Run 4 Cover - Lyrics - Tical 2000 Judgementday - Method Man

Title: Run 4 Cover
Album: Tical 2000 Judgementday
Artist: Method Man
Composer(s): Patrick Charles, Clifford Smith, Dennis Coles, Reggie Noble, Robert Diggs

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

Lyric:
Yo, yo, enta, enta
Enta, enta

It's the synical lyrical rap individual
On my death bed I spit sick flows that's critical
I'm not a fan of this, I'm a mic vandalist
Thug therapist my clan's too original
My slang bang to wax, words that's visual
Too digital for y'all common street criminals
Who wanna come test, lick the sweat from my genitals?
We can get off the mic, and get a little physical

I was born a rock, since they cut my umbilical
Cord, I swing swords behold the prolifical
Rhyme writer, hip-hop provider prize fighter
Live wire, quick to set the mic on fire
I speak legalized dope, hit man for hire
I quote murderous notes dope rhyme supplier
Hang glide on the mic like a stunt driver
And I won't stop rockin' till I retire

When it comes to the darts, I throw 'em, flame thrower
Blow your section eight home to your pay phone up
Grass smoker, in the cut for the Lawnmower
I water, I ride the wale that ate, Jonah
Over, your faced wit the black cape over
You woke up four Gorillas wit a makeover
Packin' a punch asthma pump takeover
My crew boards, and the whole plane lays over

Yo, yo you can't talk wit the tape over
Pass the pussy, get out, date's over
Back to your gray Nova that's way slower
Redline to five on the highway shoulder
Enemies say, "Doc the one to play closer"
This baboon loose off the chain choker
Hardcore, Jacore, I hate poker
But y'all spread when my bullet's daytona

Comin', comin' through duck
Run 4 cover
Comin', comin' through duck
Run 4 cover
Comin', comin' through duck
Run 4 cover
Comin', comin' through duck
Run 4 cover

Comin', comin' through duck
Run 4 cover
Comin', comin' through duck
Run 4 cover
Comin', comin' through duck
Run 4 cover
Comin', comin' through duck
Run 4 cover

Yo, this ain't ya granddaddy music, it's hip-hop
Comin' through your woofer like a mute kit
Hundred thousand watts on some bullshit
I blackout eclipse wit the semi bust a full clip, clap out
Touch one if any, that's my complexin' conquest
Now tell that shit to the court, I plead no contest
From none of y'all, please

I potty train pussy ass rugrat for free
Keep the cake for the family and off Sarah Lee
That's how we do, powerful, movin' on ya left
Mista who Meth, black gorilla beatin' on his chest
I suggest, you pay yo' debt or Protect Ya Neck
I suggest, you wear a vest makin' all them threats
Here's a chin check that cash and splash niggas in half
Smash rappers like hash, soke 'em down to ashes
At last it's the crew that party crashes the masses
Madness wildin' out like special ed classes

Straight out the gate, meet Tony
Don of all dons, behind New York King Tut wit one arm
Been at nutcrunch last cinnamon toast wit power rose
Whips dirty dustin' my bitch, fuck Parole
Peace shout he's Wallee Timb's, wild out
We in the spot guns go off though
Came out his mask it was Ollie North
Oh shit, what up what up Ghost
Congratulations on your new flick
Burn it dead who max the most

Word up you got the most Clarks
Brave hearts spin this
For under come down in the pale he need minutes
Told y'all before I kick doors off the hinges
Ain't no cooler and there ain't no Guiness
Money like Barry Blue, Keanu Reeves wit bench slippers
Play the PGA Tour wit Jack Nicklaus
Statues of Mary, gas that bust mercury
Sit through the biggest storm and hand out turkey

That's the way I like it
Pussy ass rusty ass niggas
07103, 10304

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f8a9ddb33c38031c4c6933e8fd2b936e

U Got A Problem? - Lyrics - Back For The First Time - Ludacris

Title: U Got A Problem?
Album: Back For The First Time
Artist: Ludacris
Composer(s): Christopher Bridges, Shondrae Crawford

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

Lyric:
Yeah come see this nigga
Come see this ol' light skinned mothafucka
I seen him and I'm addicted
Disturbin' tha peace is the click
Please tell these fake ass niggas who you are

