Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Stack A Lee. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Stack A Lee. Sort by date Show all posts

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Stack A Lee - Lyrics - World Gone Wrong You - Bob Dylan

Title: Stack A Lee
Album: World Gone Wrong You
Artist: Bob Dylan
Composer(s): Traditional Bob (Arr) Dylan

Lyric:
Hawlin Alley on a dark and drizzly night
Billy Lyons and Stack a Lee had one terrible fight
All about that John.B. Stetson Hat

Stack a Lee walked to the bar-room and he called for a glass of beer
Turned around to Billy Lyons, said, "What are you doin' here?"
"Waitin' for a train to please bring my woman home"

"Stack a Lee, oh Stack a Lee, please don't take my life
Got three little children and a weepin', lovin' wife
You're a bad man, bad man Stack a Lee"

"God bless your children and I'll take care of your wife
You stole my John.B., now I'm bound to take your life"
All about that John.B. Stetson Hat

Stack a Lee turned to Billy Lyons and he shot him right through the head
Only takin' one shot to kill Billy Lyons dead
All about that John.B. Stetson Hat

Sent for the doctor, well the doctor he did come
Just pointed out, Stack a Lee, said, "Now what have you done?
You're a bad man, bad man Stack a Lee"

Six big horses and a rubber-tired hack
Taking him to the cemetery but they failed to bring him back
All about that John.B. Stetson Hat

Hawlin Alley, thought I heard the bulldog bark
Must have been old Stack a Lee stumblin' in the dark
He's a bad man, gonna land him right back in jail

High police walked on to Stack a Lee, he was lyin' fast asleep
High police gets Stack a Lee and he jumped forty feet
He's a bad man, gonna land him right back in jail

Well, they got old Stack a Lee and they led him right back in jail
Couldn't get a man around to go Stack a Lee's bail
All about that John.B. Stetson Hat

Stack a Lee turned to the jailer, he said, "Jailer, I can't sleep
'Round my bedside Billy Lyons begin to creep"
All about that John.B. Stetson Hat

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0767985eadf222fb2f13314dcacfe56f

Friday, August 20, 2010

Paradise Knife And Gun Club - Lyrics - Lonestar - Lonestar

Title: Paradise Knife And Gun Club
Album: Lonestar
Artist: Lonestar
Composer(s): Chris Rains

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

Lyric:
Joe Bob was rough as a cob
And prone to blow his stack
Kenny Dean was in a suicide scene
Sneaking behind Joe's back

Sneaking around with Joe's girl, June
She liked the boys in the band
And when they all got together on Saturday night
It was easy to understand, why

They called it Saturday night at
The Paradise Knife and Gun Club
And there's drinking and dancing
To the music of Bobby Lee and the Blackjacks

It was Saturday night at
The Paradise Knife and Gun Club
If you was looking for some trouble
You could find it, I guarantee

Now the owner of the place was a man named Jack
And he wouldn't take talking back
He was married to a woman named May
She took up the slack

He knocked you out and she'd drag you out
And leave you in the parking lot
And when you wake up in the morning with a busted head
You're just happy that was all you got

On Saturday night at
The Paradise Knife and Gun Club
And there's drinking and dancing
To the music of Bobby Lee and the Blackjacks

It was Saturday night at
The Paradise Knife and Gun Club
If you was looking for some trouble
You could find it, I guarantee

Well, the night Joe Bob found out
That Kenny Dean was sneaking around with June
He caught Bobby Lee and the band
In the middle of an old Hank Williams tune

Bobby Lee cried out your cheatin' heart
And that was just the spark it took
And when the fighting got started
Everybody took part and that whole damn building shook

Until the sheriff came out and he stopped the bout
Hauled everybody to jail
When the judge saw the blood and the chewed up ears
He turned a whiter shade of pale

He said, good God ya'll
What's happened here, somebody start a World War III
Well, Kenny Dean just grinned the best he could
Said, your Honor, it seems to me

Like it was just another Saturday night
At the Paradise Knife and Gun Club
And there's drinking and dancing
To the music of Bobby Lee and the Blackjacks

It was Saturday night at
The Paradise Knife and Gun Club
If you was looking for some trouble
You could find it, I guarantee

Yeah, on Saturday night at
The Paradise Knife and Gun Club
And there's drinking and dancing
To the music of Bobby Lee and the Blackjacks

It was Saturday night at
The Paradise Knife and Gun Club
If you was looking for some trouble
You could find it, I guarantee

Lord, if you was looking for some trouble
You could find it, I guarantee

Play the MP3 online for free!
8eba07577ce278a199db259e25ce1781

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Short Skirts - Lyrics - Baby Bash

Title: Short Skirts
Artist: Baby Bash
Composer(s): Carlos Coy, Nathan Perez, Russell Lee Atkins, Ronald Ray Bryant

Lyric:
Come on now, why you wanna do us like that girl
Come on now, got a skirt pulled up to your crack girl
Come on now, I love it when you show us that cat girl
Come on now, later on after barking and chat girl

Come on now, look at you freaking the cage girl
Come on now, now everybody seeing them legs girl
Come on now, you got this whole place in a rage girl
Come on now, can your boy get at least a little page girl

Come on now, let your back break I can't wait
To see you in them high heels, making the track shake
I stack weights, so you know money ain't a thang though
It's Baby Bash, Superman in a Kango

I like the short skirts, short skirts
I love the boppers in the short skirts, short skirts
Rolling on choppers in the shorts skirts, short skirts
My little mama's in a short skirts, short skirts

And H-Town love the short skirts, short skirts
And California love the short skirts, short skirts
And Arizona love the short skirts, short skirts
And Oklahoma love the short skirts, short skirts
And Sanitone

I walk in the club, in my big black boots
I look around and see em all flock in a group
Dancing in a circle, but I'm slow as a turtle
'Cause I be sipping on syrup until my tongue turn purple

I just did a show, for ten thousand mo'
I'ma go buy a diamond for my pinky toe
And if that diamond ring don't shine
I'ma hit somebody baby mama from behind

She get it free, she don't need no I.D. she V.I.P.
Join the booty contest, and walk away with a G
Oh mi-oh-ma, oh ma-oh-mi
She got the shortest skirt in history

I think she's a les, she does what I says
Look how she freaking young Happy Perez
She's the best, she love me even though I'm a nut
'Cause I be counting so much cash, I get paper cuts

I like the short skirts, short skirts
I love the boppers in the short skirts, short skirts
Rolling on choppers in the shorts skirts, short skirts
My little mama's in a short skirts, short skirts

And Colorado love the short skirts, short skirts
And in Chicago love the short skirts, short skirts
And Dallas, Texas love the short skirts, short skirts
And Las Vegas love the, short skirts, short skirts

I love to see you pop pop, up and down just like a drop top
Whoop wop, mama cita you looking too hot
You shop, as by wild on fire
I ain't gone lie, I wanna play with that tie
'Cause I'm a playa by nature, but I'm a hustla by trade
You need to roll with Baby Bash in the Escalade

We big tippers, syrup sippers, bird flippers
I'm the one that bought Cinderella, her glass slippers
Paint drippers, skirt rippers, city slickers
All these fly strippers, just wanna lick us
They kiss us, they hug us, short skirts by the dozens
I done went through all her sisters and cousins

Short skirts, short skirts, the Big Apple love the
Short skirts, short skirts, and Florida love the
Short skirts, short skirts, and Albuquerque love the
Short skirts, short skirts, Louisiana love the

