Stick 'Em Up - Lyrics - Quarashi

Title: Stick 'Em Up
Artist: Quarashi
Composer(s): Solvi Blondal, Hussi Olafsson, Omar Orn Hauksson

Lyric:
Until there was you we didn't know what to do
But I don't give a fuck about the things that I blew
Sucker MC don't you love me?
Wanna have me, wanna queue me, one two three

It's just a modest proposal from a boy anti-social
Scraping the skin of our culture, civilized vulture
Do me in, don't make me sin
I'm doing so good I can't go through it again

Yeah
Fuck in
He wants to fight, fuckin'

I bomb the mic like a fascist, Mussolini
Comin' through with no remorse, from the dark you won't see me
Rise up from the sea like a Godzilla
Straight up through your mind with my armor plated drilla

I don't give a fuck what you think about this shit, ain't
In it for the money never out to make a hit
If you can't take it like I said get a grip
'Cause I'm here to fucking stay like the warts on your dick

Come on
I stick 'em up
Just stick 'em up
Stick 'em up
I stick 'em up
Just stick 'em up
Stick 'em up
Just stick 'em up
Come on, come on, come on, come on yeah

Stick 'em up
Stick 'em up
I stick 'em up
Just stick 'em up
Stick 'em up
I stick 'em up
Just stick 'em up
Stick 'em up
Just stick 'em up
Stick 'em, stick 'em

So won't you make a man out of me
I've gotta be, connected computerized son of a bitch
Makes me itch, sucker for life
I can't decide darkness or light or just a heavenly fright

Stick it, I'm tired I'm bored,I'm fuckin' bored
I'm trying so hard and I can't be adored
So the sound brakes through from one tone
Gives me no choice I can't be alone

I stick 'em up
Just stick 'em up
Stick 'em up
I stick 'em up
Just stick 'em up
Stick 'em up
Just stick 'em up
Come on, come on, come on, come on yeah

Stick 'em up
Stick 'em up
I stick 'em up
Just stick 'em up
Stick 'em up
I stick 'em up
Just stick 'em up
I stick 'em up
Just stick 'em up, yeah
Come on, come on, come on, come on yeah

Like Darth Vader I surprise you with my skills
I knock your ol' ass out like a bag of sleeping pills
I got to rip things up like my name was Jack the Ripper
There's a party at your house cause your mama is a stripper

Slice through the scene like a knife through peanut butter
Get your ass cleaned out motherfucker I didn't stutter
S W A R E Z! I got this whole thing right down to a T

Come on, yeah
I stick 'em up
Just stick 'em up
Stick 'em up
I stick 'em up
Just stick 'em up
Stick 'em up
Just stick 'em up
Come on, come on, come on, come on yeah

Stick 'em up
Stick 'em up
I stick 'em up
Stick 'em up
Just stick 'em up
I stick 'em up
Just stick 'em up
Stick 'em up
Just stick 'em up
Come on, come on, come on, come on yeah

Stick 'em up
Stick 'em up
I stick 'em up
Just stick 'em up
Stick 'em up
I stick 'em up
Just stick 'em up
Stick 'em up
Just stick 'em up
Stick 'em up, stick 'em up

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796f85dcc95bded4e668973bb8ef6d32

Stick 'Em Up - Lyrics - Back For The First Time - Ludacris

Title: Stick 'Em Up
Album: Back For The First Time
Artist: Ludacris
Composer(s): Chad Butler, Christopher Bridges, Shondrae Crawford, Bernard Freeman

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

Lyric:
Yeah, nigga, got that Ludacris
Got that UGK, that Disturbing The Peace click
An' you know what I'm tired of?
These flashin' ass, flossin' ass niggas
So if you see one you know what you do?

Stick 'em up, stick 'em up, bitch, stick 'em up
Put ya hands up where I can see 'em, see 'em, see 'em
Stick 'em up, stick 'em up, bitch, stick 'em up
Target niggas, wouldn't wanna be 'em, be 'em, be 'em

Stick 'em up, stick 'em up, bitch, stick 'em up
Put ya hands up where I can see 'em, see 'em, see 'em
Stick 'em up, stick 'em up, bitch, stick 'em up
Target niggas, wouldn't wanna be 'em, be 'em, be 'em

I want the money an' the power, they hittin' me every hour
For the silt resin powder, chasin' them dirty dollars
I'm from Texas, nigga, it get hectic, nigga
People dependin' on me, I can't neglect it, niggas

'Cause the game is deeper than just workin' off the beeper
If the paper ain't right then we callin' a sweeper
To clean up the problems an' straighten the mess
So nigga, come wit ya pistol an' nigga, come wit ya vest

This ain't the east or the west, the 'Bama weed or the stress
I'm Young Pimp from Port Arthur an' we done passed the test
An' we smokin' the best, everywhere that we go
An' when our records come out, them bitches sell out the sto'

Stayin' throat on the 'dro an' keep that thang on the flo'
Want my money up front when we come for the show
Y'all can play wit ya paper but I'm dyin' for mine
So while y'all buyin' them watches, I'ma stay on the grind
Fuck, nigga