I be dat nigga named Luda'
Alert alert it's the atllien intruder
College park water boy, spittin' in tha c-cooler
I jam till they deaf, they call me slick dick da ruler
Women indeed, keep ya eyes closed
'Bow blows, come out dem clothes hoe
Low pros, low bows, watch out for the po-po
And I chose, to be dat numba one contender, southern offender
Fuckin' up ya whole agenda

When I walk you try to run
When I run you try to hide
You skated the snap of my finger
Call me golden gley
Its you and I, do or die, who am I?
I got a pocket full of family stones, cats think I'm sly

Oh why try, you one of dem niggaz that like to cheat death
And I'm one of dem niggaz that rip up excursions
Til there is no seats left
You shit out wheat chex and fart out deep breaths
While we toss darts at the bottom of y'all V-necks

Who?
Dat nigga cries?
Oh dat nigga is aight
Dat nigga can't fuck wit me thou
Let me get on da mic
Nigga, who da fuck are you nigga

I be dat nigga bronze bridges
Playaz wanna ball or go on strike 'cause of my pitches
They think I want they bitches
But I don't want no pigeons
Yet pigeons can scrub my dishes
And y'all don't want no scrubs till y'all pull out y'all extensions

Y'all in school detention that'll Neva come out
Man I'll catch yo Achilles tendon and put a sock in yo mouth
'Cause we da shit in the south, they know what I'm talkin' 'bout
You see we Jack and we Daniels, y'all Earl and Ralph
4-ize twirl it out, lick it dry and tend it to flames
Not even Joshua can come to war wit dis games

These bitch niggaz is lame and come down wit da reigns
You all wet behind da ears but its a drought in ya brain
And dats tha simple and plain man
Three W dot shh
(Man dat dude lauder's got some hotter than hot shh)
Well sh-sh-shut da fuck up
Before you get cu-cu-cut-cut da fuck up

Hold on man
Hold on lil buddy
Y'all talkin' 'bout shorty man
Shorty up at da radio station man?
Shorty be poppin' man?
Man, let the name be known
Who y'all talkin' 'bout

I be dat nigga dat lova lova
I'm nastier than thinkin' about yo' parents sex each other
No glove, no love, betta tell yo dick to run for cover
So when lightening strikes, you can be safe on a few rubbers
If you know what I mean
Not everybody is Mr and Mrs. Clean
Some get burnt like Freddie Kruger, sweat dreams
Girls backin' dey ass up now they 400 degrees ha

Hot girl, tryin' to give to niggaz up on da block girl
Have you screamin' "Stop girl"
I rock worlds with my 9 inch louieville slugga
Still wonder why they call me lova lova
Self Explainatruim
Ass Valedictorian
I bring 'em back to da future like a '85 Delirium

Da Luda drug emporium
On da counter prescription
You like my diction
And my doctor nurse convention
I put da stethoscope quite close to yo tittie
Have yo butt checks red man like Uncle Quilly

See me, see me
Ha ha ha
C E O
D T P
Infamous 2-0
Fate Forsta
4-ize-zy
Shondrez-zy on da beat
Playa Circle to ya boy
College park nigga
Virgo nigga, what wha
Ahh ahh ahh

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529e7cf505aa5d56bcd0747a52e9e578

Z - Imaginary Player - Lyrics - Vol. 1: In My Lifetime - Jay

Title: Z - Imaginary Player
Album: Vol. 1: In My Lifetime
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Angela Winbush, Davin Vanderpool, Rene Moore, Sean Carter

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

Lyric:
Yeah, I mean like
I gotta be like the pioneer to this shit, you know
I was popping that Cristal
When all y'all niggaz thought it was beer and shit, you know
Wearing that platinum shit
When all y'all chicks thought it was silver and shit
I got to be the pioneer of this shit
Bottom line
I'm going to show you how to do it, check it

I spit that other shit, that's the nice motherfucker shit
Fed time follow me around, deep cover shit nigga
You beer money, I'm all year money
I'm popping, you ain't got to count it, it's all there money
I never change money 'cause niggas got strange money
Knocked up, marked up, fucked up in the game money
I got bail money, XXL money
You got flash now, one time we'll reveal money

