Aww S***! - Lyrics - Kelis Was Here - Kelis

Title: Aww S***!
Album: Kelis Was Here
Artist: Kelis
Composer(s): Shondrae L Crawford, Shanell Woodgett, Tamika Faye Means

Lyric:
Lookin' too fly walkin' to the bar
Niggas wanna stop, askin' who I are
Hands on my waist tryna find out
If I'm gonna flip off of one drink
And can he get down

I'm a rock hip-hop pop star
You check out the doe and the fast car
Never run from nothin' when I come through
Roll with the realest that can take out your whole crew

(Hicky-hicky-hicky)
Aww shit!
(Hicky-hicky-hicky)
Aww shit!
(Hicky-hicky-hicky)
Aww shit!
I can make a whole song talk shit!

(Hicky-hicky-hicky)
Aww shit!
(Hicky-hicky-hicky)
Aww shit!
(Hicky-hicky-hicky)
Aww shit!
I can make a whole song talk shit!

I don't like to dance to a slow song
You're too close and I can't get my groove on
Drop a beat and let a girl feel somethin'
I'm so gutter, watch my two-step do somethin'

Tippy-toes tip and make a mean walk
I ain't tryna listen to your big talk
High off my drink for the third time
Boy, come and get it
Watch me make these niggas fall in line

(Hicky-hicky-hicky)
Aww shit!
(Hicky-hicky-hicky)
Aww shit!
(Hicky-hicky-hicky)
Aww shit!
I can make a whole song talk shit!

(Hicky-hicky-hicky)
Aww shit!
(Hicky-hicky-hicky)
Aww shit!
(Hicky-hicky-hicky)
Aww shit!
I can make a whole song talk shit!

?Bout to head to the hills ?fore I pass out
Get my coat from the check ?fore I spaz out
Pull my whip to the front and I jump in
Catch a look comin' from the niggas in the black Benz

Red light and now they tryna hop in
(Remember when I was in school, I was your boyfriend?)
Got the tint so we never entertain those
Hungry-ass groupies on the phone like they got hoes

(Hicky-hicky-hicky)
Aww shit!
(Hicky-hicky-hicky)
Aww shit!
(Hicky-hicky-hicky)
Aww shit!
I can make a whole song talk shit!

(Hicky-hicky-hicky)
Aww shit!
(Hicky-hicky-hicky)
Aww shit!
(Hicky-hicky-hicky)
Aww shit!
I can make a whole song talk shit!

Now I'm feelin' mmm, mmm good
Eyes filled up with the bloodshots
Look like a lay-up with the lights out
Now he's tryna get a lick but I'm all gone

Keep, keep talkin'
Keep, keep talkin'
Keep, keep talkin'
Keep, keep talkin'

Who's this man who's not star?
Yet you wondering who I are
On track with rock hip-hop star, the pop star
Who the man behind hot bars?
Smoke, I'm soon to be popular

Now, where he from?
Is it my city, your city?
All you need to know, I come from a dope city
Never shoot the boys, still keep the dope Bentley
Taste to the kush with a chase of the Henny

And when I'm lookin' for a freak, really picky-picky
And if it smell icky, tell her pull up her Vickie's
But if it smell alright, I might do the licky-licky
Let you suck on my neck but, please, no hicky-hickies

(Hicky-hicky-hicky)
Aww shit!
(Hicky-hicky-hicky)
Aww shit!
(Hicky-hicky-hicky)
Aww shit!
I can make a whole song talk shit!

(Hicky-hicky-hicky)
Aww shit!
(Hicky-hicky-hicky)
Aww shit!
(Hicky-hicky-hicky)
Aww shit!
I can make a whole song talk shit!

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8264a2c341be0b17c987b68f916f5ce4

Z - Song Cry - Lyrics - The Blueprint - Jay

Title: Z - Song Cry
Album: The Blueprint
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Shawn Carter, R Johnson, Douglas Gibbs, Justin Smith

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

Lyric:
Get you all impossibly dirty
Get you all impossibly dirty
Sounds like a love song
Sounds like a love song

The most incredible baby
Uhh, mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm
Yeah, yeah, uhh

I can't see 'em comin' down my eyes
So I gotta make the song cry
I can't see 'em comin' down my eyes
So I gotta make the song cry

Good dudes, I know you love me like cooked food
Even though a nigga gotta move like a crook move
We was together on the block since we lunch
We shoulda been together havin' 4 seasons brunch

We used to use umbrellas to face the bad weather
So now we travel first class to change the forecast
Never in bunches, just me and you
I loved your point of view 'cause you held no punches

Still I left you for months on end
It's been months since I checked back in
Well, somewhere in a small town, somewhere lockin' a mall down
Woodgrain, four and change, armor all'd down

I can understand why you want a divorce now
Though I can't let you know it, pride won't let me show it
Pretend to be heroic, that's just one to grow with
But deep inside a nigga so sick

I can't see 'em comin' down my eyes
So I gotta make the song cry
I can't see 'em comin' down my eyes
So I gotta let the song cry

I can't see it comin' down my eyes
So I gotta make the song cry
I can't see it comin' down my eyes
So I gotta make the song cry

On repeat, the CD of Big's, "Me and my bitch"
Watchin' Bonnie and Clyde, pretendin' to be that shit
Empty gun in your hand sayin', "Let me see that clip"
Shoppin' sprees, pull out your visa quick

A nigga had very bad credit, you helped me lease that whip
You helped me get the keys to that V dot 6
We was so happy poor but when we got rich
That's when our signals got crossed, and we got flipped

Rather mine, I don't know what made me leave that shit
Made me speed that quick, let me see, that's it
It was the cheese helped them bitches get amnesia quick
I used to cut up they buddies, now they sayin' they love me

Used to tell they friends I was ugly and wouldn't touch me
Then I showed up in that dubbed out buggy
And then they got fussy and they don't remember that
And I don't remember you

I can't see it comin' down my eyes
So I gotta make the song cry
I can't see it comin' down my eyes
So I gotta make the song cry

Yeah, I seen 'em comin' down your eyes
But I gotta make the song cry
I can't see it comin' down my eyes
So I gotta make the song cry

A face of stone, was shocked on the other end of the phone
Word back home is that you had a special friend
So what was oh so special then?
You have given away without gettin' at me

That's your fault, how many times you forgiven me?
How was I to know that you was plain sick of me?
I know the way a nigga livin' was whack
But you don't get a nigga back like that

Shit I'm a man with pride, you don't do shit like that
You don't just pick up and leave and leave me sick like that
You don't throw away what we had, just like that
I was just fuckin' them girls, I was gon' get right back

They say you can't turn a bad girl good
But once a good girl's goin' bad, she's gone forever
And more forever
Shit I gotta live with the fact I did you wrong forever

I can't see 'em comin' down my eyes
So I gotta make the song cry
I can't see 'em comin' down my eyes
So I gotta let the song cry