Stick 'em up, stick 'em up, bitch, stick 'em up
Put ya hands up where I can see 'em, see 'em, see 'em
Stick 'em up, stick 'em up, bitch, stick 'em up
Target niggas, wouldn't wanna be 'em, be 'em, be 'em

Stick 'em up, stick 'em up, bitch, stick 'em up
Put ya hands up where I can see 'em, see 'em, see 'em
Stick 'em up, stick 'em up, bitch, stick 'em up
Target niggas, wouldn't wanna be 'em, be 'em, be 'em

Hallow laid, hollow sprayed, I'm the Hollow Man
I get to the hollow point wit my hollow plan
Hollow bullets, I pull it, I'm about to live in vain
An' then I drill 'em, refill 'em, make sure they feel the pain

It's mighty strange how your peephole is my fuckin' gauge
Catch you in concert an' then wipe you off the fuckin' stage
I feel a ghetto rage, let's turn the ghetto page
My bitch will stick you wit ghetto metal stilleto thangs

An' I got a ghetto aim with diamond 'bezeled rangs
So while my index is workin', my pinky's blindin' thangs
I hit 'em at close range, I spit 'em at most brains
You think you real rich, nigga, we gonna make some chump change

You think it's a fuckin' game you think it's a blood sport
You gaspin' for breath an' I'm puffin' on one of these Newports
An' I see a red dot aimed at yo' head
Then bright lights, oh, no, po'-po' an' guess what they said
They said

Stick 'em up, stick 'em up, bitch, stick 'em up
Put ya hands up where I can see 'em, see 'em, see 'em
Stick 'em up, stick 'em up, bitch, stick 'em up
Target niggas, wouldn't wanna be 'em, be 'em, be 'em

Stick 'em up, stick 'em up, bitch, stick 'em up
Put ya hands up where I can see 'em, see 'em, see 'em
Stick 'em up, stick 'em up, bitch, stick 'em up
Target niggas, wouldn't wanna be 'em, be 'em, be 'em

Say nigga, you think it's a joke? Trill niggas be goin' for broke
Twist this whistle, loc an' them mothafuckin' pistols smoke
An' it's just a matter of time before you labeled a busta
Adjust the nigga that couldn't catch up an' cut the mustard

Now I got confidence, I don't need no condiments
All I need is common sense to see through your incompetence
Nigga, keep your compliments they don't flatter me
You fuckin' with me? An' that'll be the day, bitch
We don't play, you know where the gat'll be

Right on the side of me, right where it's 'posed to be
Bitch, niggas die for me just for gettin' too close to me
So kiss your rosary beads an' sing a silent one
'Cause I promise if you get it it's gone be a violent one

Coroner catchin' his breath like he's got asthma
When they cut on the blue light an' see all that fuckin' plasma
Millenium Murda Master, nigga, I ain't new to this
So when you see that Bun-B, Young Pimp or that Ludacris
You just

Stick 'em up, stick 'em up, bitch, stick 'em up
Put ya hands up where I can see 'em, see 'em, see 'em
Stick 'em up, stick 'em up, bitch, stick 'em up
Target niggas, wouldn't wanna be 'em, be 'em, be 'em

Stick 'em up, stick 'em up, bitch, stick 'em up
Put ya hands up where I can see 'em, see 'em, see 'em
Stick 'em up, stick 'em up, bitch, stick 'em up
Target niggas, wouldn't wanna be 'em, be 'em, be 'em

ATL, the PAT, UGK an' DTP
I wouldn't wanna be 'em, be 'em, be 'em
Shawn Drey, I 20, Ludacris an' Fake Fees
I wouldn't wanna be 'em, be 'em, be 'em

Down South, how we do it? Pimp C an' Bun-B
I wouldn't wanna be 'em, be 'em, be 'em
Roll trees, ride Ds, make cheese an' shake fleas
I wouldn't wanna be 'em, be 'em, be 'em

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d86af15c8316fb15a4005b7fb00caffd

Stomp - Lyrics - Ruff Ryders

Title: Stomp
Artist: Ruff Ryders
Composer(s): Andrews Young Kaseem Dean

Lyric:
Wun, y'all done fucked up now
Oh, shit, 'Ryde Or Die', nigga

It's Yung Wun with the big gun
What you gon' do, boy?
You betta sit down, boy, we don't play like that
Betta yet tell ya man to put down the gat

Before it get ugly, I'ma leave ya bloody, lil' bloody
Don't play with the gun smoke
For the East to the West Coast
Nigga get [unverified], no problem, Barry

You no cemetery, home
Is the pipe bomb dropped off in the woods
A man to come home, it's a three be like that
Tell his ass to come right back to the block with a gat

Standing out in the track with a bumma hard
Bumming weed into the sack
Nigga, let the weed smoke blow
I'm intoxicated trying to make a few hits in the head

Baby 'cause I be wilder, big baller, call up with quarter
Trying to make a few [unverified]
Be borrowing from the police, never wanna follow
And parlor and it ain't no stopping it
(That's shit)
Y'all niggas from [unverified], ain't locking it

Give it up, give it up, g-g-give it up
Them cops on put and they came to town
Y'all boys betta put 'em up, put 'em up, what?
Put 'em up, put 'em up, p-p-put 'em up
This is a stick up and y'all boys betta give it up