I spit the hottest shit, you need it I got it shit
That down South Master P, 'bout It 'bout it shit
I got blood money, straight up thug money
That brown paper bag under your mattress drug money
You got show dough, little to no dough
Sell a bunch of records and you still owe dough
I got 900 and 96 plus 4 more dough
You crazy, you full gazy, and loco with dough papo

Imaginary players
Imaginary players
Imaginary players
Imaginary players

And now you got these young cats acting like they slung cats
All in they dumb rap, talking about how they funds stack
When I see 'em in the street, I don't see none of that
Bad playboy, where the fuck is the Hummer at?
Where is all the ice with all the platinum under that?
Those ain't Rolex diamonds, what the fuck you done to that?
Y'all rapping-ass niggas, y'all funny to me
You're selling records, being you but still you want to be me

I guess for every buck you make it's like a hundred for me
And still you running around thinking you got something on me
But I done did it and y'all want to take my flow, and run with it
That's cool, I was the first one with it
Original, Jiggas the future flow digital
Still busting a gat when she gets critical
Sit it down, I don't want y'all to get it confused
I rip it down, like I ain't got nothing to lose

Imaginary players
Imaginary players
Imaginary players
Imaginary players

Groupies I leave them all fucked, niggas, all struck
Your single was 99 cents, mines was 4 bucks
Last year, when niggas thought it was all up
But this year I've done it again, Jigga! What the fuck?
Nigga stop whining, Jigga, still shining
Niggas kept complaining so I copped more diamonds
Rock more Versace, ain't nothing sweet
I still throw tree in your body, fleeing the party

Y'all can't go with me, nope, flow with me
Bet 50, not dollars either I brought some dough with me
I flow like the 5 series, in various areas
And blow holes in your weak niggas theories
It's funny how one verse can fuck up the game
You bought a 4.0 you better get your change
Ain't no platinum in those Cartiers, switch your frame
Ain't no manicures on board, then switch your plane

Imaginary players
Imaginary players
Imaginary players
Imaginary players

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7dae95622c371a9ad91fc29aa2fcd302

Come And Get Me - Lyrics - Shock Value - Timbaland

Title: Come And Get Me
Album: Shock Value
Artist: Timbaland
Composer(s): Marvin Bernard, Timothy Clayton, Floyd Nathaniel Hills, Curtis Jackson, Tim Mosley

Lyric:
Yeah, yeah
It's Tim-Unit ****, yeah
You know I like how I sound on that ****

****, your time is up, I ain't come to catch you
I knew you **** was dumb but how dumb is you
Thinkin' you could see the king when you unofficial
You don't wanna go to war 'cause I launch these missiles

I'm a "Ride or Die ****", I be tearin' **** up
We ain't like them other crews, so don't preparin' to us
All the **** love a **** that be backin' it up
But me, I love money, I be stackin' it up

From my band wagon puller, they hop on board
They hop right on mine, they hop right off yours
I get respect homie all across the board
I get to call a "Milla" track without an award

Ever wanna test a ****, then come see me
In the street, I hold my ground like on concrete
I know **** ain't sweet, so the **** get deep
I'm rich, I can pay to have you six feet deep, ****

I give it to whoever want it
If you want it come see me
You know where I'm at if you want it
If you want it come get me

I give it to whoever want it
If you want it come see me
You know where I'm at if you want it
If you want it come get me

****, you violate, I regulate rata tat tat
Bigger **** to fit in that **** **** ****
Run in the bulls eye, form on your back
Hard to miss with a full **** in the ****

I got ****! ****! Eye low, reload!
Caught a **** quick, yeah, my **** can't leave it
Tough guy ****, **** that's what I see through
You like a three course meal, **** I eat you

You fool and I'm in the mood
So fun I let the hammer fly
**** you could duck, run for cover or ****
Your choice, you choose, I ****, you move, evacuate shot

You been ****, ****, your blood on the street
You rough **** creek, you can hardly speak
You startin' to get weak, your eyes close your life, flash!
Your heart's slow, your heart stop your ****, then you **** it!