I know, I seen 'em comin' down your eyes
But I gotta make the song cry
I can't see 'em comin' down my eyes
So I gotta make the song cry

It's fucked up girl

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7da1123c60821fa37e609bca673b4990

Bitches Ain'T Shit - Lyrics - Supersunnyspeedgraphic - The LP - Ben Folds

Title: Bitches Ain'T Shit
Album: Supersunnyspeedgraphic - The LP
Artist: Ben Folds
Composer(s): Tenaia Sanders, Jonathan H Smith, Dajuan L Walker, Colin Wolfe, Delmar Arnaud, Ricardo Brown, Cordozar Broadus, Nathaniel D Hale, Tracy Curry, Andre R Young

Lyric:
Bitches ain't shit, bitches ain't shit

Bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks
Lick on these nuts and suck the dick
Let's get the fuck out after you're done
And I hops in my ride to make a quick run

I used to know a bitch named Eric Wright
We used to roll around and fuck the hoes at night
Tighter than a muthafuckin' gangsta beats
And we was ballin' on the muthafuckin' Compton streets

Peep that shit, got deep and it was on
Number one song after number one song
Long as my muthafuckin' pockets was fat
I didn't give a fuck where the bitch was at

But she was hangin' with a white bitch, doin' the shit she do
Suckin' on his dick just to get a buck or two
And the ends that she got meant nothin'
And now she's suing 'cuz the shit she be doin' ain't shit

Bitches can't hang with the streets
She found herself short
Now she's takin' me to court
That's real conversation for your ass

I once had a bitch named Mandy May
I used to be up in them guts like everyday
The pussy was the bomb, had a nigga on sprung
I was in love like a muthafucka, lickin' the protung

The homies used to tell me that she was no good
But I'm the maniac in black, Mr. Snoop Eastwood
So I figure, niggas wouldn't trip with mine
Guess what? Got gaffled by one time

I'm back in the muthafuckin' county jail
Six months on my chest, now it's time to bail
I gets released on a hot sunny day
My nigga, D.O.C. and my homey, Dr Dre

Scooped in a Coupe, Snoop, we got the news
Your girl was trickin' while you's draped in your county blues
I ain't been out a second
Now I already gotta do some muthafuckin' chin checkin'

Move up the block as we groove down the block
See my girl's house, Dre, pass the glock
Kick in the door and I look on the floor
It's my little cousin Daz and he's fuckin' my hoe

I uncocked my shit
I'm heartbroke but I'm still looked
Man, fuck that bitch, 3, 4

Bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks
Lick on these nuts and suck the dick
Get the fuck out after you're done
And I hops in my ride to make a quick run

I used to know a bitch named Eric Wright
We used to roll around and fuck the hoes at night
Tighter than a muthafuckin' gangsta beats
And we was ballin' on the muthafuckin' Compton streets

Peep that shit, got deep and it was on
Number one song after number one song
Long as my muthafuckin' pockets was fat
I didn't give a fuck where the bitch was at

But she was hangin' with a white bitch, doin' the shit she do
Suckin' on his dick just to get a buck or two
And the ends that she got meant nothin'
But now she's suing cuz the shit she be doin' ain't shit

Bitches can't hang with the streets
She found herself short
So now she's takin' me to court
That's some real conversation for your ass

Bitches can't hang with the streets
Bitches can't hang with the streets
Bitches can't hang with the streets
...

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d1c215964fca10aebdbb29b7b0942968

Club Song - Lyrics - Rest Is History - Jin

Title: Club Song
Album: Rest Is History
Artist: Jin
Composer(s): Jin Auyeung, Justin Smith

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

Lyric:
{Aye yo Jin there's a couple things you gotta have
When you doin' ya club record
I got you don't worry, "Guru play the beat"
I always wanted to say that on a record
You gotta have that, you gotta have a ho, ho, ho
Gotta have two of those, hit 'em with a woo, woo, woo
I like that, thats not bad, come on
oh yea, you know what else you need?
Just blaze}

You can't help but love the way that he flow
When he leave the club ladies be like
"Did you see which way did he go?"
Battle raps are cool but not for radio though
When my single drop, I'm a charge like eighty a show
If you droppin' with me get ready for a pitfall
When my shit hit stores, I'm a charge a bit more
Man, I'm tryin' to corp my toys in two
And stay away from the boys in blue
It's 'cause I'm gettin' dough, the beast are mad at me
These cops are jokes like Police Academy
Too much stress and I ain't blew up yet
Went from the seven train to the Lex, got you upset
I never stress over a chick, I'm slick like Lou Rawls
If I was Papasmurf, you couldn't give me blue balls
Thick dick playa, rip through walls
Balls so large, it couldn't fit in two jars

This my club song 'cause I said club
Yo, this my club song, this my club song
If you wanna blow then you gotta make a club song
This my club song, did he say club?
Yo, this my club song, this my club song
Everybody got one so I had to make a club song

Throw ya hands high reach for the sky
For my piece of the pie, I'm a beast, I ain't speakin' no lie
I'm frequently high, freak a bunch of freaks
In the back of the jeep, Alpines reachin' it's peak
I put them to sleep, ain't no reason to speak
Why I creep, got 'em sayin' that they'll leave in a week
Poof be gone, I won't miss you at all
Now you sayin', I did you wrong, I ain't Dich Whedo
Gotta passion, no for gassin' hoes
Live my life like everyday's a fashion show
I ain't playin', you know what I'm sayin'
I wasn't talkin' 'bout ya I.Q. when I told you, gimme some brains
Fam, you better play your part
'Cause ya girl, she 'bout to have a change of heart
When I come through, find me in the cut like the stitch
Gettin' wild love 'cause I'm Rick James bitch

This my club song 'cause I said club
Yo, this my club song, this my club song
If you wanna blow then you gotta make a club song
This my club song, did he say club?
Yo, this my club song, this my club song
Everybody got one so I had to make a club song

I'm playin' Play Station braggin'
In the back of a gray station wagon
I need ya jeans saggin'
Ain't used to the club, what am I thinkin'?
Only tunnel I been to, is the Holland and the Lincoln
Problem when I'm drinkin', I get tipsy easy
Leave the bartender a hundred dollar tip, believe me
Shorty on the dance floor, down to get inside of it
Said she,"Celibate" I said,"Cool, I only buy a bit"

This my club song 'cause I said club
Yo, this my club song, this my club song
If you wanna blow then you gotta make a club song
This my club song, did he say club?
Yo, this my club song, this my club song
Everybody got one so I had to make a club song

I'm in here pimpin' fam
Why else would I walk up limpin', man?
And me bein' the pimp, I am
Shorty order what you like 'cause it's on me

I'm in here pimpin' fam
Why else would I walk up limpin', man?
And me bein' the pimp, I am
Shorty order what you like 'cause it's on me

This my club song 'cause I said club
Yo, this my club song, this my club song
If you wanna blow then you gotta make a club song
This my club song, did he say club?
Yo, this my club song, this my club song
Everybody got one so I had to make a club song