Short skirts, short skirts, and Alabama love the
Short skirts, short skirts, and Kansas City love the
Short skirts, short skirts, and Mississippi love the
Short skirts, short skirts, and Michigan love the

Short skirts, short skirts, and Salt Lake City love the
Short skirts, short skirts, and in Seattle love the
Short skirts, short skirts, them black girls with a
Short skirts, short skirts, them white girls with a

Short skirts, short skirts, and Filipinas love the
Short skirts, short skirts, sexy Latinas love the
Short skirts, short skirts, Samoan girls love the
Short skirts, short skirts, and my colitas with a

Short skirts, short skirts, and my fahitas love the
Short skirts, short skirts, and Baby Beeshy love the
Short skirts, short skirts, and SPM love the
Short skirts, short skirts, and Happy P love the
And shout out she love the

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536bff0759d96a3c11ab296151bc4004

Friday, August 6, 2010

Thug Passion - Lyrics - All Eyez On Me - 2pac

Title: Thug Passion
Album: All Eyez On Me
Artist: 2pac
Composer(s): Johnny Lee Jackson, Jewell Peyton, Tupac Amaru Shakur, Donna T. Hunter, Mutah W. Beale, Katari T. Cox, Roger Troutman, Malcolm Greenidge, Shirley Murdock, Larry Troutman

Lyric:
Aight, new drink, one part alazhay one part Chrystal
Thugs Passion baby, y'all know what time it is
This drink is guaranteed to get the pussy wet and the dick hard
Now if ya with me, Pour a glass and drink with a nigga

Know what I mean ?
I ain't trying to turn you all niggas into alcoholics, alcoholics
I'm just trying to turn you into motherfuckin' thugs
So come and get some of this thug passion, baby

I could pull out the drink and be good 'till it's relevant
But I'm a straight solider, I'll roll up a nigga like it's Heaven sent
Tripping over dead presidents, they got these derelicts
I throw was down with this business tryin' clown and get a cent

And so rather than stand forever, been thinking
Drinking over a felony and hell of me and how it will be
Some other shit, people telling me to cool out
But they ain't feeling me a muthafuckin' fool 'bout

My fuckin' cheddar cheese and it pleases, passion of mine
Thuggin', huggin' plenty of G's and laughing while I pass through times
And all these back stabbers be watchin' just keep it plain
I'm a keep it the same partner just take it the simple game

I can pinkle with the rain twinkling, diamonds and thangs go plinklin'
Enough to hold me, til' I'm, old and wrinklin'
And These adversaries they gonna have to be worrying
'Cause I'm a be illing, fufilin' my passion till I'm burryin' my Thug Passion

I heard it's the bomb and you got it going on
Give me some of your Thug Passion, baby
You got me dripping wet from the way you make me sweat
Give me some of your Thug Passion, baby

Now what if me, turn this Hennessey into a robbery
The Prophecy probably suddenly switch and how it supposed to be?
And Dirty money Can't be evil 'cause it's filling up my tummy
Born in a position, Death collision was futuristic, twisting riches

But there is only one way to make mo'
So I'm standing on the corner trying to hustle in the snow
And my big bro couldn't know but buy a four four
Blasting at playa hating wantin' mo' with a Thug Passion

Putting down mashin' control by this Thug's Passion
Unlike them other bustas pistol blastin' I'm asking
?What Happened??, to the niggas who kept it real
Like they claim to that's when I bang do see thang true

Traveling this road my poor soul has been consolidated
With all this bullshit I done tolerated
How I made it Can easily stated, it's like my heart be gripped with
The Passion to be the fucking greatest load up and take shit

Make this to some high dollar gangster shit
Jack a stack till we got enough bank to split

Creep with me through that Immortal flow
Thug Passion got you tremblin' like death on the row
Make your move so I can throw your mind a curve
While I'll be blowin up tha scene like my nigga Mr. Herb

Take a toke as your heart goes full arrest
I got tha bomb so nigga, fuck tha rest
Ya need a 3rd to get ya flowin' and let that loc see smoke
Feelin' tha strokes of tha nine squeeze tight and slow

I heard it's the bomb and you got it going on
Give me some of your Thug Passion, baby
You got me dripping wet from the way you make me sweat
Give me some of your Thug Passion, baby

They say, money don't make tha man but damn I'm makin' money
Observin' you muthafuckers 'cause some of you bitches funny
Say you want it but you bullshitin', lickin' them lips
You got me about to act a fool quick

Sippin' on some Alazay and Cristal, meanwhile
Buy me a drink and get to winking at me she smiles
A niggas full of passion, satisfaction is everlastin'
How does it feel ? What I'm askin'

While I'm rubbin' on that ass why you laughin' ?
See, I'm diggin' as if I'm curious, full blown and furious
Baby, get a grip when I be doin' this, it's so physical
My attraction driven by alcohol beware of my reaction

Baby, I'm born to ball thugged out on Death Row
You better recognize and picture what I said so
Now you can feel it, it's a potion for my niggas in motion
Forever blastin' bitches ain't ready for this Thug Passion

I heard it's the bomb and you got it going on
Give me some of your Thug Passion, baby
You got me dripping wet from the way you make me sweat
Give me some of your Thug Passion, baby

I heard it's the bomb and you got it going on
Give me some of your Thug Passion, baby
You got me dripping wet from the way you make me sweat
Give me some of your Thug Passion, baby

I heard it's the bomb and you got it going on
Give me some of your Thug Passion, baby
You got me dripping wet from the way you make me sweat
Give me some of your Thug Passion, baby

I heard it's the bomb and you got it going on
Give me some of your Thug Passion, baby
You got me dripping wet from the way you make me sweat
Give me some of your Thug Passion, baby

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d8ce190a07b3b7af78c4c0fec266c467

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

I Do - Lyrics - Powerballin' - Chingy

Title: I Do
Album: Powerballin'
Artist: Chingy
Composer(s): Shamar D. Daugherty, Howard Earl Bailey, Alonzo E. Lee Jr.

Lyric:
Chingy, Track Stars dirty, well I got a Caprice on 24's
I got a Range Rover with spinners
I got an Imparler with beat let's go

I do ride Bentleys and coupes
But I don't give away all my loot
Trick four've us and a tramp I won't
Ride less then twenty inches I don't

But I do know this might be a single when I walk my chains on
So it my jingle if she give me brains on
The haters know were my crew so famous
That I cant go no wearin' that loot, you name it

The mall the gas station dem people be waiting to see me
Hop in somethin' hating all them duece duece skating
Runnin' it like Walter Payton until you fucked it
It's so blatent, fuck the paper I'm savin' my bank acount is amazin'

I'm ratin' myself a 20, I'm takin' myself a 20
I'm doin' this show for 20, then holla at me, this 20 about money
I gots ta make, stack up a couple hundred mill
Then take my ass a break

I do ride Bentleys and coupes
But I don't give away all my loot
Trick four've us and a tramp I won't
Ride less then twenty inches I don't

But I do ride Bentleys and coupes
But I don't give away all my loot
Trick four've us and a tramp I won't
Ride less then twenty inches I don't

I gotta 75 Caprice in my yard
A loui drop top graphics man it's hard
Custom made interior dirty it's the shit
Ratin' spins and spokes 24's on it