Give it up, give it up, g-g-give it up
Them cops on put and they came to town
Y'all boys betta put 'em up, put 'em up, what?
Put 'em up, put 'em up, p-p-put 'em up
This is a stick up and y'all boys betta give it up

Look, I'm slipping right behind ya, nigga
Don't try to hide 'cause I'll find ya, nigga
I'm representing Big County, nigga
I gotta a clip for all ya slimmy niggas

Don't eva try me, nigga
Don't try to run no bullshit like that [unverified], nigga
You know I'ma a fool for this, I gots two for this
I'll tear yo' mammy and your crew plus you for this

Them Daddy dollars, y'all, my shit harder, dog
I'm from the city of Caprice and them parlors, y'all
I'ma go and kill this, nigga, kiss above this realest, nigga
First nigga to take you to the bar
And now you feel this, nigga

The respect you gotta give us
'Slip-N-Slide' and Ruff Ryders, nigga
And all yo' money can't buy this nigga
My ecstasy got me wyling, nigga
I'm twice that body, nigga
About 100 miles an hour, nigga

Trick Daddy, Trick Daddy
Yung Wun, Yung Wun
Yo, ball out

Give it up, give it up, g-g-give it up
Them cops on put and they came to town
Y'all boys betta put 'em up, what?
Put 'em up, put 'em up, p-p-put 'em up
This is a stick up and y'all boys betta give it up

Give it up, give it up, g-g-give it up
Them cops on put and they came to town
Y'all boys betta put 'em up, what?
Put 'em up, put 'em up, p-p-put 'em up
This is a stick up and y'all boys betta give it up

Wait a minute, goddammit, y'all done fucked up now
Y'all gotta nigga from the A on the Ruff Ryde
Representing from the South
In a glass [unverified]

This man got cash in mind on the cash route
Niggas there with they ass out
Talking 'bout Yung Wun's a bitch
(Man)
That DS Cliq, I'ma 'bout to pitch a fucking fit
And start blowing this bitch

What you think my gun bust ice, Wun?
Down in Georgia, six hours from Florida
Niggas get slaughtered, boy, where I'm from
Problems gon' get solved by getting robbed

Causing tear drops and closed caskets
On tha glasses, get beside theyself
And suffocate from plastic
Face down on a mattress

Give it up, give it up, g-g-give it up
Them cops on put and they came to town
Y'all boys betta put 'em up, put 'em up, what?
Put 'em up, put 'em up, p-p-put 'em up
This is a stick up and y'all boys betta give it up

Give it up, give it up, g-g-give it up
Them cops on put and they came to town
Y'all boys betta put 'em up, put 'em up, what?
Put 'em up, put 'em up, p-p-put 'em up
This is a stick up and y'all boys betta give it up

Give it up, give it up, g-g-give it up
Them cops on put and they came to town
Y'all boys betta put 'em up, put 'em up, what?
Put 'em up, put 'em up, p-p-put 'em up
This is a stick up and y'all boys betta give it up

Give it up, give it up, g-g-give it up
Them cops on put and they came to town
Y'all boys betta put 'em up, put 'em up, what?
Put 'em up, put 'em up, p-p-put 'em up
This is a stick up and y'all boys betta give it up

Give it up, give it up, g-g-give it up
Them cops on put and they came to town
Y'all boys betta put 'em up, put 'em up, what?
Put 'em up, put 'em up, p-p-put 'em up
This is a stick up and y'all boys betta give it up

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4fa4db1d117ff322cb02e3152aaa7c81

Blackout - Lyrics - Blackout! (with Redman) - Method Man

Title: Blackout
Album: Blackout! (with Redman)
Artist: Method Man
Composer(s): Erick Sermon, Ronald Miller, Damon Wimbley, Darren Robinson, Kurt Walker, Clifford Smith, Mark Morales, Reggie Noble, William Waring

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

Lyric:
Yo yo yo yo, it's Funk Doc, where the weed at, bitch?
I speed backwards down a one-way from cops, see that shit?
Believe that shit, slaughter, straight to camcorder
I'm 'Too Hot for TV', rap draw water

My windpipe's attached to project ballers
You yell, "Turn the heat down"
My voice, DVD 'round sound so I'm heard round town
And chances of y'all leavin'? 'Round now

Wait later, will make front page paper
Date raper with juvenile eighth graders
Hit the high school and 187 Caesar
When I bust, y'all need to back fo' acres

Doc y'all and that's my man Jabberjaw
The shit list ready, who next to scratch off?
I'm from the underground, my sound lift
Platform shoes to bitches, fo'-hundred pounds

Get up, stand up, back up, push up
Jump up, act up to make y'all feel it
Stick 'em, stick 'em, stick 'em, stick 'em

Yo, blackout, shoot out, smoked out, move out
Even knocked your tooth out to make y'all feel it
Stick 'em, stick 'em, stick 'em, stick 'em

And I'm the street-talkin', dog-walkin'
Approach me with extreme caution, oh, now you forcin'
My hand to Rock, yo' Cradle often, I'm hot-scorchin'
But 'Stone Cold' like Steve Austin