I give it to whoever want it
If you want it come see me
You know where I'm at if you want it
If you want it come get me

I give it to whoever want it
If you want it come see me
You know where I'm at if you want it
If you want it come get me

I'm like Nicolas Cage, yeah, it's the Ghost Rider
****, yeah, I like my toast lighter
Costa Rica to Brazil, I got my **** in the Lear
While your **** ball headed like Britney Spears

I'm in the projects, gettin' **** and piff money
Two more flips that's in and a cold Smith money
**** a G 4 I'm in a G 500
G 450, G 550

That's airplane talk, I'm the aviator man
Baby **** ****, your baby out your hand
Spaghetti and cold brown mixed got me ****
This whole talk about she know, **** on a empty stomach

Buy out the mall and hugged the block
A hundred "Dall" wood green and a phantom drop
Then I cruise in the club, got my **** in the club
Pay a belt and buck, now I **** in the club, yeah ****

I give it to whoever want it
If you want it come see me
You know where I'm at if you want it
If you want it come get me

I give it to whoever want it
If you want it come see me
You know where I'm at if you want it
If you want it come get me

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e197ef2c7bc4d97748fdde4d4d27ac4f

Touchdown - Lyrics - T.I. vs. T.I.P - T.I.

Title: Touchdown
Album: T.I. vs. T.I.P
Artist: T.I.
Composer(s): Clifford Harris, Marshall Mathers

Lyric:
When we touchdown
There's no need to ask me, okay
Everybody know them Southern boys love that bass
Atlanta go bananas, Alabama, Louisiana
Mississippi, Tenekeys, every muthafuckin' state

When we touchdown
Go right from the plane to the range
When we touchdown
On the private plane, gettin' brain

Till we touchdown
There ain't no way to keep 'em quiet
With T.I. and Shady, baby, we 'bout to move inside a ride
When we touchdown

When we get in town you know how we getting down
Pull a cling and hop on out, snatch all the freaks then walk on out
I'm livin', what they talkin' 'bout? I'm shinin' if it dark or not
That one hundred DX double R, you'll find that in the parkin' lot

You barkin' up the wrong tree, I do this shit for Zone 3
4, 5 and 6 as well as 1, Atlanta, I'm forever, son
Still be on whatever coast, grindin', blowin' heavy smoke
Him you better tell 'em 'fore, won't hesitate to let him go

They know I put that green light on them haters
Keep on tryin' me, I'll put that beam right on ya tater
Now you don't wanna see T.I.P. be irate
Just try to keep him in a cage but some how he keep escapin'

That's why I be on vacation, Virgin Island I be takin'
Private planes out to Spain, now keep on flyin', I ain't fakin'
The money ain't a thing, think I'm lyin', you're mistaken
You can find long lines and all kinds of bitches your way

And when we touchdown
There's no need to ask me, okay
Everybody know them Southern boys love that bass
Atlanta go bananas, Alabama, Louisiana
Mississippi, Tenekeys, every muthafuckin' state

When we touchdown
Go right from the plane to the range
When we touchdown
On the private plane, gettin' brain

Till we touchdown
There ain't no way to keep 'em quiet
With T.I. and Shady, baby, we 'bout to move inside a ride
When we touchdown

Welcome to the Midwest, yes
Where them Detroit players ball like you have no idea, the boy is here
Got the whole place lookin' like its candy painted, ain't it?
Like we left the kids at home and just let 'em loose with the crayons

Fuck, I just hit a jogger, people lookin' like frogger
They Hoppin' out the way whenever they see Marshall's car comin'
The kids painted my windows with black, permanent marker
And left the rest of the car color cover like swirl pops

And I got the bass thumpin' but I'm bound to bump into something
Kids are flyin' through the air, lookin' like they're crumpin'
The way they're tumbling I gotta do something
But soon as I hit the car wash to get the tar off
Then it's right back at it tomorrow

They're like dead, this is in so get with the trend
This is for the pimps listenin' to me, nail polish on the rims
And now it's custom chrome but I gotta go do a show
So go on with your bad self, just have it back to normal

When I touch down
There's no need to ask me, okay
Everybody know them Southern boys love that bass
Atlanta go bananas, Alabama, Louisiana
Mississippi, Tenekeys, every muthafuckin' state

When we touchdown
Go right from the plane to the range
When we touchdown
On the private plane, gettin' brain

Till we touchdown
There ain't no way to keep 'em quiet
With T.I. and Shady, baby, we 'bout to move inside a ride
When we touchdown

From my arrival until my departure
Guarantee I put this D I C K in somebody daughter, aye
I still have my way with the ladies across the water
Flew to Paris from Haiti, just some shit that I thought of

It's ironic kind of shit that we buy, man
Make us psychotical threat to corporate America
Then why they runnin' from me?