Yep gotta TV and steerin' wheels like Luda
And if you run up on me look dirty ill shoot ya
G I B 1 on my customized plates
Slide alot bottles don't never come fake

I'm about to hit Lillian, just past Clackston
Whippin' with a peice that's better than Tony Braxton's
Ain't no right no rythem in with my few team bumps
I got the 3 amps and the woofers in my trunk
Yeyah I know you money hungry hoes wanna roll with trick
You know I ride nothin' less than them dubs

I do ride Bentleys and coupes
But I don't give away all my loot
Trick four've us and a tramp I won't
Ride less then twenty inches I don't

But I do ride Bentleys and coupes
But I don't give away all my loot
Trick four've us and a tramp I won't
Ride less then twenty inches I don't

But I don't, but I don't
Trick four've us and a tramp I won't
Ride less then twenty inches I don't
But I don't

Pretty honey hit me lookin' good
Right sittin' on the banks lookin' good
Hundred thousand round my neck lookin' good
Cappers tryin' to run up I wish she would

I role wit nuttin' but ballas with 26's with them chrome rims
Rims on da truck make them heffers get hypnotized quick
Candy colored paintin' makin' new tricks fanu's this
Bars on my tucker time to step up into my wip

O G blue secrets money makin' you fools sick
Us like your there, my dirtys flipin' some hoe bricks
I don't give a damn, if you don't give a damn
I'm a stunt, I'm gunna go an' let us know who I am
Cars, clothes, money, ice, straps, clips, hoe's, dikes
Magnums, freaks house, price, 1 point 5 life

I do ride Bentleys and coupes
But I don't give away all my loot
Trick four've us and a tramp I won't
Ride less then twenty inches I don't

But I do ride Bentleys and coupes
But I don't give away all my loot
Trick four've us and a tramp I won't
Ride less then twenty inches I don't

But I do

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293a0c0914f538fb8ffeb3e5e04c2b20

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

N-Noreaga - Neva Die Alone - Lyrics - Capone

Title: N-Noreaga - Neva Die Alone
Artist: Capone
Composer(s): Anthony Best, Percy Lee Chapman, Victor Santiago, Kiam Holley

Lyric:
Huhuhahhahahha, oh shit, haha
The invincible, CNN
The unstoppable, CNN
Lebanon, Bosnia, Kuwait, Iraq, Syria, yo, yo, yo

Yo icepick, Arabic, Saudi Arabia
My clique roll thick, rip shit, like WrestleMania
Saddam Hussein, president of what I claim
Still the same name, tied to this shit like I'm to blame
Then maintain, gettin' this Cream with bloodstain
2-5-to 'cuz the crew stuck in the game
A quarterly, you vs. me, and try to slaughter me
The door was locked, top lock stuck, bad luck

Come out the elevator, K-tone, like, "Nigga what?"
Arab Nazi, play the low, [unverified]
What up though, 151, we smoke 'dro
Brown bags, tons of hash get smoked
Yo, that real shit, pro'ly make you bleed down your throat
Then choke, coughin' up the murder I wrote

I smoke spanky, hit it hard, mega hard
Then burn it down under the ground around guard
I rented, bitch on my dick then I presented
Diploma, keep her wide open in TONY roma'
Back shots, Holiday Inn about to bone her
And cold own her, drop her off inside Corona
With pistolo, call me tomorrow on the 'Rola
The Ayatollah, strike back you're just a soldier

For them thug niggas holding their gats and never scared
I'm prepared, every day get bent on beers
Play the corner close, quick to jump on the toast
Dead shot, take your knot, dun and get ghost
While you talk fronting, walk fronting like a villain
Soft something, so hot what a feeling
Mo' with the ice chillin', roll dice make a killin'
Wanna see twice a million, no love for a got civilian

Mix-a-lot in the spot yellin', for a second, freeze dealin'
Back to business, pump 'til the pack finished
Stack spinach, mad bent, crash renters
Full enough to whip somethin', a-alike twist somethin'
Henny got my shit sunken, stay drunken
Wit' a bop, holdin' your cock
(Yeah)

Pushin' weed drop
(Hahaha)
Yeah, the game don't stop
(Don't stop nigga)
Let the beat drop, bring it back to the top
Just for them thug niggas, chicks and hard rocks
Street to cell block, rock to Comstock
Movin' like a flock of Arabs in war-lock

Makin' on blocks a four-carat stone, infrared chrome
In Kuwait I await skull and crossbone
In my own zone, Motorola flip-phone
The infrared on the Giorgio Armani specs
Blowin' tecs at the opposite sex
For the six-figure check, my slug injects
When the god lay to rest, my seed is next
I was blessed with a thug's caress and a dime's finesse

Titanium chest and bubble vest
(Yeah, titanium chest and bubble vest)
My pop's dead, now it's too late to warn me, inform me
D's wanna plant ki's on me, eternally I wanna sleep
Without the venom of a snake nigga tryin' to creep
Stakes is high and a thug's blood runs deep
The Jakes wanna see me layin' under six feet
Or so it seems, now my team work against me

They can't stop my money move, it's too intensely
Khadafi, I plant bombs where the Feds be
I'm like Moses in the middle of the Red Sea
With infrared and a case full of hundred G
Leadin' my thugs to the land of [unverified]
With no cops, pure coke growing on the tree
Arab Nazi, Tommy Hill and Nikes on
Guerrilla rap song
Yeah, CNN guerrilla rap song

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f53b2edb01800840c7f24656197825a0

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Money In The Bank - Lyrics - Bred 2 Die Born 2 Live - Lil Scrappy

Title: Money In The Bank
Album: Bred 2 Die Born 2 Live
Artist: Lil Scrappy
Composer(s): Isaac Lee Iii Hayes, Darryl R Richardson Ii

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

Lyric:
Okay-kay-kay
G's up, Lil Scrappy
I got money
BME, money in the bank, G-Unit

I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?
I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?

I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?
I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?

I'ma get that, dough and f*** with dem, h***
Young ladies that know me know Scrappy's a pro
Fill up at the, bar go get a massage
Find me a couple, we can make it a menage

You be tryin' hard but n**** don't start
You be doin' s*** is gon' get you to the morgue
I go get that paper a mega f*****' watch
I be pullin' out knots that can buy me a yacht

Hold on, baby, please go get on yo' knees
If you don't do it for me, then do it for the cheese
I got extra w***, money long like sleeves
If a n**** try to creep, I got extra heat

Got a bank account with a large amount
If a n**** wanna talk, n**** we can let it bounce
Take it outside, n**** f*** fallin' back
Killers run up in the club ballin' with a bigger stack

I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?
I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?

I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?
I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?

I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?
I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?

I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?
I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?

Two step with me, let me show you how it goes
The Murcielago, lemme show you how it rolls
I got a Bentley that I only drove one time
50 bought it for me shawty but it's still mine

My Chevy clean and the paint look like lemon-lime
You wanna shine, it ain't hard, just get on your grind
We keep a bankroll, wallet full of credit cards
Cup full of Cristal, box full of cigars

Dirty South tatted on my back, I'm country
She said she like the way I talk, these h*** love me
Club goin' crazy, we throwin' out stacks
G-Unit South, yeah, tell the DJ bring it back

See I'm A-Town stompin' in a A-Town hat
But I'm reppin' Tennessee, like my homey Project Pat
It ain't 'bout where you from homeboy it's where you at
Scrappy beat me on the dice, yeah, it's cool I'll be back
'Cause I got

Money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?
I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?