If you smell what Tical cookin'
Ain't tryin' to see central bookin' so tell ya goon stop lookin'
'Know What You Did Last Summer', so I started hookin'
You past shooken off an open can of ass-whoopin'

Ain't no tomorrow's in the Method's 'Little Shop of Horrors'
Go ask your father who the father from the hill to harbor
You know tha saga, marijuana blunts and Goldschlager
With deadly medley, y'all ain't ready for Shakwon and Reggie

Don't even bother, the radio for back-up, alright then
Your man got slapped up, extorted for his ice an'
Street life is triflin', body over here
Don't make me pull a Tyson and bite a nigga ear

Precise an', slicin' jugulars, the 'Cutthroat'
Ruggeder, 'Predator', Viking, etcetera
People's Champ, niggaz be takin' on competitors

Reachin' for the microphone, relax and light a bone
Straight from the catacomb, the 'Children of the Corn'
That don't got a 'CLUE', prepare for 'Desert Storm'

Get up, stand up, back up, push up
Jump up, act up to make y'all feel it
Stick 'em, stick 'em, stick 'em, stick 'em

Yo, blackout, shoot out, smoked out, move out
Even knocked your tooth out to make y'all feel it
Stick 'em, stick 'em, stick 'em, stick 'em

I scored 1.1 on my SAT
And still push a whip with a right and left AC
Gorilla, Big Dog, if my name get called
I'm behind the brick wall with arsenic jaws

Spit poison, got a gun permit draw
Gun down at sundown, you keep score
This trainin' course and y'all ain't fit
On my crew tombstone put, we all ain't shit

Yo, all you gonnabe, wannabe, when will you learn?
Wanna be Doc and Meth? Gotta wait your turn
I spit a .41 revolver on New Year's Eve
With the mic in my hand I mutilate MC's

The most slept on since Rip Van Wink
My shit stink with every element from A to Z so what you think?
I'ma blackout on just one drink you must be crazy
A little off the wall maybe, go, get a shrink

Get up, stand up, back up, push up
Jump up, act up to make y'all feel it
Stick 'em, stick 'em, stick 'em, stick 'em

Yo, blackout, shoot out, smoked out, move out
Even knocked your tooth out to make y'all feel it
Stick 'em, stick 'em, stick 'em, stick 'em

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5620ad06680ce2c959789a3fa098fbc8

Get It Up (Remix) - Lyrics - Sticky Fingaz

Title: Get It Up (Remix)
Artist: Sticky Fingaz
Composer(s): Kirk Jones, George Spivey

Lyric:
Damn, is y'all ready to go up in here?
Alright, pull the black mask down
We 'bout to rush the door
Ah shit, hide your jewelry
I told y'all we was coming
Yo everybody watch out, word up

Get it up, huh
The ice on ya wrist player, pick it up, huh
My killers in the cut coast, stick 'em up, huh
Ladies grab your shirts and lift 'em up, huh
Lemme see your ass baby, back it up, huh

My soldiers on the front line actin' up, huh
Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh
Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh
Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh

Yo Sticky Fingaz, word out
I told y'all niggas, yo come on

Hennesied up, play the cut, lightin' it up
Rag on my head, eyes lookin' half way dead
Brought my thugs to the club, straight off the street
I'm iceburg to my feet about a third of the week

Relax baby, don't spazz 'cuz he touched your ass
I ain't say shit when your friend touched my dick
I see Brooklyn schemin', we all in the spot
But that's hip hop, we rap niggaz from off the block

Is it me or is it gettin' hot in here?
I think somebody 'bout to get shot in here
The nine mill guaranteed to clear the spot in here
And we ain't get searched kid, we got glocks in here

Somebody bring me to the hoe suckin' cocks in here
I think they trying to shut it down, I seen cops in here
I'm the hottest shit Universal got this year
And all my niggaz rockin' rocks in here, come on

Get it up, huh
The ice on ya wrist player, pick it up, huh
My killers in the cut coast, stick 'em up, huh
Ladies grab your shirts and lift 'em up, huh
Lemme see your ass, baby, back it up, huh

My soldiers on the front line actin' up, huh
Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh
Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh
Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh

Black Trash, yo kick that old real shit
That Queens shit nigga

Fire marshall said it's too packed, nigga fuck the law
And the guest list, niggaz 'bout to rush the door
Got cats online in ties and suits
We come through VIP and button flies and boots

Everybody gettin' comped, I ain't paying no admission
Sticky Fingaz, I can't even pay attention
Love the freaks that tweek and be liftin' it up
Love the freaks that creep and be givin' it up

I got twelve inches, I'm well hung
Nine on my dick and three on my toungue
My manager, the bitch name is Helen Wate
Need a free show? Nigga go to hell and wait

And if God only helped those that help themselves
When I see somethin', I want 'em, I help myself
So unless you and me come to a understanding
You gonna be under, and I'ma be standin'

Get it up, huh
The ice on ya wrist player, pick it up, huh
My killers in the cut coast, stick 'em up, huh
Ladies grab your shirts and lift 'em up, huh
Lemme see your ass, baby, back it up, huh

My soldiers on the front line actin' up, huh
Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh
Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh
Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh

Word up, we takin' all y'a money
We takin' all y'a bitches, what y'all thought it was?