How could they be so ignorant? Look at what hip hop den done
It's allowed us to run a business, legimitated our monies
Got us out the ghettos and relocated out mommies
I made it all the way here, ain't no way you takin' it from me

So excuse me, Oprah, honey, I'm sorry, really I promise
But niggas, bitches and hoes do exist, I'm just bein' honest
But that am I bein' punished, why are you so astonished?
Now I ain't got a degree, just intelligence in abundance

So you ain't gotta like me, I know millions of folks who love me
You can see it how they yellin' and screamin and waitin' for me

When I touchdown
There's no need to ask me, okay
Everybody know them Southern boys love that bass
Atlanta go bananas, Alabama, Louisiana
Mississippi, Tenekeys, every muthafuckin' state

When we touchdown
Go right from the plane to the range
When we touchdown
On the private plane, gettin' brain

Till we touchdown
There ain't no way to keep 'em quiet
With T.I. and Shady, baby, we 'bout to move inside a ride
When we touchdown

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801a81f8780d790ec70d30d0ece20d8f

Children'S Story - Lyrics - Mos Def

Title: Children'S Story
Artist: Mos Def
Composer(s): Shawn Jones, Dante Smith

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

Lyric:
And then Jackie Chan just started kickin' 'em
Like pow, pow, pow
Wha?
Alright y'all, alright y'all enough of that
It's time to go to bed y'all
Time to go to bed , I don't wanna hear that
You know what time it is, you know what time it is
Uncle Mos?
Yes
Would you read us a bedtime story please?
Okay, okay, y'all tucked in?
Yes
Here we go

Once upon a time not long ago
When people wore Adidas and lived life slow
When laws were stern and justice stood
And people was behavin' like Hip-Hop was good
There lived a little boy who was misled
By a little shatan and this is what he said
"Me and you kid we gonna make some cash
Jackin' old beats and makin' the dash"
They jacked the beats, money came wit' ease
But son, he couldn't stop, it's like he had a disease
He jacked another and another, Michael Jackson, Stevie Wonder
Set some R&B over the track for 'Deep Cover'

The kid got wild startin' actin' erratic
He said, "Yo, that presidential I gotta have it"
With liquor in his belly son, he made up the track
But little did he know that his joints was wack
The shiny A&R said, "Great new hit G!
Whenever you need a loop, yo come get me"
The kid got amped and he starts to figure
"I'm a get dough like all-a these otha niggaz!"
So, he's in the studio workin' 'round the clock
For Pop radio, jacked the beat to 'Planet Rock'

Was out in the street when he met this sister
Who couldn't sing for shh but the mix wit' her sister
Hooked up the track and in excitation
He decided he'd head for the radio station
But he was runnin' and he made a left
Was skeezin' at top speed and ran into Mos Def

I slowed the young man down and I started "Yo money
Yo, why you sellin' lies to our wives and children?"
He ran upstairs up to the top floor
Opened up the door then guess what he saw? Who?
Jane the chickenhead radio host
Who be yappin' 'bout beef between east and west coast
He said, "This one's a bullet, you gotta give it run!"
The chicken said, "Thanks" and spanked it number1
He went outside, was gettin' props all over
Then he dipped into his ride, the 4-point rover

Raced up the block doin' 83
Some cats with Hennessey saw him at a RED
He winked his eye like his star status mattered
They rat-a-tat-tatted to make his blood splatter
"You rockin' crazy ice and all you do is cling static
And rollin' down to Brooklyn late night is problematic"
His eyes was bloody red, he hung on every word they said
They told the kid, "Back down, that playa shit is dead"
Deep in his heart, he knew he was gone
But he grabbed his 45 and decide to blaze on