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999b79f563daa60cf0bfae6427acad7e

Youth Against Fascism (Hate Song) - Lyrics - Sonic Youth

Title: Youth Against Fascism (Hate Song)
Artist: Sonic Youth
Composer(s): Thurston Moore, Steve Shelley, Kim Gordon, Lee Ranaldo

Lyric:
Another can of worms
Another stomach turns
Yeah, your ghetto burns
It's the song I hate
It's the song I hate

You got a stupid man
You got a Ku Klux Klan
Your fuckin' battle plan
It's the song I hate
It's the song I hate

A siege heilin' squirt
You're an impotent jerk
Yeah a fascist twerp
It's the song I hate
It's the song I hate

Black robe and swill
I believe Anita Hill
Judge will rot in hell
It's the song I hate
It's the song I hate

Yeah, a cross on fire
By a Christian liar
A black attack on fire
It's the song I hate
It's the song I hate

Yeah, the President sucks
He's a war pig fuck
His shit is out of luck
It's the song I hate
It's the song I hate

Another Nazi attack
A skinhead is cracked
And my blood is black
It's the song I hate
It's the song I hate

We're banging pots and pans
To make you understand
We gonna bury you man
It's the song I hate
It's the song I hate

I'm a human wreck
A redneck in check
I killed the teacher's pet
It's the song I hate
It's the song I hate

It's the song I hate
It's the song I hate
It's the song I hate
It's the song I hate
It's the song I hate

It's the song I hate
It's the song I hate
It's the song I hate
It's the song I hate
It's the song I hate

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36e8b04a80f6174efb186bbf11846da7

Fight Music - Lyrics - Eminem

Title: Fight Music
Artist: Eminem
Composer(s): Von Carlisle, Ondre Moore, Rufus Johnson, Marshall Mathers, Deshaun Holton, Denaun Porter, Michael Elizondo, Andre Young

Lyric:
This kind of music, use it and you get amped to do shit
Whenever you hear some shit and you can't refuse it
It's just some shit for these kids to trash they rooms with
Just refuse whenever they asked to do shit

The type of shit that you don't have to ask who produced it
You just know that's the new shit
The type of shit that causes mass confusion
And drastic movement of people actin' stupid

I come to every club with intention to do harm
With a prosthetic arm and smellin' like Boone's Farm
Hidin' under tables as soon as I hear alarms
Paranoid thief that'll steal from his own moms

Connivin' Kon, Artis with a bomb
Strapped to my stomach screamin', "Let's get it on"
A lush that love to drink, drunk drivin' a tank
Rollin' over a bank, cops see me and faint

It's drastic, I'm past my limit of coke
I think I'll up my high by slittin' your throat
Push your baby carriage into the street 'til it's mince meat
Your mens been beat the minute I step onto your street
This is fight music

You know why my hands are so numb? No
'Cause my grandmother sucked my dick and I didn't come, oh
Smacked this whore for talkin' crap, bitch
So what if she's handicapped, the bitch said Bizarre couldn't rap

I fuckin' hate you, I'll take your drawers down and rape you
While Dr. Dre videotapes you, hell yeah
Satan done got me on this song
Eatin' a hot dog readin' the Holy Quran while I'm on the John

Tired of wearin' this yellow thong
Take it back Sisqo, you know where it belongs, thong, thong, thong
Now here's a gun, I'll put it in your palm
Now go over there and blow up Dru Hill's arms, fuck your love songs

This kind of music, use it and you get amped to do shit
Whenever you hear some shit and you can't refuse it
It's just some shit for these kids to trash they rooms with
Just refuse whenever they asked to do shit

The type of shit that you don't have to ask who produced it
You just know that's the new shit
The type of shit that causes mass confusion
And drastic movement of people actin' stupid

Just bring who you gon' bring on, who you gon' swing on?
I'm King Kong, guns blow you to kingdom come
Show you machine gun funk
Sixteen m-16's and one pump, click-clack

The snub in my paw, shove it in your jaw
Have you runnin' out this fuckin' club in your drawers
We lovin' the broads, there's nothin' to applaud
But fuck it it's all good, the hood is up in The Source, it's fight music

I'm a nigga that loves scuffles
And won't hesitate to sock you again for swollen knuckles
I'm like that, catch a nigga like bear traps
Blow his head back right in front of the priest sayin', "You hear that?"

I slap your freak, bump you and won't speak
If you step on my feet, you get drowned in your own drink
I suffocated my shrink just for talkin', came back and fucked up
His pallbearers and made 'em drop his coffin, it's fight music

These beads I'm swingin' is stingin' 'em
See all these niggaz? When I step in the club, I'm bringin' 'em
If any nigga lookin' too hard, we Rodney King 'n 'em
Malice green to them and gasolinin' 'em with premium

Light a cigarette, flick it at 'em or spit it at 'em
Hold up a picture of his family and kick it at him
Blast while you right hookin', right when your wife's lookin'
Fuck fight music, bitch this is losin' your life music

If I could capture the rage of today's youth and bottle it
Crush the glass from my bare hands and swallow it
Then spit it back in the faces of you racists
And hypocrites who think the same shit but don't say shit

You Liberace's, Versace's and you Nazis
Watch me 'cause you thinkin' you got me in this hot seat
You motherfuckers wanna judge me 'cause you're not me
You'll never stop me, I'm top speed as you pop me

I came to save these new generations of babies
From parents who failed to raise 'em 'cause they're lazy
To grow to praise me, I'm makin' 'em go crazy
That's how I got this whole nation to embrace me

And you fugazi if you think I'ma admit wrong
I cripple any hypocritic critic I'm sic'd on
And this song is for any kid who gets picked on
A sick song to retaliate to and it's called

This kind of music, use it and you get amped to do shit
Whenever you hear some shit and you can't refuse it
It's just some shit for these kids to trash they rooms with
Just refuse whenever they asked to do shit

The type of shit that you don't have to ask who produced it
You just know that's the new shit
The type of shit that causes mass confusion
And drastic movement of people actin' stupid, it's fight music

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4a8fecda359f37bbd69feb3c455addef

More 2 A Song - Lyrics - And Then There Was X - Dmx

Title: More 2 A Song
Album: And Then There Was X
Artist: Dmx
Composer(s): A Fields, Earl Simmons, Kasseem Dean

Lyric:
C'mon

It's more 2 a song, jewelry and clothes
More to a nigga'z life than, money and hoes
The game is a lot bigger than you, think you know
And if you think you know then I don't think you know

Niggaz walk around frontin', talkin' 'bout jewels
How much you bust tools, y'all niggaz sounds like fools
Who you really think give a fuck how much your watch cost?
How much your watch cost? You 'bout to get your watch lost

If you flashin' it, you must not want it
See, I fuck with real niggaz that done it
You know what time it is, run it
Niggaz got more important shit to deal with
Talkin' about some 4 wheel shit
But my man here, is about to kill shit