I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?
I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?

I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?
I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?

I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?
I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?

50 got me, Lil Jon got me
I got a big-*** squad, how you gon' stop me?
Y'all n***** watch me rise to the top
My s*** gon' sell, yo' s*** gon' flop

Lil Jon got me, 50 got me
I got a big-*** family, how you gon' stop me?
Y'all n*****, watch me rise to the top
My s*** gon' sell, yo' s*** gon' flop

I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?
I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?

I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?
I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?

I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?
I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?

I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?
I got money in the bank, yeah
Shawty what you drank?

Play the MP3 online for free!
10b9e467d92c25b9ebbda18bdd1521e0

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

1, 2, 1, 2 - Lyrics - Blackout! (with Redman) - Method Man

Title: 1, 2, 1, 2
Album: Blackout! (with Redman)
Artist: Method Man
Composer(s): Clifford Smith, George Spivey, Reggie Noble

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

Lyric:
Come on
1, 2, 1, 2, uh uh
1, 2, 1, 2
Mr. Meth and Doc
1, 2, 1, 2
Uh uh, 1, 2, 1, 2
DJ scratch on the track
1, 2, 1, 2
1, 2, 1, 2
Break your motha fuckin' back
1, 2, 1, 2
Ah yo, yo

My lyric is 8 ball, batter up play ball
Fuck ya'll analog, niggas, we be digital
Subliminal comin', from the five star general
Attack you from the blind side
Invisible to the naked eye, where them criminals
Better have your eight essential vitamins and minerals
The wu is comin' through you know the outcome
Critical condition in your physical for injurin'
The officer and gentleman who stack by the Benjamin

Off a beat like this, I keep a night stick
In case any stick up care, where heat might miss
I chicken fry rice bitch in a white trench
Bustin' off two macks, I'm like I'm hit
Yo, I'm just playin', I clear the crowd out
Like a peppa spray can sprayin'
I throw lightin' out the arms raiden
Go guard your prey
Next year I do nothin' more than Y2K

We say
Wa wa wa wa, 1, 2 ,1, 2
Wa wa wa wa, 1, 2, 1, 2
We say
Wa wa wa wa, 1, 2, 1, 2
We say
Wa wa wa wa, 1, 2, 1, 2

We say
Wa wa wa wa, 1, 2, 1, 2
Wa wa wa wa, 1, 2, 1, 2
And if you say fuck me
I'ma say fuck you
Wa wa wa wa, 1, 2, 1, 2

From debutant down to stripper
I'm too nonchalant, a drink mixed with four kinds of liquors
Catch me at the bar, 'Fu Bar', ladies know who we are
And dream of fuckin' a star, who da scrub
Shotgun in this man car
Burnin' up, forever gettin' thrown out the club
It be us Paul, shot out and bugged
I smoke bud, sniff a bee's ass to get a buzz
I'm everything you think you don't know

Yo man, I throw a 5 in the power
Poppa wheely with the front end hittin speed bumps
40 miles per hour
I'm out at Howard, next to Baltimore
Takin' change out the fountains at shoppin' malls
Rats can only afford chuck-e-cheese
The blood in my jeans is tough like Buddy Lee
Semi-dart auto off ya, blood coughin'
Meth pull a last spark plug with a heart pump

We say
Wa wa wa wa, 1, 2 ,1, 2
Yo, wa wa wa wa, 1, 2, 1, 2
We say
Wa wa wa wa, 1, 2, 1, 2
Ah yo
Wa wa wa wa, 1, 2, 1, 2

We say
Wa wa wa wa, 1, 2, 1, 2
Ah yo
Wa wa wa wa, 1, 2, 1, 2
And if you say fuck me
I'ma say fuck you
Wa wa wa wa, 1, 2, 1, 2

Call me Will, enemy I state
When four doc run the scam
New jacks studderin', that the man from the upper hand
Punch, atomic bomb I hit many
From bricks to South Park, you dyin' with Kenny
While you bailin', I'm trailin'
Rockin' hard hat helmets, clip the satellite surveillance
When I walk by you better not be kickin'
Or I put two more in that Terriyaki chicken

You've just been fitted for them seaman shoes
This is bottom of the lake raps
Stab you in the back
Kung fu
Fifty-two cops can't withstand the fifty-two blocks
Unless they bust like fifty-two shots
I'm the has been that have not
Battle kids at Maxwell's house

Know when I'm good to the last drop
What's my name, Meth, his name's Doc
Just like urban
See me in the gran' transportation splurgin'
Drivin' with a turban who push a black suburban
Come on, we rollin' windows half down through the urban
Network law lay it down like a Persian
M to the E to the F, spell curtain

Get out your car sucker
This ain't yours
Robbed you with a gun that filled with paint balls
And brauds got the nerve to act funny
You a champagne ho, with kool aide money
Frown bitch, Doc up in that town quick
You back down a point on NFL blitz
I'm lyin', buddah break fool and take two
And put your hole in the earth to escape through

We say
Wa wa wa wa, 1, 2 ,1, 2
Wa wa wa wa, 1, 2, 1, 2
We say
Wa wa wa wa, 1, 2, 1, 2
Ah yo
Wa wa wa wa, 1, 2, 1, 2

We say
Wa wa wa wa, 1, 2, 1, 2
Ah yo
Wa wa wa wa, 1, 2, 1, 2
And if you say fuck me
I'ma say fuck you
Wa wa wa wa, 1, 2, 1, 2, 2, 2

Yeah, yo
DJ scratch
Not ready for prime time playas
Mr. Meth, funk Doc
Def Jam 2000 mutha fuckas
Calm me down, baby
Nod your head to this

Come on
Ah yo, this is WKYA Radio
We are kickin' your motha fuckin ass
Yo Flex
Thats right it's goin' down
Redman, method man, blackin the funk out
Now listen

Play the MP3 online for free!
662ee17f3d9eeaec569922a80ac3e655

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Bitches S & Bizness - Lyrics - Boyz N Da Hood

Title: Bitches S & Bizness
Artist: Boyz N Da Hood
Composer(s): Jay Jenkins, Jacoby White, William Roberts, Chadron Moore, Miguel T. Scott, Lee Dixon

Lyric:
We gone do it like this
From the A-T-L
All the way down to the 305 MIA
Cocaine capital, nigga
Yeah, the Boyz N Da Hood

The bizness is bitches
The pussy I keep in my pocket
The niggas keep watchin'
They know I'll be rockin' my watches

G's keep knockin'
They know I'll be shootin' to spot 'em
The Boyz N Da Hood
Strictly distribute the product

My niggas get slizzard
I'm smokin' and chillin' in Pradas
Fuck a 9 to 5
We gone just do what we gotta

I'm in the Chevy thang
Everything runnin' is proper
Don't come to close
'Cuz I'm subject to [Incomprehensible] my chopper

We in the streets, in the streets
Who got the weed, got the weed
I got a couple keys
Wanna eat, fuck wit me

You don't want to see me pissed off, yeah
Fuck until my dicks off, Boyz N Da Hood
Nigga, this is riff ruff

Now I rock a lot of ice 'cuz I'm keepin' it slum
Six lugs at the bottom, lockin', keep 'em in tone
Crack rock cocaine, what we keep where I'm from
You don't believe me, nigga, come and see where I'm from