Wit' shades on founded had him astounded an'
Before long, the young man got surrounded
Those grabbed the guns, so goes the glory
And that is the way I got ta end this story
He was out chasin' cream and the American dream
Tryin' to pretend the ends justify the means
This ain't funny so don't you dare laugh
It's just what comes to pass when you sell your ass
Life is more than what your hands can grasp
Good night

Knock 'em out the box Mos, knock 'em out Mos
Knock 'em out the box Mos, knock 'em out Mos
Knock 'em out the box Mos, knock 'em out Mos
Knock 'em out the box Mos, knock 'em out Mos
Knock 'em out the box Mos, knock 'em out Mos
Knock 'em out the box Mos, knock 'em out Mos
Knock 'em out

Another, Mos Def, Black Star movement
Presentation, crumbs

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afe82dd470233fba78326f302b315bf8

Stuck Up - Lyrics - Ruff Ryder's First Lady - Eve

Title: Stuck Up
Album: Ruff Ryder's First Lady
Artist: Eve
Composer(s): Grant Cantres, Eve Jeffers, Darrin Dean, Kasseem Dean

Lyric:
Yo Eve, where you at man?
I'm tired of talkin' to this answerin' machine shit
I seen you earlier but you know you was with them
Ruff Ryder niggas, I ain't really fuckin' with it like that shit

Yo, yo nigga if you shy, move on
Only room for a thug that can hold on
Keep me right in the night, early in the morn
I need a dog that can buy it if the pressure's on

Damn, I hate it when I find out that you nigga's soft
Go run and hide for cover when the trouble starts
I like it when he stay and play his part
Ain't scared to put a slug through a nigga's heart

Takes the best of both worlds don't discriminate
East coast, West Coast I don't playa hate
Platinum Daytana on the 6-4 regulator
Big trucks in the hood, black Navigator

If you icy with the price, bring me that ring pa
Might entice me to play nicely, come and get'cha
You got a wifey, tell her nicely I'm in the picture
'Cause I ain't gon' struggle for long and try to get'cha

Come on Eve why you talkin' crazy and all stuck up?
Why you stay tryin' to play me like yo ass is tough one?
My own fuckin' money ain't good enough?
You got a nigga so sick I'm 'bout to throw the fuck up
But I love ya, come on ma, I need ya, understand ma
I got to have ya, Eve, Eve I'd do anythin' to keep ya

Thinkin' you fly on ya next tell cell with accumulated jewels
Smellin' like you on doche, nigga you well
Heard you ain't ready to share
How can I live with you? Icy huh?

Me standin' next to you bare, I heard your pockets knotted
But me I'm schemin' on the cottage
And you a nigga to turn his back on a bitch
Like I ain't got it and forget that Bratty type spoiled

By the best black Caddy escalated '99 edition get that
And what you ain't equal to a shwang and I ain't with that
Not impressed by all of this is mine but we can split that
Give me all of it homeboy this ain't no Kit Kat

Start me off with time couple weeks and I could flip that
What's this 50/50? You ain't breakin' off none, ya stash is limited
I see it insufficient funds, mad 'cause I don't speak
But why should you disrespect?
So until ya pockets swells speak to the back of my neck

Come on Eve why you talkin' crazy and all stuck up?
Why you stay tryin' to play me like yo ass is tough one?
My own fuckin' money ain't good enough?
You got a nigga so sick I'm 'bout to throw the fuck up
But I love ya, come on ma, I need ya, understand ma
I got to have ya, Eve, Eve I'd do anythin' to keep ya

Yo, blonde hair must be an aphrodisiac for cats
Want me, dick's be harder then aluminum bat's
Flaunt me, I don't hang around with average cats
With average whips that spend average stacks

I'm into anythin' but normal things
Celly rings from tha broker at the Stock Exchange I'm hearin' that
Glacier filled chains all the haters starin' at me
Make sure I stay nice and keep ya bitches glarin' at

Wave ya Rollies in the air, yeah last year
Now I'm searchin' for the platinum iced out Cartier
Laid up in da cuts in silk Dolce underwear
Yeah baby, spend that that's all I'm tryin' to hear