Keep playin' niggaz pussy and you will get fucked
Why don't you cop some more ice dog
Then you will get stuck and fucked
Bitch-ass nigga, hit my street
And see what happens to that iceberg when it's hit by heat

It want be a pretty sight, you and your pretty wife
Oh, you must have forgot, dog, this is the shitty life
Ain't a fuckin' thing sweet and ain't nothing fair
Just another nigga dead, don't a motherfucker care

Dog, it's more 2 a song, jewelry and clothes
More to a nigga'z life than money and hoes
The game is a lot bigger than you think you know
And if you think you know then I don't think you know

Dog, it's more 2 a song, jewelry and clothes
More to a nigga'z life than money and hoes
The game is a lot bigger than you think you know
And if you think you know then I don't think you know

Born and raised in the projects and can't forget it
And all that grimy shit niggaz do, I done did it
And I'm still wit it, nigga, I stay in the hood
But when the cats is out, bet the dog, play in the hood

You keep bringin' them fake bitches through
You gon' fuck around and make bitches do
We take bitches too
An if you comin' through my block, it's gon' be the last stop
We blast tops, faggots couldn't make it to the stash box

Big ass rocks, I want that, fuck the blood
All that shit washes off, the next day I'm like, "What?"
Flossin' yo' shit, what I want for yo' shit?
Give a nigga like three bricks to feed the dogs with

'Cause I ain't really gots to shine when they do, I do
For me them niggaz'll hide you, where nobody'll find you
If you eatin' motherfucker then your dogs should be eatin' too
Not just four or five niggaz 'cause you know what the streets'll do

It's more 2 a song, jewelry and clothes
More to a nigga'z life than money and hoes
The game is a lot bigger than you think you know
And if you think you know then I don't think you know

Dog, it's more 2 a song, jewelry and clothes
More to a nigga'z life than money and hoes
The game is a lot bigger than you think you know
And if you think you know then I don't think you know

I will be the voice of the street til I die
'Cause I know if I keep my heart real, I'm gon' fly
Either let me fly or give me death
If you didn't catch it then get it now 'cause it's all that's left

And this will be the last breath provokin' my niggaz
To start choking y'all niggaz, and smokin y'all niggaz
A nigga would never have to say, "X, feed me"
You'll never hear a nigga say, "X is greedy"

Only, "X, believe me, I didn't know it was a setup"
Get up, cocksuckin' motherfucker, shut up
Shut up, [Incomprehensible] fuck you, nigga
From the hood to the wood, fuck you, nigga

This is for my dogs til death do us part
I'm still here 'cause I been here from the start
If I'm ever anywhere, anytime it gets ugly
The dog is aight 'cause I know the streets love me

It's more 2 a song, jewelry and clothes
More to a nigga'z life than money and hoes
The game is a lot bigger than you think you know
And if you think you know then I don't think you know

Dog, it's more 2 a song, jewelry and clothes
More to a nigga'z life than money and hoes
The game is a lot bigger than you think you know
And if you think you know then I don't think you know

Dog, jewelry and clothes
Money and hoes, think you know?
I don't think you know

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269f2fe0d0b5fa20ebb79eaabe27fffc

I Did 'Em Wrong - Lyrics - Phinally Phamous - Lil Wyte

Title: I Did 'Em Wrong
Album: Phinally Phamous
Artist: Lil Wyte
Composer(s): Paul Beauregard, Jordan Houston, Patrick Dhane Lanshaw

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

Lyric:
What's up bitch, what's up ho
What's up bitch, what's up ho
What's up bitch, what's up ho
What's up bitch, what's up ho
What's up, whats up bitch, what's up, ho, ho
What's up, whats up bitch, bitch, what's up, ho, ho
What's up bitch, what's up, ho, ho
What's up bitch, what's up, ho, ho

If you a killa mother fucker, bring your anna to my door
Is this shit you wearing, who am I talking to nobody knows
If you ridin' with someone you know and they turn up this song
You ridin' with a mother fucker, they think I did 'em wrong

If you a killa mother fucker, bring your anna to my door
Is this shit you wearing, who am I talking to nobody knows
If you ridin' with someone you know and they turn up this song
You ridin' with a mother fucker they think I did 'em wrong

Consequences come to those who chose to fuck with Lil Wyte
Not always physical, sometimes mental and emotional right
I'll outsmart you in a fight and come back harder on the mic
There's an inner spiritual demon that possessed me to write
Now that I made all these moves, my music causin' some havoc
This shit is pick me up so what in the fuck did you expect, god-dammit?
As long as the beat keep on rollin', my pocket's gonna get swollen

I know they hate me, they let me know the first time that I told 'em
I got a mind and it's focused, you got some serious issues
I got family, friends and fans and you ain't got no one to miss you
I bet you'll life gettin' hard, you lived your life in a yard
I'm for real, I know there's something when you sold both of your cars
You mad at me 'cuz I made it, I'm only havin' some fun
See me on MTV yellin' out, who gives a fuck where you from
You might be tough with your gun but look for fun in saddham
Doubt me now, I told you Wyte was gon' drop bombs

If you a killa mother fucker, bring your anna to my door
Is this shit you wearing, who am I talking to nobody knows
If you ridin' with someone you know and they turn up this song
You ridin' with a mother fucker, they think I did 'em wrong

If you a killa mother fucker, bring your anna to my door
Is this shit you wearing, who am I talking to nobody knows
If you ridin' with someone you know and they turn up this song
You ridin' with a mother fucker, they think I did 'em wrong

Yeah, it's time to speed on up
We finna go into another mothafuckin'
Galaxy nigga, bass check No.2, yes

Wake up bitch, reality creepin' around the corner
You so fucked up, you couldn't be an organ donor
When I see you, I'm knockin' yo head up off of your shoulders
You gonna be like ah shit, when you feel these tiny boulders
You fuckin' with the wrong one, the HCP cracker main
Slap you man, stab you man, even quick to crack your brain
I ain't got no time for hatin' faggots on the grind
Keep on passin' by cuz I got somethin' you'll never fuckin' find

This is the realest of the real, hope you feelin' it and if you don't
Extend your arm and grab your remote and turn down your radio
Meanwhile, I'm gon' give it raw and write it as nasty as this shit can be
It's easy when you rappin' over the hardest mother fuckin' beats
I am not braggin', and I'm not big headed, nor am I conceded
But I'm proud of myself and the way I [Incomprehensible] succeeded
You wanna bring it to my door or be a bitch and catch me slippin'
Either way it goes this unit, I'm grippin's gonna get you, pimpin'

If you a killa mother fucker, bring your anna to my door
Is this shit you wearing, who am I talking to nobody knows
If you ridin' with someone you know and they turn up this song
You ridin' with a mother fucker, they think I did 'em wrong

If you a killa mother fucker, bring your anna to my door
Is this shit you wearing, who am I talking to nobody knows
If you ridin' with someone you know and they turn up this song
You ridin' with a mother fucker, they think I did 'em wrong