Keep 2 or 3 heaters dug deep in my bum
The police tryin' to keep the concrete on my palm
But I got shit to do
And I got bricks to move, okay

But y'all are playin' for 4 mil
You can get for 2 nigga and try to play me dude
And I'm gone put yo ass in some baby shoes
And I don't mean the ones that your babies use

I know I talk about my niggas a lot
But I shoot too
Give me something to nut up about
And watch me shoot you

I woke about 6 in the mornin'
Gotta get paid, fuck moanin' and groanin'
Hit the block, get the truck rollin', rollin'
By the night time our pockets is swollen, swollen

I woke about 6 in the mornin'
Gotta get paid, fuck moanin' and groanin'
Hit the block, get the truck rollin', rollin'
By the night time our pockets is swollen, swollen

From dust to dawn, we stay posted up in project homes
Keep a plastic tone, y'all want it bring it on
We'll creep up in yo home, hangin' by yo bitches thongs
Say you's a gorilla, say what happened to King Kong

We real play makers and this is not ESPN
Welcome to the gutter, now watch the shit fest begin
Ain't no fuckin' Jack Triple but I'm bakin' cakes
Plus my cakes triple, what that fag makes

Fuckin' just to stay awake, makin' sure I never stumble
Granted till my bank statement look like social security numbers
Call us cookie monsters, makin' cookie niggas crumble
Catch a double digit jersey number if you fumble

I'm gone tote the poll lock and load
Shoot till you hear that bow
Take my time, speak my mind like I'm [Incomprehensible]
Got a country slang, baby, you can tell, ain't it

You can kill too, a lot of us got them feds at us
Still keep a stankin' kitchen
'Cuz in the midst of the caine
On the way, the crack smell durin' the intermission

Triple beam hand held hanksty
Got some caine stain colored on the finger nail
Chrome black dished back up til I [Incomprehensible]
Saw him walk a thin line but it's not a fat red

I'm gone rap for these packed heads
Gats crack, sells sex and blacks that want to stack mils
Smokin' on the purple stack
Runnin' in yo house ramblin' wondering where the work is at

Hoes in the third, still hollerin' where the purses at
Phone in Atlanta, ring the family where they murked at
6:45 am, life's great, got the bacon soda
I'm cookin' pancakes, that's right

Where I'm from nigga, I'm the man
Take him out, break him down like a lap dance
I ain't playin', I got hella choppers
Call my partnas then they got helicopters, that's right
Just like my old job but a lil' different, what

I used to work at churches chicken
But now I cook my chicken to my own kitchen
A kitchen fork and a glass pocket
Try to rob if you want get ya ass shot

I woke about 6 in the mornin'
Gotta get paid, fuck moanin' and groanin'
Hit the block, get the truck rollin', rollin'
By the night time our pockets is swollen, swollen

I woke about 6 in the mornin'
Gotta get paid, fuck moanin' and groanin'
Hit the block, get the truck rollin', rollin'
By the night time our pockets is swollen, swollen

Play the MP3 online for free!
9bd6e11a20aac974f820fc1a9623fbbe

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Bitches & Bizness - Lyrics - Boyz N da Hood - Boyz N Da Hood

Title: Bitches & Bizness
Album: Boyz N da Hood
Artist: Boyz N Da Hood
Composer(s): Jay Jenkins, Jacoby White, William Roberts, Chadron Moore, Miguel T. Scott, Lee Dixon

Lyric:
We gone do it like this
From the A-T-L
All the way down to the 305 MIA
Cocaine capital, nigga
Yeah, the Boyz N Da Hood

The bizness is bitches
The pussy I keep in my pocket
The niggas keep watchin'
They know I'll be rockin' my watches

G's keep knockin'
They know I'll be shootin' to spot 'em
The Boyz N Da Hood
Strictly distribute the product

My niggas get slizzard
I'm smokin' and chillin' in Pradas
Fuck a 9 to 5
We gone just do what we gotta

I'm in the Chevy thang
Everything runnin' is proper
Don't come to close
'Cuz I'm subject to [Incomprehensible] my chopper

We in the streets, in the streets
Who got the weed, got the weed
I got a couple keys
Wanna eat, fuck wit me

You don't want to see me pissed off, yeah
Fuck until my dicks off, Boyz N Da Hood
Nigga, this is riff ruff

Now I rock a lot of ice 'cuz I'm keepin' it slum
Six lugs at the bottom, lockin', keep 'em in tone
Crack rock cocaine, what we keep where I'm from
You don't believe me, nigga, come and see where I'm from

Keep 2 or 3 heaters dug deep in my bum
The police tryin' to keep the concrete on my palm
But I got shit to do
And I got bricks to move, okay

But y'all are playin' for 4 mil
You can get for 2 nigga and try to play me dude
And I'm gone put yo ass in some baby shoes
And I don't mean the ones that your babies use

I know I talk about my niggas a lot
But I shoot too
Give me something to nut up about
And watch me shoot you

I woke about 6 in the mornin'
Gotta get paid, fuck moanin' and groanin'
Hit the block, get the truck rollin', rollin'
By the night time our pockets is swollen, swollen

I woke about 6 in the mornin'
Gotta get paid, fuck moanin' and groanin'
Hit the block, get the truck rollin', rollin'
By the night time our pockets is swollen, swollen

From dust to dawn, we stay posted up in project homes
Keep a plastic tone, y'all want it bring it on
We'll creep up in yo home, hangin' by yo bitches thongs
Say you's a gorilla, say what happened to King Kong

We real play makers and this is not ESPN
Welcome to the gutter, now watch the shit fest begin
Ain't no fuckin' Jack Triple but I'm bakin' cakes
Plus my cakes triple, what that fag makes

Fuckin' just to stay awake, makin' sure I never stumble
Granted till my bank statement look like social security numbers
Call us cookie monsters, makin' cookie niggas crumble
Catch a double digit jersey number if you fumble

I'm gone tote the poll lock and load
Shoot till you hear that bow
Take my time, speak my mind like I'm [Incomprehensible]
Got a country slang, baby, you can tell, ain't it

You can kill too, a lot of us got them feds at us
Still keep a stankin' kitchen
'Cuz in the midst of the caine
On the way, the crack smell durin' the intermission

Triple beam hand held hanksty
Got some caine stain colored on the finger nail
Chrome black dished back up til I [Incomprehensible]
Saw him walk a thin line but it's not a fat red

I'm gone rap for these packed heads
Gats crack, sells sex and blacks that want to stack mils
Smokin' on the purple stack
Runnin' in yo house ramblin' wondering where the work is at

Hoes in the third, still hollerin' where the purses at
Phone in Atlanta, ring the family where they murked at
6:45 am, life's great, got the bacon soda
I'm cookin' pancakes, that's right

Where I'm from nigga, I'm the man
Take him out, break him down like a lap dance
I ain't playin', I got hella choppers
Call my partnas then they got helicopters, that's right
Just like my old job but a lil' different, what

I used to work at churches chicken
But now I cook my chicken to my own kitchen
A kitchen fork and a glass pocket
Try to rob if you want get ya ass shot

I woke about 6 in the mornin'
Gotta get paid, fuck moanin' and groanin'
Hit the block, get the truck rollin', rollin'
By the night time our pockets is swollen, swollen

I woke about 6 in the mornin'
Gotta get paid, fuck moanin' and groanin'
Hit the block, get the truck rollin', rollin'
By the night time our pockets is swollen, swollen

Play the MP3 online for free!
f73230cbf8b17daf9cbd022bc8c88677

Thursday, August 5, 2010

My Name Is (Bootleg Version) - Lyrics - Eminem

Title: My Name Is (Bootleg Version)
Artist: Eminem
Composer(s): Labi Siffre

Lyric:
Hi, my name is, my name is
(What? Who?)
My name is Slim Shady
Hi, my name is, my name is
(Huh? What?)
My name is Slim Shady

Ahem, excuse me
Can I have the attention of the class
For one second?