It's funny how I used to want the richest niggas
Keep five on deck to see who get the quickest figures
'Cause I only want the pick of the litter for this one
And now because my papers got bigger you gets none

Come on Eve why you talkin' crazy and all stuck up?
Why you stay tryin' to play me like yo ass is tough one?
My own fuckin' money ain't good enough?
You got a nigga so sick I'm 'bout to throw the fuck up
But I love ya, come on ma, I need ya, understand ma
I got to have ya, Eve, Eve I'd do anythin' to keep ya

Come on Eve why you talkin' crazy and all stuck up?
Why you stay tryin' to play me like yo ass is tough one?
My own fuckin' money ain't good enough?
You got a nigga so sick I'm 'bout to throw the fuck up
But I love ya, come on ma, I need ya, understand ma

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Gone Delirious - Lyrics - Presents G.H.E.T.T.O Stories - Swizz Beatz

Title: Gone Delirious
Album: Presents G.H.E.T.T.O Stories
Artist: Swizz Beatz
Composer(s): Kimberly Jones, Kasseem Dean

Lyric:
Uh,the monster,Queen Bee,uh huh
You can't be serious
Fix ya face
We gon' do a song
That you never heard before
We comin' to take this yall
We comin' to rock this yall
(This is the world premiere)
Yall ain't ready for it
But get ready for it
Queen Bee
Talk to 'em
(Yo Swizz where it at baby?)
Talk to 'em
(Where it at?)

Just to prove to y'all niggas that I'm still on top
I told Swizz gimme the guttest shit you got
I'ma give it to you raw weather you like it or not
Like its my last bullet and I only got one shot
Aim straight for the middle like I'm throwing a dart
And when I spit belive its going straight to your heart
I lay my Mack game down nigga straight from the start
Don't take it personal baby, fuck you,pay me

Ain't nothin' but ladys in my dark blue Mercedes
With the Beravas kit, got niggas mad as shit
No, we never sip unless there ice in our drinks
But sometimes we get cold from the ice in our minks
That fly girl persona its a premadonna world
Act like you ain't heard about the Gabana girls
Hollyhood style gettin' love around the globe
You might catch me next season on the cover of Vouge

Y'all niggas done gone delirious
Y'all hoes can't be serious
Queen bee,Swizz Beatz,they scared of us
Y'all know it ain't no comparing us

I make moves in the games
The other chick is a fraud
I'm important like the Queen on the chessboard
Bitches talk slick but they ain't got nothin' for me
When I'm in there territory
Its a whole nother story
We never get stuck sometimes take the long route
When our backs aganist the wall we bang our way out

I'm in the "Gettin' money" mode
Livin' by the street code
'Bout to have every corner of this rap game sewed
Hattin' homies better start,showin' some respect
Or get slaped silly heard my man G Dep,
Tryna holla at the bee and you think ya fly
Impress me dawg throw some money in the sky
Dream team rockin' the yellow and black jerseys
Pull out the black Amali when I'm ridin' with my dirtys
666 thats the mark of the beast
I love God nigga and I'm reppin' the streets

Y'all niggas done gone delirious
Y'all hoes can't be serious
Queen bee,Swizz Beatz,they scared of us
Y'all know it ain't no comparing us

Return of the widow, it's goin' down kiddo
Yall hate me,yeah alright ditto
That's why I keep the 4-5 in the pillow
Tresspassers they gon' die in the cribo
Black Barbie knows how to party
Don't ride but I still cop a Harley
Don't lie who else hot besides me
World wide I crush everybody

And I should'nt have to tell yall who run the city
Even my seven year old neice Rizzy
Knows I gets bizzy
You know the name Lil' Kim high class
Shake it Shorty with ya high priced ass, priced ass
Tryin' to be a billionare I got things to do
I made my mark in this game who the fuck are you
They say I'm pretty like chrome on chrome
And that feeling at the top is like home sweet home

Y'all ain't ready for it
Queen bee,y'all ain't ready for it
Y'all ain't ready for it
Y'all ain't ready for it

Y'all niggas done gone delirious
Y'all hoes can't be serious
Queen bee,Swizz Beatz,they scared of us
Y'all know it ain't no comparing us