What's up, what's up bitch, what's up ho
What's up, what's up bitch, what's up ho, ho
What's up, what's up bitch, bitch, what's up, what's up ho, ho
What's up bitch, what's up ho, ho
What's up, what's up bitch, what's up ho, ho
What's up bitch, bitch, what's up ho, ho
What's up, what's up bitch, what's up ho
What's up bitch, what's up ho, ho

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386a4fbd97bbeb913a00793abd83874f

Girls - Lyrics - Eminem

Title: Girls
Artist: Eminem
Composer(s): Luis Resto, Marshall Mathers

Lyric:
Hey, yo dawg, I got some shit on my motherfuckin' chest
That I need to get off 'cause if I don't, I'ma fuckin' explode or somethin'
Now look, this is a story about, some little fuckin' girls that I know
It goes like this

It's so easy for me to make enemies any more it's sickening
People are lookin' for an excuse to jump on my shitlist
Stickin' their noses in shit that isn't none of their business
I never asked, cared, gave a fuck or wanted opinions

Now I'm in the position that I don't wanna be in shit
I never had no beef with your corny son of a bitches
But now the shit is broke and you can't do nothin' to fix it
So I'm tellin' you right now motherfuck a Limp Bizkit

Now I'ma be real, B-Real was real
He ain't say shit the whole time me and Whitey was beefin', see he chill
He was cool with the whole situation and kept it neutral
I'd have never involved my crew if it wasn't for Pupils

Peoples, whatever your backpackin' cypherin name is
Had I not opened a magazine and seen what you sayin'
And I'da never involved you but you had to add your two pennies
Now I gotta go grab my shitlist and add some new enemies

Hit the studio and I'll admit, I had a few in me
Fuck it, I roasted you, I ain't mad at you any
But let it be known that song was never released, it leaked
I'da never gave you that much attention intentionally

Then I look on the TV, now look who's mentionin' me
That little fuckin' weasel, DJ Lethal, on MTV
After I gave you props in that song, you on national TV
Talkin' 'bout Everlast is gonna whip my ass when he sees me?

Come on dawg, you was supposed to be on that song
Talkin' 'bout how bad you hate him, now you all on his thong?
What's wrong? You scared and Fred, you said you was dissin' him too
I shoulda knew better than to listen to you

You fuckin' sissy, up on stage
Screamin' how people hate you, they don't hate you
They just think you're corny since Christina played you
And how dare you motherfuckers that try to diss me back
That's a sissy act and don't call me kissin' my ass

'Cause I swear to God this ain't just a song I'm tryin' to pre-warn you
Lethal when I fuckin' see you dawg, I'm swingin' on you
Motherfuckers must think 'cause I'm in trouble with the law
That I won't jaw 'em up my sentence and double it tomorrow

Y'all some girls, y'all are some goddamn girls
Why do you act this way? Why do you act this way, huh?
Why do y'all act like fuckin' sissies you pussies
Keep talkin' shit behind my back, you just some bitches for that

And we all know, we all know, hah
How fuckin' cowards roll, keep rollin', rollin', rollin'
In-fuckin'-dent me's and pretend to be down
But as soon as someone calls you out
You put your tail between your legs and bow down

Now I don't ask nobody to share my beliefs
To be involved in my beefs
I'm a man, I can stand on my feet
So if you don't wanna be in 'em all I ask
Is that you don't open your mouth with an opinion
And I won't put you in 'em

'Cuz I don't ask nobody to share my beliefs
To be involved in my beefs
I'm a man, I can stand on my feet
So if you don't wanna be in 'em all I ask
Is that you don't open your mouth with an opinion
And I won't put you in 'em

Now see if you diss me and I respond, the beef is on
But if I help you sell one record
And I see you at a show, I'll strip you naked
See I was smart, I came back and scooped up my friends

Now I got five dawgs that'll die for me like I'll die for them
I'll fight for them, swing or shoot like I fight for Kim
All of 'em been with me through this fucked up life that I'm in

That goes for all of my dogs, from Royce to Dre
From Xzibit to Mel-Man, 'til I'm hoist away
In my coffin, I'll never soften no matter how often I'm tested
I'll never give a fuck, I won't never be interested

Love me or hate me as much as Fred wants to be hated
I will solemnly stand by every statement I stated
This shit that I been through my pencil never could pencil
But I will never be this gullible ever again no
(Nope)

Next time I'll know when someone's copyin' off me
I'm not bein' cocky, I just know when somebody's mockin' me
I stick up my middle finger, he sticks up his finger
(Hey)

I say, "Fuck Christina", he says, "Fuck Christina" but meaner
So from doin' a song with Method to beggin' to get accepted
I'm peggin' Fred with the bottle of dye that he bleached his head with

And as for Lethal, don't forget what I said
I'm fuckin' you up punk, you're dead, don't think that I'm playin'
And fuck Bizkit 'cause I know you're sayin' fuck D-12
Only not to our face, under your breath to yourselves

You little girls, motherfuckin' females
Why do you act this way? Why do y'all act this way huh?
Why do y'all act like fuckin' sissies you pussies
Keep talkin' shit behind my back, you just some bitches for that

And we all know, now we all know the truth
How fuckin' cowards roll "keep rollin', rollin', rollin"
In-fuckin-dent me's and pretend to be down
But as soon as someone calls you out
You put your tail between your legs and bow down

Now I don't ask nobody to share my beliefs
To be involved in my beefs
I'm a man, I can stand on my feet
So if you don't wanna be in 'em all I ask
Is that you don't open your mouth with an opinion
And I won't put you in 'em

'Cuz I don't ask nobody to share my beliefs
To be involved in my beefs
I'm a man, I can stand on my feet
So if you don't wanna be in 'em all I ask
Is that you don't open your mouth with an opinion
And I won't put you in it

And that's it, that's all there is to it dawg
If you didn't wanna do the fuckin' song
Don't say you're down with doin' the fuckin' song
And then back out at the last minute
And then go on motherfuckin' MTV talkin' about

Everlast can whip my motherfuckin' ass
If you're scared of Whitey Ford dog
Just say you're scared of Whitey Ford, that's it
That's all you had to fuckin' say, I wouldn'ta said shit

I woulda backed off, did the motherfuckin' song myself
And not put you motherfuckers in it, that's all
Now I ain't even on, no rap shit no more
I'm on some fuckin', you-up shit when I see you

And I will see you too, oh, and by the way Fred
That wasn't an accident
I didn't mean to give you a play at the Music Awards, haha

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7c5037b6827d6b3a93b1bcc51bbe5f4e

New Shit - Lyrics - Teairra Mari

Title: New Shit
Artist: Teairra Mari
Composer(s): Kwame Holland

Lyric:
I got plans for you and me
We both need to move on
'Cuz you ain't what I need
It took some time for me to find out

I didn't sign up for misery
And no we can't work it out
Things ain't the same way that they used to be
'Cuz you don't feel for me no more