Hi kids, do you like violence?
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Wanna see me stick Nine Inch Nails
Through each one of my eyelids?
(Uh, huh)

Wanna copy me and do exactly like I did?
(Yeah, yeah)
Try 'cid and get fucked up worse that my life is?
(Huh?)

My brain's dead weight, I'm tryin' to get my head straight
But I can't figure out which Spice Girl I want to impregnate
(Umm)
And Dr. Dre said, "Slim Shady you a basehead"
Uh, uhh, So why's your face red? Man you wasted

Well, since age twelve, I've felt like I'm someone else
'Cause I hung my original self from the top bunk with a belt
Got pissed off and ripped Pamela Lee's tits off
And smacked her so hard
I knocked her clothes backwards like Kris Kross

I smoke a fat pound of grass and fall on my ass
Faster than a fat bitch who sat down too fast
C'mere slut
(Shady, wait a minute, that's my girl dog)
I don't give a fuck, God sent me to piss the world off
Hi, my name is, my name is

(What? Who?)
My name is Slim Shady
Hi, my name is, my name is
(Huh? What?)
My name is Slim Shady

My English teacher wanted to flunk me in junior high
Thanks a lot, next semester I'll be thirty-five
I smacked him in his face with an eraser, chased him with a stapler
And stapled his nuts to a stack of papers
(Oww)

Walked in the strip club, had my jacket zipped up
Flashed the bartender, then stuck my dick in the tip cup
Extraterrestrial, runnin' over pedestrians
In a spaceship while they screamin' at me, "Let's just be friends"

Ninety-nine percent of my life I was lied to
I just found out my mom does more dope than I do
(Damn)
I told her I'd grow up to be a famous rapper
Make a record about doin' drugs and name it after her
(Oh, thank you)

You know you blew up when the women rush your stands
And try to touch your hands like some screamin' Usher fans
(Aah)
This guy at White Castle asked for my autograph
(Dude, can I get your autograph?)
So I signed it "Dear Dave, thanks for the support, asshole"

Hi, my name is, my name is
(What? Who?)
My name is Slim Shady
Hi, my name is, my name is
(Huh? What?)
My name is Slim Shady

Stop the tape, this kid needs to be locked away
(Get him)
Dr. Dre, don't just stand there, operate
I'm not ready to leave, it's too scary to die
(Fuck that)
I'll have to be carried inside the cemetery and buried alive

(Huh, yup)
Am I comin' or goin'? I can barely decide
I just drank a fifth of vodka, dare me to drive?
(Go ahead)
All my life I was very deprived
I ain't had a woman in years and my palms are too hairy to hide

Clothes ripped like the Incredible Hulk
(Hachhh-too)
I spit when I talk, I'll fuck anything that walks
(C'mere)
When I was little I used to get so hungry I would throw fits

How you gonna breast feed me, mom?
(Wah)
You ain't got no tits
(Wah)
I lay awake and strap myself in the bed
Put a bulletproof vest on and shoot myself in the head

I'm steamin' mad
And by the way when you see my dad?
(Yeah?)
Tell him that I slit his throat in this dream I had

Hi, my name is, my name is
(What? Who?)
My name is Slim Shady
Hi, my name is, my name is
(Huh? What?)
My name is Slim Shady

Play the MP3 online for free!
bd5d685aaba2dce90ee663193afb0c15

Saturday, August 14, 2010

My Name Is (Real Dirty) - Lyrics - Eminem

Title: My Name Is (Real Dirty)
Artist: Eminem
Composer(s): Labi Siffre

Lyric:
Hi, my name is, my name is
(What? Who?)
My name is Slim Shady
Hi, my name is, my name is
(Huh? What?)
My name is Slim Shady

Ahem, excuse me
Can I have the attention of the class
For one second?

Hi kids, do you like violence?
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Wanna see me stick Nine Inch Nails
Through each one of my eyelids?
(Uh, huh)

Wanna copy me and do exactly like I did?
(Yeah, yeah)
Try 'cid and get fucked up worse that my life is?
(Huh?)

My brain's dead weight, I'm tryin' to get my head straight
But I can't figure out which Spice Girl I want to impregnate
(Umm)
And Dr. Dre said, "Slim Shady you a basehead"
Uh, uhh, So why's your face red? Man you wasted

Well, since age twelve, I've felt like I'm someone else
'Cause I hung my original self from the top bunk with a belt
Got pissed off and ripped Pamela Lee's tits off
And smacked her so hard
I knocked her clothes backwards like Kris Kross

I smoke a fat pound of grass and fall on my ass
Faster than a fat bitch who sat down too fast
C'mere slut
(Shady, wait a minute, that's my girl dog)
I don't give a fuck, God sent me to piss the world off
Hi, my name is, my name is

(What? Who?)
My name is Slim Shady
Hi, my name is, my name is
(Huh? What?)
My name is Slim Shady

My English teacher wanted to flunk me in junior high
Thanks a lot, next semester I'll be thirty-five
I smacked him in his face with an eraser, chased him with a stapler
And stapled his nuts to a stack of papers
(Oww)

Walked in the strip club, had my jacket zipped up
Flashed the bartender, then stuck my dick in the tip cup
Extraterrestrial, runnin' over pedestrians
In a spaceship while they screamin' at me, "Let's just be friends"

Ninety-nine percent of my life I was lied to
I just found out my mom does more dope than I do
(Damn)
I told her I'd grow up to be a famous rapper
Make a record about doin' drugs and name it after her
(Oh, thank you)

You know you blew up when the women rush your stands
And try to touch your hands like some screamin' Usher fans
(Aah)
This guy at White Castle asked for my autograph
(Dude, can I get your autograph?)
So I signed it "Dear Dave, thanks for the support, asshole"

Hi, my name is, my name is
(What? Who?)
My name is Slim Shady
Hi, my name is, my name is
(Huh? What?)
My name is Slim Shady

Stop the tape, this kid needs to be locked away
(Get him)
Dr. Dre, don't just stand there, operate
I'm not ready to leave, it's too scary to die
(Fuck that)
I'll have to be carried inside the cemetery and buried alive

(Huh, yup)
Am I comin' or goin'? I can barely decide
I just drank a fifth of vodka, dare me to drive?
(Go ahead)
All my life I was very deprived
I ain't had a woman in years and my palms are too hairy to hide

Clothes ripped like the Incredible Hulk
(Hachhh-too)
I spit when I talk, I'll fuck anything that walks
(C'mere)
When I was little I used to get so hungry I would throw fits

How you gonna breast feed me, mom?
(Wah)
You ain't got no tits
(Wah)
I lay awake and strap myself in the bed
Put a bulletproof vest on and shoot myself in the head

I'm steamin' mad
And by the way when you see my dad?
(Yeah?)
Tell him that I slit his throat in this dream I had

Hi, my name is, my name is
(What? Who?)
My name is Slim Shady
Hi, my name is, my name is
(Huh? What?)
My name is Slim Shady

Play the MP3 online for free!
368bf13290a0feb5037cad5f2687e8d2

Saturday, July 31, 2010

My Name Is.. (Radio/Video Edit) - Lyrics - Eminem

Title: My Name Is.. (Radio/Video Edit)
Artist: Eminem
Composer(s): Labi Siffre

Lyric:
Hi, my name is, my name is
(What? Who?)
My name is Slim Shady
Hi, my name is, my name is
(Huh? What?)
My name is Slim Shady

Ahem, excuse me
Can I have the attention of the class
For one second?