Get your hands in the air
Everybody get your hands in the air
Get your hands in the air
Everybody get your hands in the air
Get your hands in the air
Everybody get your hands in the air
Get your hands in the air
Everybody get your hands in the air

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Peel Off - Lyrics - Jin

Title: Peel Off
Artist: Jin
Composer(s): Amaury Michel, Anthony Parino, Jin Auyeung

Lyric:
Go, elite, yeah, Double R uh
Come on, Crafty Plugz, what
Go, what up Amaury, yeah
Go, yeah, let's go, c'mon

Peel off, if you got a system in the trunk
Shoes on your whip and you rollin' up a blunt
Peel off, if you wild, racin' for the dough
And the flag hits the floor and they yellin' out go

Peel off, if you see the pigs on your tail
Knowin' if you get locked that you won't make bail
Peel off, whatchu gonna do?
Peel off

When I, cruise the strip, you know that it's me
Split the crowd in half like Moses did to the seas
0 to 60 in 4 flat, make you look inferior
Funny how my throwback matches the interior

I ain't scared of ya, c'mon let's be serious
Can't catch me I'm, "2 Fast 2 Furious, Part Two"
Bullshit walks and cash talks, what's that sound
My low pros burnin' up the asphalt

Drop top Spyder in the summer I'm good
Lost your words soon as you look under the hood
Twin cam turbo, your man's in shock
Only words comin' out your mouth, damn that's hot

Got a spoiler on the back every time I skate off
You thinkin' it's a jet that's about to take off
Cash and pink slips, whole enchilada
Soon as the lights turn green, you know that you gotta

Peel off, if you got a system in the trunk
Shoes on your whip and you rollin' up a blunt
Peel off, if you wild, racin' for the dough
And the flag hits the floor and they yellin' out go

Peel off, if you see the pigs on your tail
Knowin' if you get locked that you won't make bail
Peel off, whatchu gonna do?
Peel off

I got a, need for speed, I'm freezin' up time
Wanna, race the kid, throw your keys on the line
I'm switchin' gears, never brake for the curb
Cross the finish line twice before you make it to third

With a fly ass shorty in the passenger side
One hand on the wheel, one hand on her thigh
Y'all can't see me, peekin' through the tinted windows
Just to get a glimpse of Francine Dee

Let the, haters talk, I've been called rumors
See me on the cover of the Import Tuner
Lookin' at the skyline, I cocked for the race
Even got an Evo 8 that ain't dropped in the States

This ain't for no amateurs
Every time I roll through hot imports nights it's lights, cameras
Action, you know who's the headline
Do a buck sixty every time I redline

Peel off, if you got a system in the trunk
Shoes on your whip and you rollin' up a blunt
Peel off, if you wild, racin' for the dough
And the flag hits the floor and they yellin' out go

Peel off, if you see the pigs on your tail
Knowin' if you get locked that you won't make bail
Peel off, whatchu gonna do?
Peel off

Ain't a damn thing stock, you see the difference is
I'm a Pioneer just like your system is
Two screens on the dash, you choose the best view
Wireless control for the PS2

Skip the bullshit, and the foolishness too
They say we disturbin' tha peace like Ludacris crew
You want war? I'm settlin' the score
No lookin' back now put the pedal to the floor

Peel off, if you got a system in the trunk
Shoes on your whip and you rollin' up a blunt
Peel off, if you wild, racin' for the dough
And the flag hits the floor and they yellin' out go

Peel off, if you see the pigs on your tail
Knowin' if you get locked that you won't make bail
Peel off, whatchu gonna do?
Peel off

Peel off, if you got a system in the trunk
Shoes on your whip and you rollin' up a blunt
Peel off, if you wild, racin' for the dough
And the flag hits the floor and they yellin' out go

Peel off, if you see the pigs on your tail
Knowin' if you get locked that you won't make bail
Peel off, whatchu gonna do?
Peel off

All my people in the place to be, uh
Let me hear you say
Uh, if you rockin' with me
Let me hear you say
Uh, Double R, uh yeah
Haha, oh c'mon
You ain't ready, I run these streets

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