets shawty I refuse

Well I woke up this mornin' with the same frustration
From situations like these got a call about some work
From one of them temporary agencies
No high school diploma or any college degrees
I can't enlist but they'll draft me if there's a war overseas
Oh please, of course I can slice some Oz's
But see I'm one of those aspirin MC's
And uh bills are due so at times I'm doubtful and everyone disagrees
But I'd rather struggle on my feet than to live on my knees

So my uniform tight, workin' all night at Mickey D's
Got about 90 dollars and some change after the government
Get they fees, these minimum wages ain't enough to feed my babies
Purposely these limitations on black folks' opportunities
So I quit 'cause I'm tired of being one of those overworked
Underpaid employees stop carin' at all went on
And did a few small burglaries

It seems like my faith done turned into forgotten memories
And I ain't gettin' away with nothing because I know He always sees
But see right now I need to see how I can get this here dope sold
I done stuffed in my pocket as many rocks as it can hold
They gonna get high so I'm a get my money even though it's freezin' cold
Now how many times you done heard this story told?
Believe it or not, it's some very intelligent junkies
But dependencies is eatin' away at they souls like disease

Anyone can turn into somebody who covets and envies
Unequal economics can easily make you some enemies
And the crime rate never drops so the cops ride around in threes
I knew he would have killed me if I did anything but freeze
They found the rest of the dope in some nearby shrubberies
In a dim lit room being questioned by these authorities
And they gave me some time in correctional facilities
And now my woman's gotta take on a man's responsibilities

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