I'm so hot to death, I'll probably get shot to death
Fuck who the cops arrest my killers is rough
Shoot up the club like Puff, niggaz'll duck
Chains tucked, Timbs get scuffed

I pull a four-four from out of the seat
Up out it and beat, picture me not ridin' with heat
Jump out of the Jeep, clear a nigga out of the street
Nobody can creep thirty deep nigga, I'm out of your reach

Ain't nothing but killers boastin' next to me
I'm prejudice, I hate every colors except for green
In the club, that's were my niggaz jewelry shop
When the hammer cock, we don't care who we box

So why you come to the club, what you livin' it up?
Why you fuckin' with that chicken, was she givin' it up?
Why you even cop jewels, what you can't get stuck?
Why you never say when, you ain't had enough?

Get it up, huh
The ice on ya wrist player pick it up, huh
My killers in the cut coast, stick 'em up, huh
Ladies grab your shirts and lift 'em up, huh
Lemme see your ass, baby, back it up, huh

My soldiers on the front line actin' up, huh
Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh
Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh
Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh

Let's go, get it up

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c30b1001bc668e5d68f5fea6093633c2

Get It Up (Snoop Remix) - Lyrics - Sticky Fingaz

Title: Get It Up (Snoop Remix)
Artist: Sticky Fingaz
Composer(s): Kirk Jones, George Spivey

Lyric:
Damn, is y'all ready to go up in here?
Alright, pull the black mask down
We 'bout to rush the door
Ah shit, hide your jewelry
I told y'all we was coming
Yo everybody watch out, word up

Get it up, huh
The ice on ya wrist player, pick it up, huh
My killers in the cut coast, stick 'em up, huh
Ladies grab your shirts and lift 'em up, huh
Lemme see your ass baby, back it up, huh

My soldiers on the front line actin' up, huh
Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh
Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh
Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh

Yo Sticky Fingaz, word out
I told y'all niggas, yo come on

Hennesied up, play the cut, lightin' it up
Rag on my head, eyes lookin' half way dead
Brought my thugs to the club, straight off the street
I'm iceburg to my feet about a third of the week

Relax baby, don't spazz 'cuz he touched your ass
I ain't say shit when your friend touched my dick
I see Brooklyn schemin', we all in the spot
But that's hip hop, we rap niggaz from off the block

Is it me or is it gettin' hot in here?
I think somebody 'bout to get shot in here
The nine mill guaranteed to clear the spot in here
And we ain't get searched kid, we got glocks in here

Somebody bring me to the hoe suckin' cocks in here
I think they trying to shut it down, I seen cops in here
I'm the hottest shit Universal got this year
And all my niggaz rockin' rocks in here, come on

Get it up, huh
The ice on ya wrist player, pick it up, huh
My killers in the cut coast, stick 'em up, huh
Ladies grab your shirts and lift 'em up, huh
Lemme see your ass, baby, back it up, huh

My soldiers on the front line actin' up, huh
Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh
Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh
Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh

Black Trash, yo kick that old real shit
That Queens shit nigga

Fire marshall said it's too packed, nigga fuck the law
And the guest list, niggaz 'bout to rush the door
Got cats online in ties and suits
We come through VIP and button flies and boots

Everybody gettin' comped, I ain't paying no admission
Sticky Fingaz, I can't even pay attention
Love the freaks that tweek and be liftin' it up
Love the freaks that creep and be givin' it up

I got twelve inches, I'm well hung
Nine on my dick and three on my toungue
My manager, the bitch name is Helen Wate
Need a free show? Nigga go to hell and wait

And if God only helped those that help themselves
When I see somethin', I want 'em, I help myself
So unless you and me come to a understanding
You gonna be under, and I'ma be standin'

Get it up, huh
The ice on ya wrist player, pick it up, huh
My killers in the cut coast, stick 'em up, huh
Ladies grab your shirts and lift 'em up, huh
Lemme see your ass, baby, back it up, huh

My soldiers on the front line actin' up, huh
Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh
Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh
Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh

Word up, we takin' all y'a money
We takin' all y'a bitches, what y'all thought it was?

I'm so hot to death, I'll probably get shot to death
Fuck who the cops arrest my killers is rough
Shoot up the club like Puff, niggaz'll duck
Chains tucked, Timbs get scuffed

I pull a four-four from out of the seat
Up out it and beat, picture me not ridin' with heat
Jump out of the Jeep, clear a nigga out of the street
Nobody can creep thirty deep nigga, I'm out of your reach

Ain't nothing but killers boastin' next to me
I'm prejudice, I hate every colors except for green
In the club, that's were my niggaz jewelry shop
When the hammer cock, we don't care who we box

So why you come to the club, what you livin' it up?
Why you fuckin' with that chicken, was she givin' it up?
Why you even cop jewels, what you can't get stuck?
Why you never say when, you ain't had enough?