I got some new clothes, new kicks
I got a new crib, new whip
All your drama, I don't miss
I'm so over you, boy
I'm on some new shit

I can't believe I was with you
All the pain that I went through
I sing a new song, new hit
I'm so over you, boy
I'm on some new shit

Now boy, don't start blowing up my phone
I thought I told you to be gone
(Be gone)
Had the chance to make things right
But you kept doing me wrong

This ain't a break up to make up game
I'ma do you how you did me
'Cuz this is a new day, new change, new me
I'm moving on to some new shit

I got some new clothes, new kicks
(New kicks)
I got a new crib, new whip
(New whip)
All your drama, I don't miss
I'm so over you, boy
I'm on some new shit

I can't believe I was with you
All the pain that I went through
(All the pain I went through)
I sing a new song, new hit
(New hit)
I'm so over you, boy
I'm on some new shit

Now that I know he ain't the one for me
(Now I know this, now I know this)
(Now I know this, so tell would it)
Tell me, would it make sense for me not to leave?
You know I'm already going
I guess it's time to move on

I got some new clothes, new kicks
I got a new crib, new whip
All your drama, I don't miss
(I don't miss)
I'm so over you, boy
I'm on some new shit
(Boy, I'm on some new shit)

I can't believe I was with you
All the pain that I went through
I sing a new song, new hit
I'm so over you, boy
I'm on some new shit

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
(I'm on some new shit)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
(I'm on some new shit)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
(I'm on some new shit)

I'm so over you, boy
I'm on some new shit
I'm so over you, boy
I'm on some new shit

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ddc1a4a45997900a701e288f17b10916

Do Dat - Lyrics - Petey Pablo

Title: Do Dat
Artist: Petey Pablo
Composer(s): Moses Barrett Iii, Darrol K. Durant, Roger Munroe

Lyric:
Are you a gun busting nigga?
(Buh-buh-buh-buh)
Are you a bitch baggin' nigga?
(Whu-whu-whu-whu)
You got ice and ya chain and ya chong wit your rolly on
Not just any rolly but you bought the most expensive one
Hey take ya car keys to ya class E
Big body be for your CD on ya DVD
For ya T.V in ya head beats
In ya back seat
Y'all think I'm mean

Runnin' round talking 'bout the shit that you talking 'bout
How you the drug game sewed up and locked down
John Gotti got life and I'm sure he never told nobody
Boy lets put on an album so the fuckin' feds could buy it

You should be shouting out them bodies you buried
Nine millimeters in tex and Dem AK47's
Illegal weapon you talking 'bout you suck in the club
You got so many guns
Tell me why you rapping stead of getting robbed
I got two more verses for you
This ain't just to an individual person
These questions here for all of ya

I can write a song with out ice, bitches, and cars
Can you mutha fuckas do dat
(Do dat)
I can blaze a track with out bustin' a gat at a cat
Can you mutha fuckas do dat
(Do dat)

Yoouu gonna have to change up all yo shit in a little bit
When the radios in the club get to pumpin' dis
And they start to finding out what what rappin' really is

Yoouu gonna have to change up all yo shit in a little bit
When the radios in the club get to pumpin' dis
And they start to finding out what what rappin' really is

Now that you know what the song about
Y'all probably cussin' me out
You gonna listen to it anyhow
Lets talk about somebody Eskimo
Rentin' they jewelry from Jacob
And don't let me know
You got a platinum piece
But your chain is plain right gone
After the video it gotta go back to the store
That's crazy

Talkin' 'bout some shit you don't own
Oughta be ashamed of yourself
Yo don't they call that frontin' holmes?
You ain't jigga, nigga
Nor can you spin like puff
And got a cash money deal
So what's your big Willy talk for?
I get so excited man
Your track got me leapin'
Then you start rhyming and yawn
I get sleepy

Yoouu gonna have to change up all yo shit in a little bit
When the radios in the club get to pumpin' dis
And they start to finding out what what rappin' really is

I can write a song with out ice, bitches, and cars
Can you mutha fuckas do dat
(Do dat)
I can blaze a track with out bustin' a gat at a cat
Can you mutha fuckas do dat
(Do dat)

It's a sad situation
Record name buggin' out
'Cuz they star artist done ran out of shit to talk about
Whoa
Yeah that's crazy
And you think about it baby
Only thing that changed in yo rhyme
Was ya day 2000

Oh that shit is hot
Put that on the album
You heard it with my man
Kick that shit
Loud and proud
Nigga swear he be throwin' down
Arthur lose his voice every time he opens his mouth
I oughta hold up a signs and boycott they ass right
No more muthafuckin' sound a likes
Sounded like

(Mobb deep!)
Sounded like
(Jay-Z!)
Sounded like
(B.I.B.!)
And we don't need no more please

Yoouu gonna have to change up all yo shit in a little bit
When the radios in the club get to pumpin' dis
And they start to finding out what what rappin' really is

Yoouu gonna have to change up all yo shit
(Yo shit)
Yo shit, yo shit
(Yo shit, yo shit)

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fdb1b323749bbccae2ac961e87469c1d

Z - Takeover - Lyrics - The Blueprint - Jay

Title: Z - Takeover
Album: The Blueprint
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Robbie Krieger, Lawrence Parker, John Densmore, E. Burdon, Shawn Carter, A. Lomax, Jim Morrison, B. Chandler, Ray Manzarek, Kanye West, Rodney Lemay

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

Lyric:
R.O.C, we runnin' this rap shit
Memphis Bleek, we runnin' this rap shit
B. Mac, we runnin' this rap shit
Freeway, we run this rap shit
O and Sparks, we runnin' this rap shit
Chris and Neef, we runnin' this rap shit

The takeover, the break's over nigga
God MC, me, Jay-Hova
Hey lil' soldier you ain't ready for war
R.O.C too strong for y'all
It's like bringin' a knife to a gunfight, pen to a test
Your chest in the line of fire with ya thin ass vest
You bringin' them Boyz II Men, how them boys gon' win?
This is grown man B.I., get you rolled in the triage

Beatch, your reach ain't long enough, dunny
Your peeps ain't strong enough, fucker
Roc-A-Fella is the army, better yet the navy
Niggaz'll kidnap your babies, spit at your lady
We bring knife to fistfight, kill your drama
Uh, we kill you motherfuckin' ants with a sledgehammer
Don't let me do it to you dunny 'cause I overdo it
So you won't confuse it with just rap music

R.O.C., we runnin' this rap shit
M-Easy, we runnin' this rap shit
The Broad Street Bully, we runnin' this rap shit
Get zipped up in plastic when it happens that's it
Freeway, we runnin' this rap shit
O and Sparks, we runnin' this rap shit
Chris and Neef, we runnin' this rap shit
"Watch out! We run New York"

I don't care if you Mobb Deep, I hold triggers to crews
You little fuck, I've got money stacks bigger than you
When I was pushin' weight, back in eighty-eight
You was a ballerina, I got your pictures I seen ya
Then you dropped "Shook Ones," switch your demeanor
Well, we don't believe you, you need more people
Roc-A-Fella, students of the game, we passed the classes
'Cause nobody could read you dudes like we do

Don't let 'em gas you like Jigga is ass and won't clap you
Trust me on this one, I'll detach you
Mind from spirit, body from soul
They'll have to hold a mass, put your body in a hole
No, you're not on my level get your brakes tweaked
I sold what ya whole album sold in my first week
You guys don't want it with Hov'
Ask Nas, he don't want it with Hov', no!