Hi kids, do you like violence?
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Wanna see me stick Nine Inch Nails
Through each one of my eyelids?
(Uh, huh)

Wanna copy me and do exactly like I did?
(Yeah, yeah)
Try 'cid and get fucked up worse that my life is?
(Huh?)

My brain's dead weight, I'm tryin' to get my head straight
But I can't figure out which Spice Girl I want to impregnate
(Umm)
And Dr. Dre said, "Slim Shady you a basehead"
Uh, uhh, So why's your face red? Man you wasted

Well, since age twelve, I've felt like I'm someone else
'Cause I hung my original self from the top bunk with a belt
Got pissed off and ripped Pamela Lee's tits off
And smacked her so hard
I knocked her clothes backwards like Kris Kross

I smoke a fat pound of grass and fall on my ass
Faster than a fat bitch who sat down too fast
C'mere slut
(Shady, wait a minute, that's my girl dog)
I don't give a fuck, God sent me to piss the world off
Hi, my name is, my name is

(What? Who?)
My name is Slim Shady
Hi, my name is, my name is
(Huh? What?)
My name is Slim Shady

My English teacher wanted to flunk me in junior high
Thanks a lot, next semester I'll be thirty-five
I smacked him in his face with an eraser, chased him with a stapler
And stapled his nuts to a stack of papers
(Oww)

Walked in the strip club, had my jacket zipped up
Flashed the bartender, then stuck my dick in the tip cup
Extraterrestrial, runnin' over pedestrians
In a spaceship while they screamin' at me, "Let's just be friends"

Ninety-nine percent of my life I was lied to
I just found out my mom does more dope than I do
(Damn)
I told her I'd grow up to be a famous rapper
Make a record about doin' drugs and name it after her
(Oh, thank you)

You know you blew up when the women rush your stands
And try to touch your hands like some screamin' Usher fans
(Aah)
This guy at White Castle asked for my autograph
(Dude, can I get your autograph?)
So I signed it "Dear Dave, thanks for the support, asshole"

Hi, my name is, my name is
(What? Who?)
My name is Slim Shady
Hi, my name is, my name is
(Huh? What?)
My name is Slim Shady

Stop the tape, this kid needs to be locked away
(Get him)
Dr. Dre, don't just stand there, operate
I'm not ready to leave, it's too scary to die
(Fuck that)
I'll have to be carried inside the cemetery and buried alive

(Huh, yup)
Am I comin' or goin'? I can barely decide
I just drank a fifth of vodka, dare me to drive?
(Go ahead)
All my life I was very deprived
I ain't had a woman in years and my palms are too hairy to hide

Clothes ripped like the Incredible Hulk
(Hachhh-too)
I spit when I talk, I'll fuck anything that walks
(C'mere)
When I was little I used to get so hungry I would throw fits

How you gonna breast feed me, mom?
(Wah)
You ain't got no tits
(Wah)
I lay awake and strap myself in the bed
Put a bulletproof vest on and shoot myself in the head

I'm steamin' mad
And by the way when you see my dad?
(Yeah?)
Tell him that I slit his throat in this dream I had

Hi, my name is, my name is
(What? Who?)
My name is Slim Shady
Hi, my name is, my name is
(Huh? What?)
My name is Slim Shady

Play the MP3 online for free!
ddac017ce43812381600cddfbf015a28

Thursday, August 19, 2010

My Name Is - Lyrics - Slim Shady LP - Eminem

Title: My Name Is
Album: Slim Shady LP
Artist: Eminem
Composer(s): Labi Siffre

Lyric:
Hi, my name is, my name is
(What? Who?)
My name is Slim Shady
Hi, my name is, my name is
(Huh? What?)
My name is Slim Shady

Ahem, excuse me
Can I have the attention of the class
For one second?

Hi kids, do you like violence?
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Wanna see me stick Nine Inch Nails
Through each one of my eyelids?
(Uh, huh)

Wanna copy me and do exactly like I did?
(Yeah, yeah)
Try 'cid and get fucked up worse that my life is?
(Huh?)

My brain's dead weight, I'm tryin' to get my head straight
But I can't figure out which Spice Girl I want to impregnate
(Umm)
And Dr. Dre said, "Slim Shady you a basehead"
Uh, uhh, So why's your face red? Man you wasted

Well, since age twelve, I've felt like I'm someone else
'Cause I hung my original self from the top bunk with a belt
Got pissed off and ripped Pamela Lee's tits off
And smacked her so hard
I knocked her clothes backwards like Kris Kross

I smoke a fat pound of grass and fall on my ass
Faster than a fat bitch who sat down too fast
C'mere slut
(Shady, wait a minute, that's my girl dog)
I don't give a fuck, God sent me to piss the world off
Hi, my name is, my name is

(What? Who?)
My name is Slim Shady
Hi, my name is, my name is
(Huh? What?)
My name is Slim Shady

My English teacher wanted to flunk me in junior high
Thanks a lot, next semester I'll be thirty-five
I smacked him in his face with an eraser, chased him with a stapler
And stapled his nuts to a stack of papers
(Oww)

Walked in the strip club, had my jacket zipped up
Flashed the bartender, then stuck my dick in the tip cup
Extraterrestrial, runnin' over pedestrians
In a spaceship while they screamin' at me, "Let's just be friends"

Ninety-nine percent of my life I was lied to
I just found out my mom does more dope than I do
(Damn)
I told her I'd grow up to be a famous rapper
Make a record about doin' drugs and name it after her
(Oh, thank you)

You know you blew up when the women rush your stands
And try to touch your hands like some screamin' Usher fans
(Aah)
This guy at White Castle asked for my autograph
(Dude, can I get your autograph?)
So I signed it "Dear Dave, thanks for the support, asshole"

Hi, my name is, my name is
(What? Who?)
My name is Slim Shady
Hi, my name is, my name is
(Huh? What?)
My name is Slim Shady

Stop the tape, this kid needs to be locked away
(Get him)
Dr. Dre, don't just stand there, operate
I'm not ready to leave, it's too scary to die
(Fuck that)
I'll have to be carried inside the cemetery and buried alive

(Huh, yup)
Am I comin' or goin'? I can barely decide
I just drank a fifth of vodka, dare me to drive?
(Go ahead)
All my life I was very deprived
I ain't had a woman in years and my palms are too hairy to hide

Clothes ripped like the Incredible Hulk
(Hachhh-too)
I spit when I talk, I'll fuck anything that walks
(C'mere)
When I was little I used to get so hungry I would throw fits

How you gonna breast feed me, mom?
(Wah)
You ain't got no tits
(Wah)
I lay awake and strap myself in the bed
Put a bulletproof vest on and shoot myself in the head