Get it up, huh
The ice on ya wrist player pick it up, huh
My killers in the cut coast, stick 'em up, huh
Ladies grab your shirts and lift 'em up, huh
Lemme see your ass, baby, back it up, huh

My soldiers on the front line actin' up, huh
Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh
Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh
Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh

Let's go, get it up

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f91d03649ec1db940027a9b7567cf060

Stomp - Lyrics - Ryde Or Die: Vol.2 - Dmx

Title: Stomp
Album: Ryde Or Die: Vol.2
Artist: Dmx
Composer(s): Andrews Young Kaseem Dean

Lyric:
One
Y'all done fucked up now
Oh shit, ryde or die nigga

Its Yung Wun with the big gun, what you gon do boy
You betta sit down boy we don't play like that
Betta yet tell ya man to put down the gat
Before it get ugly, I'ma leave ya bloody, lil' bloody

Don't play with the gun smoke
For the East to the West Coast
Nigga get [unverified] no problem Barry
You no cemetery, home
Is the pipe bomb dropped off in the woods
A man to come home

It's a three be like that
Tell his ass to come right back to the block with a gat
Standin' out in the track with a bumma hard
Bummin' weed into the sack

Nigga let the weed smoke blow
I'm intoxicated trying to make a few hits in the head
Baby, cause I be wilder, big baller call up with quarter
Trying to make a few [unverified] be borrowing from the police

Never wanna follow and parlor
(That's Shit)
And it ain't no stoppin' it
Y'all niggas from [unverified] ain't lockin' it

Give it up, give it up, g-g-give it up
Them cops on put and they came to town
Y'all boys betta put em up, put em up what
Put 'em up, put em up, p-p-put em up
This is a stick up and y'all boys betta give it up

Give it up, give it up, g-g-give it up
Them cops on put and they came to town
Y'all boys betta put em up, put em up what
Put 'em up, put em up, p-p-put em up
This is a stick up and y'all boys betta give it up

Look, I'm slippin' right behind ya nigga
Don't try to hide cause I'll find ya nigga
I'm representin' big county nigga
I gotta a clip for all ya slimy niggas
Don't eva try me nigga
Don't try to run no bull shit like that [unverified] nigga

You know I'ma a fool for this, I gots two for this
I'll tear yo mammy and your crew plus you for this
Them Daddy dollars y'all, my shit harder dog
I'm from the city of Caprise and them parlors y'all

I'ma go and kill this nigga
Kiss above this realest nigga
First nigga to take you to the bar
And now you feel this nigga
The respect you gotta give us

Slip n slide and ruff ryders nigga
And all yo money can't buy this nigga
My exctacy got me willin' nigga
I'm twice that body nigga
About 100 miles an hour nigga

Trick Daddy, Trick Daddy
Yung Wun, Yung Wun
Yo, Ball Out

Give it up, give it up, g-g-give it up
Them cops on put and they came to town
Y'all boys betta put em up, put em up what
Put 'em up, put em up, p-p-put em up
This is a stick up and y'all boys betta give it up

Give it up, give it up, g-g-give it up
Them cops on put and they came to town
Y'all boys betta put em up, put em up what
Put 'em up, put em up, p-p-put em up
This is a stick up and y'all boys betta give it up

Aah, wait a minute God dammit
Y'all done fucked up now
Y'all gotta nigga from the A on the Ruff Ryde
Representin' from the South in a glass [unverified]

This man got cash in mind on the cash route
Niggas there with they ass out
Talkin' bout Yung Wun's a bitch
(Man)
That DS Clique I'ma bout to pitch a fuckin fit

And start blowin' this bitch
What you think my gun bust ice one
Down in Georgia, six hours from Florida
Niggas get slaughtered, boy where I'm from

Problems gon get solved by getting robbed
'Causin' tear drops and closed caskets
On tha glasses get beside thyself
And suffocate from plastic face down on a mattress

Give it up, give it up, g-g-give it up
Them cops on put and they came to town
Y'all boys betta put em up, put em up what
Put 'em up, put em up, p-p-put em up
This is a stick up and y'all boys betta give it up

Give it up, give it up, g-g-give it up
Them cops on put and they came to town
Y'all boys betta put em up, put em up what
Put 'em up, put em up, p-p-put em up
This is a stick up and y'all boys betta give it up

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77a60d4c4ce7c3f0520115b5b82bdd51

Hit 'Em - Lyrics - Fantastic Voyage: The Greatest Hits - Coolio

Title: Hit 'Em
Album: Fantastic Voyage: The Greatest Hits
Artist: Coolio
Composer(s): James Carter, Artis Ivey, M Morales, D Robinson, John Austin, D Wimbley, S Charles, S Williams

Lyric:
It has come to my understanding that
There are those who'd question my skillz and abilities
Since it is thus, I must release it myself
Forth with be thou reprimanded, hit 'em

Hocus, focus on the mighty mic loco
Me and the Forty dump yo ass like a pogo
You better kick it 'cause I been workin' on my mojo
Make your crew disappear like Dorothy and Toto

You're trippin' on me because your girl want my photo
Nigga, you better chill before I send my homie home with your hoe
Fools get careened when they steps into my dojo
It's the ghetto witch doctor sprinklin' herbs on the voco'