R.O.C., we runnin' this rap shit
B. Sigel, we runnin' this rap shit
M-Easy, we runnin' this rap shit
Get zipped up in plastic when it happens that's it
O and Sparks, we runnin' this rap shit
Freeway, we runnin' this rap shit
Chris and Neef, we runnin' this rap shit
Watch out! We run New York"

I know you missin' all the fame
But along with celebrity comes 'bout
Seventy shots to your brain, nigga, you are lame
Youse the fag model for Karl Kani-Esco ads
Went from, Nasty Nas to Esco's trash
Had a spark when you started but now you're just garbage
Fell from top ten to not mentioned at all

To your bodyguard's "Oochie Wally" verse better than yours
Matter fact you had the worst flow on the whole fuckin' song
But I know, the sun don't shine, then son don't shine
That's why your lame
Career come to an end, there's only so long fake thugs can pretend
Nigga, you ain't live it you witnessed it from your folks pad
You scribbled in your notepad and created your life

I showed you your first tec on tour with Large Professor
Then I heard your album bout your tec on your dresser
So yeah I sampled your voice, you was usin' it wrong
You made it a hot line, I made it a hot song
And you ain't get a corn nigga you was gettin' fucked then
I know who I paid God, Serchlite Publishing
Use your brain, you said you been in this ten
I've been in it five, smarten up Nas
Four albums in ten years nigga? I could divide

That's one every let's say two, two of them shits was due
One was nah, the other was "Illmatic"
That's a one hot album every ten year average
And that's so lame, nigga switch up your flow
Your shit is garbage, but you try and kick knowledge?
You niggaz gon' learn to respect the king
Don't be the next contestant on that Summer Jam screen
Because you know who, did you know what? With you know who
But just keep that between me and you for now

R.O.C, we runnin' this rap shit
M-Easy, we runnin' this rap shit
The Broad Street Bully, we runnin' this rap shit
Get zipped up in plastic when it happens that's it
Freeway, we runnin' this rap shit
O and Sparks, we runnin' this rap shit
Chris and Neef, we runnin' this rap shit
Watch out! We run New York"

A wise man told me don't argue with fools
'Cause people from a distance can't tell who is who
So stop with that childish shit, nigga I'm grown
Please leave it alone, don't throw rocks at the throne
Do not bark up that tree, that tree will fall on you
I don't know why your advisers ain't forewarn you
Please, not Jay, he's, not for play
I don't slack a minute, all that thug rappin' and gimmicks

I will end it, all that yappin' be finished
You are not deep, you made your bed now sleep
Don't make me expose to them folks that don't know you
Nigga I know you well, all the stolen jewels
Twinkletoes you breakin' my heart
You can't fuck with me, go play somewhere, I'm busy
And all you other cats throwin' shots at Jigga
You only get half a bar, fuck y'all niggaz

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704eefc2137b3027c37ff861084e0099

Sad Song - Lyrics - Krayzie Bone

Title: Sad Song
Artist: Krayzie Bone
Composer(s): Anthony Henderson

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

Lyric:
Shit
I've been a thug my whole motherfucking life
Struggling, doing what the fuck I've got to do to survive
Bottom line, thugline

You see me on TV but you don't really know me
Don't know the story of the warrior and how I survived in this game
Nigga never had shit
Had to work to get it or I had to steal it

Most of the time I was hungry, that's why I did it
I ain't bullshittin', seventeen
I'm leavin' the house, I need my own
Nigga done tried to be grown and fucked around

Now I'm homeless on the streets
With my niggas I learned about every drug
The heroine, the weed, the speed, the crack, the sherm
But we was broke and we couldn't afford it

But niggas was schemin' and plottin' on shit
Oh yes, you know this, I come from a long line of thugs
Us strugglers hustle what we can rustle up
It might not have been too much

But we always got just enough, our hard times
Kept niggas together through all the windy weather
And nigga whenever you need somebody to roll
I'm goin' to be there, you know me

A nigga stayed thug devoted in the streets
When I didn't have a place to sleep or shit to eat
My family goin through some pains
They struggle but they make out

My people off their hinges and it was against our religion as a witness
So you know I really can't comprehend it
My mother and father told me
"Don't mess with drugs and why you smokin'?"

I was right or wrong? Can't understand it
If the purpose was to have a nigga struggle
I don't think they should have had me, had me
Think they never should of had me
As I drop to my knees, can't you see I ain't happy?

I hope it won't be long, I hope it won't be long
Before I end this song, I wanna end this song
I hope it won't be long, it won't be long
I need to end this song, this sad song

I hope it won't be long, I hope it won't be long
Before I end this song, I need to end this song
I hope it won't be long, it won't be long
I need to end this song, sad song

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ba055380ca1bd58097fbd147c837cec7

Z - Ignorant Shit - Lyrics - American Gangster - Jay

Title: Z - Ignorant Shit
Album: American Gangster
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): O Isley, Chris Jasper, R Isley, D Grant, Ernie Isley, M Isley, J Smith, Sean Carter

Lyric:
Yes sir, just the sound of his voice is a hit
Y'all niggaz got me really confused out there
I make 'Big Pimpin'' or 'Give It To Me' one of those
Y'all hail me as the greatest writer of the 21st century
I make some thought provokin' shit y'all question whether he fallin' off
I'ma really confuse y'all on this one, follow

When them tops come down, chicks tops come down
Like when them shots come out, make cops come around
When them blocks come out I can wake up a small town
Finish off the block then I make my mall rounds

Stares get exchanged then the fifth come out
The tough guy disappear, then the bitch come out
"That's him", I'm usually what they whisper 'bout
Either what chick he with or his chip amount

'Cause I been doin' this since CHiPs was out
Watchin' Erik Estrada, baggin' up at the Ramada
Table full of powder, AC broke
'Bout to take another shower on my twenty-fifth hour

Spike Lee's everywhere, game on the flight
You might see me anywhere, day in the life
Only thing changed the tail number on the flight
I can touch down and take off the same night

I'm so bossy, bitch get off me
Trick get off me, you can't get shit off me
I'm so flossy, no 6's or Sprees
Laid back, Maybach's, don't even talk to me

This is that ignorant shit you like
Nigga fuck shit, ass bitch, trick precise, c'mon
I got that ignorant shit you love
Nigga fuck shit, maricón puta and drugs, c'mon

I got that ignorant shit you need
Nigga fuck shit, ass bitch, trick plus weed, c'mon
I'm only tryin' to give you what you want
Nigga fuck shit, ass bitch, you like it, don't front

They're all actors, lookin' at themselves in the mirror backwards
Can't even face themselves, don't fear no rappers
They're all weirdos, DeNiros in practice
So don't believe everythin' your earlobe captures, it's mostly backwards

Unless it happens to be as accurate as me
And everythin' said in song you happen to see
Then actually, believe half of what you see
None of what you hear, even if it's spat by me

And with that said, I will kill niggaz dead
Cut niggaz short, give you wheels for legs
I'm a K I double L E R, see y'all in hell
Shoot niggaz straight through the E.R.