I'm steamin' mad
And by the way when you see my dad?
(Yeah?)
Tell him that I slit his throat in this dream I had

Hi, my name is, my name is
(What? Who?)
My name is Slim Shady
Hi, my name is, my name is
(Huh? What?)
My name is Slim Shady

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9650998ab7d03fc51c24ea5ad515198b

Dem Boyz - Lyrics - Boyz N da Hood - Boyz N Da Hood

Title: Dem Boyz
Album: Boyz N da Hood
Artist: Boyz N Da Hood
Composer(s): Jay Jenkins, Jacoby White, Zak Ry Wallace, Chadron Moore, Lee Dixon, Miguel . Scott

Lyric:
Bad Bouth South, Block Entertainment, Boyz N Da Hood
Is this right here? Y'all ready? Let's ride
Its Boyz N Da Hood nigga, as we proceed
To give y'all what y'all need

It's some Boyz N Da Hood sell anything for profit
Five in the morning on the corner clocking
Yeah, we wrong but dare a nigga try to stop us
And you can get it, anywhere anybody

Dem Boyz got work, Dem Boyz got yay
Dem Boyz got purp, Dem Boyz got haze
Dem Boyz got glocks, Dem Boyz got K's
Dem Boyz got blocks, Dem Boyz getting paid

If it's taking too long to lock up bring it back
You was short any way so bring a stack
And that shit was fucked up, I wouldn't even know
I ain't had ta open up a whole thing since '94, damn

We ain't tripping we'll swap it out
If it's still in the rap we'll swap it out
Let me hop off in the shower
And get myself together I gone need about a hour

I got real clientele
We ain't breaking shit down, we don't need no scales
He worth a mill on the low
Plus the weather man said that it's a light chance of snow

It's some Boyz N Da Hood sell anything for profit
Five in the morning on the corner clocking
Yeah, we wrong but dare a nigga try to stop us
And you can get it, anywhere anybody

Dem Boyz got work, Dem Boyz got yay
Dem Boyz got purp, Dem Boyz got haze
Dem Boyz got glocks, Dem Boyz got K's
Dem Boyz got blocks, Dem Boyz getting paid

Well, look into the eyes of a young gutta nigga
Loyal to the game out here trying to make a come up nigga
Serving lots of jay, cocking blocks
Knocking country niggaz out they Dr. Jay

Fucking wit a mobsta, cock sucka you popa
Just so you niggaz don't get it twisted
Just listen and pay attention
To one of the realest up out here

With ambition and on a mission
For getting Benjamins ready
And willing to put one of you out your misery
So bag back, the 44's in the dashboard

Trying to act bad will make me blast at your asshole
Nothing less nothing mo, I give you what you ask for
5 for the 50 nigga
Gone before I hit you nigga

It's some Boyz N Da Hood sell anything for profit
Five in the morning on the corner clocking
Yeah, we wrong but dare a nigga try to stop us
And you can get it, anywhere anybody

Dem Boyz got work, Dem Boyz got yay
Dem Boyz got purp, Dem Boyz got haze
Dem Boyz got glocks, Dem Boyz got K's
Dem Boyz got blocks, Dem Boyz getting paid

Yo, now I'm an East side resider, keep niggaz liver than powder
Stanking like clam chowder, if they thinking that they wilder
Every since I can remember, I been toting that timber
Keep the block hotter than July in the middle of December

Niggaz better know my M-O
From Houston down to the NO
Came a long ways from Lindberg's flying
The back of a Remo, you can catch Dukey posted up

Right off exit 65 with some real ass niggaz
Who ain't selling bean pies?
Just to get them green guys
Baby momas we hide

Catch them hoes by surprise
Froze with they mouth wide
Even tough guys get duck taped and hog tied
'Cause me, Jody, Jeezy and Gee gone always ride

It's some Boyz N Da Hood sell anything for profit
Five in the morning on the corner clocking
Yeah, we wrong but dare a nigga try to stop us
And you can get it, anywhere anybody

Dem Boyz got work, Dem Boyz got yay
Dem Boyz got purp, Dem Boyz got haze
Dem Boyz got glocks, Dem Boyz got K's
Dem Boyz got blocks, Dem Boyz getting paid

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Monday, August 9, 2010

Hey Ladies - Lyrics - It Ain't Safe No More... - Busta Rhymes

Title: Hey Ladies
Album: It Ain't Safe No More...
Artist: Busta Rhymes
Composer(s): Christopher Wallace, Steven Jordan, Sean Puffy Combs, Trevor Smith, Ralph Leverston

Lyric:
C'mon, yea
Snap your fingers, c'mon, yea
Here we go now, yea
C'mon, yea, check it

I said, "My solo jump off, been boomin' since nine-six"
My solo jump off, been boomin' since nine-six
Hittin' trippin' the circuit breaker, flickin' the light switch
The kid like is he known for givin' you wild hits
I keep my name on the way on top of the now list
Bangin' on every level, droppin' the now shit
It's like the feelin' after watchin' a couple of old flick
And once you hear the kid, you'll be knowin' the sound sick

Spaz in the club, watchin' the crowd flip
That's when I knew the crown was up for whoever the crown fit
Nowadays while I go bag me a fine bitch
Bitch watchin' my pocket, seein' we wild rich
Shorty hopin' we smellin' nothin' like foul fish
While you swingin' ass at the Devil, claimin' you righteous
A lot of haters I'm knowin' you like this
While you floss unnecessarily, sippin' on wild Crist'

I say "Ladies, my Mercedes"
Hold fo' in the back, two if you fat
Feel it all in your gut, your neck and your back
When you step up in the club I know you know how to act
Hey soldiers, get your floss on
Va-let in the lot, park the Yukon
Shorty shakin' her waist, and rippin' her thong
Now all my people are muggin' and singin' the song, I'm sayin'

Shit still boomin' in two-thousand and three
My shit still boomin' in two-thousand and three
And we don't give a fuck about who you claimin' to be
My jewels blind bitches where they ain't able to see
These fools try to talk just a little much to a G
They say the wrong shit, they head just might end upside of a tree
Clear my thoughts just a little, pass me a cup of tea
Takin' different constant boats, from the land to the sea

I got my paper see, I ain't doin' nuttin' for free
Unless it's for the hood, it might cost you a small fee
Niggaz all in the street, whylin' whippin' the V
Clever from New York to Chicago back to the D
Check it, take it back like when I was flippin' a key
Bonin' chicks, holdin' titties like they was Pamela Lee
You know I mastered the art and got it down to a tee
And keep it goin' add enough spice, we holdin' the recipe

Big paper we makin', all of my crew agree
Stack more and bust up a bottle of Hennessey
In case you niggaz ain't even knowin' my pedigree
Invested in resorts for the niggaz who go and ski
If you ain't know the streets is belongin' to me
I get my people from the hood and then take 'em all on a spree shoppin'
While you niggaz is busy coppin' the pleas
We busy blowin' frontin' like you ain't knowin' my stee'

I say "Ladies, my Mercedes"
Hold fo' in the back, two if you fat
Feel it all in your gut, your neck and your back
When you step up in the club I know you know how to act
Hey soldiers, get your floss on
Va-let in the lot, park the Yukon
Shorty shakin' her waist, and rippin' her thong
Now all my people are muggin' and singin' the song, I'm sayin'

Yea, snap yo' fingers, c'mon, yea
Here we go now, yea
C'mon

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