I deliver hits like my name was Fuji Moto
Platinum and gold, all the way to Acalpuco
To all rappers international, domestic and local
Step to the fo, get your ass rolled up like a Rollo

Your points need bifocals, you better try to see like Total
My name ain't Ralph Lauren but I'll play your ass like polo
I kick a solo from here to Sojo
You ain't no man eater, nigga, so your hoe style is no go

Rrrr, stick 'em, ha ha ha, stick 'em
Rrrr, stick 'em, ha ha ha, stick 'em
Rrrr, stick 'em, ha ha ha, stick 'em
Rrrr, stick 'em, hit 'em

Rrrr, stick 'em, ha ha ha, stick 'em
Rrrr, stick 'em, ha ha ha, stick 'em
Rrrr, stick 'em, ha ha ha, stick 'em
Rrrr, hit 'em, hit 'em

I'm stickin' niggaz like Mexican's in penitentiaries
The niggaz is flinchin', see everytime the homies mention me
Grew up off Avalon and Century with a hundred ways of illegal entry
Can't injure me, my momma fucked the Unibomber
That's why I'm blowin' shit to smithereens

I'm like the nigga flying guillotine
The illest things I bring that not even DeVante could swing
Before a nigga serve me, his seventy-six is a winter green
Fuck your team, crowbar eatin' niggaz up like Edy, I mean

It's time we started servin' niggaz like they was dope fiends
I smoke all label rosters when I rock like the thing
In the bucket doin' ninety-five like Rodney King

Extreme antimostity, your ultimate adversary
I'm like white blood cells fightin' H.I.V. inside a capillary
I'll beat that ass blindfolded like a pinata, scary
My prom night, I was fuckin' Carrie, had her screamin', "Bloody Mary"

Rrrr, stick 'em, ha ha ha, stick 'em
Rrrr, stick 'em, ha ha ha, stick 'em
Rrrr, stick 'em, ha ha ha, stick 'em
Rrrr, stick 'em, hit 'em

Rrrr, stick 'em, ha ha ha, stick 'em
Rrrr, stick 'em, ha ha ha, stick 'em
Rrrr, stick 'em, ha ha ha, stick 'em
Rrrr, hit 'em, hit 'em

Ay, wait, wait, wait, wait

It ain't ova, I burn like a nova
It's the all see Mona like motherfuckin' Yoda
I rock like baking soda from Compton to Dakota
When I drop I'm gonna crush all these busta's like a boulda

So grab your hoe and see if you can hold her
I put bitches and pets on a fantastic voyage on a ship like Noah
I told ya, I'm a soldier, wake that ass up like Folger's
Give the people what they want a little bit more-a

You don't know the score, what the hell you comin' here for?
Whip that ass like grandpa used to do when he was sore
It's the hardcore, take your whole hood to war
It's time for all the bitch ass niggaz to hit the door

Go home and get your pen and brush upon your metaphors
It's the forty musketeer, cuttin' that ass up with swords
You be the prey, I'll be the predator
Bring the feather to that ass, so niggaz call me Thor

Rrrr, stick 'em, ha ha ha, stick 'em
Rrrr, stick 'em, ha ha ha, stick 'em
Rrrr, stick 'em, ha ha ha, stick 'em
Rrrr, stick 'em, hit 'em

Rrrr, stick 'em, ha ha ha, stick 'em
Rrrr, stick 'em, ha ha ha, stick 'em
Rrrr, stick 'em, ha ha ha, stick 'em
Rrrr, hit 'em, hit 'em

[Incomprehensible]

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57f57d0560da7f00488ff8967b9171a9

Hands Up - Lyrics - Elephunk - Black Eyed Peas

Title: Hands Up
Album: Elephunk
Artist: Black Eyed Peas
Composer(s): Jean Baptiste, Jaime Gomez, Will Adams, Michael Fratantuno, B May, Allan Pineda, George Jr Pajon, Moises Vivanco

Lyric:
Hands up, comin' with rhythms to make your head jerk
Hands up, we makin? the whole joint short circuit
Hands high, touch the sky, get 'em up, get 'em up
Get 'em up, get 'em up, get 'em up, get ?em up, get 'em up

We goin? make you move, we goin? make it hot
Elbows above your heads peoples, we holdin? up the spot
We goin? get it goin', even if y?all don?t be knowin'
"Y?all don?t be knowin?", 'cuz this shit that we throwin'
Get going gone retarded

Start it up, banging out hits now we chartin? up
Didn?t mean bump ya? pardon us
Diggin? this cut 'cuz we sharpened up
You dumbin' it down we smartened it up
We penetrate even though your guard was up
Get down to the peas 'cuz we fallin? up
Electric 'cuz we like chargin' up

We the, B.E.Peas uh, rhythmic sonic pleaser
Getcha, hot like fever, boilin' two hundred degrees ahh
You're burnin' up heats getting low let me turn it up
Let me fuck up your ear till my sperm is up
In your brain and the baby will I'am?s be sayin'

Hands up, coming with rhythms to make your head jerk
Hands up, we makin? the whole joint short circuit
Hands high, touch the sky, get 'em up, get 'em up
Get 'em up, get 'em up, get 'em up, get ?em up, get 'em up