Whoa, this ain't B.R., no
This S.C. CEO, the next Lyor, no
The next leader of the whole free world
And the first thing I'ma do is free Sigel, go

Take off the cuffs, unlock the gate
It's that ignorant nigga that you love to hate
The oh-seven Ice Cube, B. Sig' so rude
Tell a trick get these nuts, eat dick like food

Now see if I care if this verse get aired
Even if you mute it, the curse is there, yeah
I'm so raunchy, bitch get off me
Keep my flea collar on, you lil' ticks get off me

I missed the part when it stopped bein 'bout Imus
What do my lyrics got to do with this shit
'Scarface' the movie did more than Scarface the rapper to me
So that ain't to blame for all the shit that's happened to me

Are you sayin' what I'm spittin'
Is worse than these celebrataunts showin' they kittin', you kiddin'?
Let's stop the bullshittin'
'Til we all without sin, let's quit the pulpittin'

'Scarface' the movie did more than Scarface the rapper to me
So that ain't to blame for all the shit that's happened to me
Now stop the bullshittin'
'Til we all without sin, let's quit the pulpittin', c'mon

This is that ignorant shit you like
Nigga fuck shit, ass bitch, trick precise, c'mon
I got that ignorant shit you love
Nigga fuck shit, maricón puta and drugs, c'mon

I got that ignorant shit you need
Nigga fuck shit, ass bitch, trick plus weed, c'mon
I'm only tryin' to give you what you want
Nigga fuck shit, ass bitch, you like it, don't front

It's only entertainment

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Bitches Ain'T Shit - Lyrics - The Chronic - Dr. Dre

Title: Bitches Ain'T Shit
Album: The Chronic
Artist: Dr. Dre
Composer(s): Tenaia Sanders, Jonathan H Smith, Dajuan L Walker, Colin Wolfe, Delmar Arnaud, Ricardo Brown, Cordozar Broadus, Nathaniel D Hale, Tracy Curry, Andre R Young

Lyric:
Bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks

Bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks
Lick on deez nutz and suck the dick
Get's the fuck out after you're done
And I hops in my [Incomprehensible] to make a quick run

Bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks
Lick on deez nutz and suck the dick
Get's the fuck out after you're done
And I hops in my [Incomprehensible] to make a quick run

I used to know a bitch named Eric Wright
We used to roll around and fuck the hoes at night
Tight than a mutharfucka with the gangsta beats
And we was ballin' on the muthafuckin' Compton streets

Peep, the shit got deep and it was on
Number 1 song after number 1 song
Long as my muthafuckin' pockets was fat
I didn't give a fuck where the bitch was at

But she was hangin' with a white bitch doin' the shit she do
Suckin' on his dick just to get a buck or 2
And the few ends she got didn't mean nothin'
Now she's suing 'cuz the shit she be doin' ain't shit

Bitch can't hang with the streets, she found herself short
So now she's takin' me to court
It's real conversation for your ass
So recognize and pass to Daz

Now, as I'm rollin' with my nigga Dre and Eastwood
Fuckin' hoes, clockin' dough up to no good
We flip flop and serve hoes like flap jacks
But we don't love them hoes, bitch and it's like that

This is what you look for in a hoe who got cash flow
Ya run up in them hoes and grab the cash
And get your dash on
While you're chillin', with your homies and shit
And how my niggaz kick the anthem like this, beyach

Bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks
Lick on deez nutz and suck the dick
Get's the fuck out after you're done
And I hops in my [Incomprehensible] to make a quick run

To the store, to get me a 4 0
Snoop Doggy Dogg paged that must mean more hoes
So I head down the street to long beach
Just so I could meet, a freak
To lick me from my head to my feet

And I'm here, now I'm ready to be done up
Nothin' but homies around so I puts my gun up
Bitches on my nuts like clothes
But I'm from the pound and we don't love them hoes

How could you trust a hoe?
'Cuz a hoe's a trick
I don't love them tricks
'Cuz a trick's a bitch
And my dick's constantly in her mouth
Turnin' them trick ass hoes the fuck out now

I once had a bitch named Mandy May
Used to be up in them guts like everyday
The pussy was the bomb, had a nigga on sprung
I was in love like a muthafucka lickin' the protung

The homies used to tell me that she wasn't no good
But I'm the maniac in black, Mr. Snoop Eastwood
So I figure niggaz wouldn't trip with mine
Guess what? Got gaffled by one time

I'm back to the muthafuckin' county jail
6 months on my chest, now it's time to bail
I get's released on a hot sunny day
My nigga D.O.C. and my homey Dr. Dre

Scooped in a coupe, Snoop, we got news
Your girl was trickin' while you was draped in your county blues
I ain't been out a second
And already gotta do some muthafuckin' chin checkin'

Move up the block as we groove down the block
See, my girl's house, Dre, pass the glock
Kick in the do', I look on the flo'
It's my little cousin Daz and he's fuckin' my hoe, yo

(Bitches ain't shit)
I uncocked my shit, I'm heart-broke but I'm still loc'ed
Man, fuck a bitch

Bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks
Lick on deez nutz and suck the dick
Get's the fuck out after you're done
And I hops in my [Incomprehensible] to make a quick run

Bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks
Lick on deez nutz and suck the dick
Get's the fuck out after you're done
And I hops in my [Incomprehensible] to make a quick run

(Bitches ain't shit)
I don't give a fuck about a bitch
(Bitches ain't shit)
But I and her know that they can't fade this

'Cuz I'm doin' my own thing
(Bitches ain't shit)
Down with the swang
I'm hangin' with Death Row like it ain't no thing

I say you know can't deal
(Bitches ain't shit)
'Cuz I'm a bitch that's real
Motherfucker need to step back, hell yeah
They need to chill

Because I don't give a fuck
(Bitches ain't shit)
And I don't give a fuck
And I don't give a fuck
I don't give a fuck

And now I gotta do some
I gotta do some shit that's clean
(Bitches ain't shit)
But when I'm on a dick, hell yeah, I get real mean
Like a washing machine
I can wash the clothes
All the hoes knows
That I'm on the flo' ho

But they can't hang with my type on swang
(Bitches ain't shit)
I ain't tryin' to say I suck every ding-a-lang
But just the juicy ones
With the tip of the tongue
And then their sprung
With the nuts hung
(Bitches ain't shit)

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