Hands up, comin' with rhythms to make your head jerk
Hands up, we makin? the whole joint short circuit
Hands high, touch the sky, get 'em up, get 'em up
Get 'em up, get 'em up, get 'em up, get ?em up, get 'em up

Ah, people, tabamatic flows deeper than Atlantic o?s
Apl de ap got ridiculous flows
Catchin? rhythm makin? ?em grow
Mathematic apl will go, up in the scene we original
You know what I mean BEP mineral
Stormin? strong for the several

Barricade laid for you terribles, ho, I'm the chief Filipino
Letting you know we about to blow, will I'am, ap and tab double o
Set 'em up, shut 'em down, get 'em up, time for us to raise it up
Never going down always headin? up
Raise your hands 'cuz we blaze it up

Anybody here who waited long, to you I dedicate this song
Ain?t nothin' wrong gotta make it right
Straight to the point this is the new joint
And you know this is the jam y?all, come on down and dance y?all
Have a ball y?all, throw your hands up

Hands up, comin' with rhythms to make your head jerk
Hands up, we makin? the whole joint short circuit
Hands high, touch the sky, get 'em up, get 'em up
Get 'em up, get 'em up, get 'em up, get ?em up, get 'em up

Hands up, coming with rhythms to make your head jerk
Hands up, we makin? the whole joint short circuit
Hands high, touch the sky, get 'em up, get 'em up
Get 'em up, get 'em up, get 'em up, get ?em up, get 'em up

Black Eyed Peas will announce, some things that you can?t avoid
You need to ba ba ba bounce to this, ba ba ba ba bounce to our joint
We come with more than an ounce, more like a tone full of noise
So ba ba ba ba bounce to this, ba ba ba ba bounce to our joint
We came getcha getcha, bouncin? so getcha getcha
Ass up we gotcha gotcha, movin? lets make it hotta?
Hotta? then moltin? lava, bubblin? like boilin? water, ahh

Hands up, comin' with rhythms to make your head jerk
Hands up, we makin? the whole joint short circuit
Hands high, touch the sky, get 'em up, get 'em up
Get 'em up, get 'em up, get 'em up, get ?em up, get 'em up

Hands up, comin' with rhythms to make your head jerk
Hands up, we makin? the whole joint short circuit
Hands high, touch the sky, get 'em up, get 'em up
Get 'em up, get 'em up, get 'em up, get ?em up, get 'em up

Hands up, getcha hands up
Get your hands in the air like it?s a stick up
Hands up, getcha hands up
The reason why they up b'cuz we rip shit up

We do reggae, reggae, reggae, reggae, reggae, reggae, ra
The heggae, heggae, heggae, heggae, heggae, heggae, ha
The reggae, reggae, reggae, reggae, reggae, reggae, ra
The reggae, reggae, reggae, reggae, reggae, reggae
...

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1be436689b3fdce3f117425deeb12b7b

Boyhunter - Lyrics - Sound Soldier - Skye Sweetnam

Title: Boyhunter
Album: Sound Soldier
Artist: Skye Sweetnam
Composer(s): Lauren Christy, Scott Spock, Skye Sweetnam, Graham Edwards

Lyric:
Get on your knees, hands up, get em' up
Get on your knees, hands up, stick em' up
Get on your knees, hands up, get em' up
Get on your knees, hands up, stick em' up

Damn, I didn't do it, no, I never did it
No, I swear it's an accident
My weekend hobby, yeah, no one stop me
Was out in my truck at night and I said

Get on your knees, hands up, boys
I just love sayin' that, I'll say it again
Get on your knees, hands up, boys
That's right, that's right

Was only aiming, was only pointing
But I was only looking, looking
?Cause I'm a boyhunter, a boyhunter, a boyhunter
I need a boy tonight

Get on your knees, hands up, boys
I just love sayin' that, I'll say it again
Get on your knees, hands up, boys
That's right, that's right

Good looking, good looking
Mad shocking, mad shocking
Hard rocking, hip hoppin'
Boy, tonight, get ?em up

I couldn't help it, just couldn't stop it
Guess something must've come over me
My midnight joyride caught you in headlights
I had to take you home with me and I said

Get on your knees, hands up, boys
I just love sayin' that, I'll say it again
Get on your knees, hands up, boys
That's right, that's right

Was only watchin', was only wonderin'
Yes, I was only looking, looking
?Cause I'm a boyhunter, a boyhunter, a boyhunter
I need a boy tonight

Get on your knees, hands up, boys
I just love sayin' that, I'll say it again
Get on your knees, hands up, boys
That's right, that's right

Get on your knees, hands up, get em' up
Get on your knees, hands up, stick em' up
Get on your knees, hands up, get em' up
Get on your knees, hands up, stick em' up

Sing, diddy, diddy, baby, don't act dumb
Get on your knees, put your hands up when I come
Skye and I, seeking you out for your tongue
You try to run and I hunt you down but I?m okay

Hey, I look so good
Try to hide from us, boy, I wish you would
Hop in my ride, take you far in the woods
And let you bury your bone like a big dog should

Get on your knees, hands up, boys
I just love sayin' that, don't make me say it again
?Cause I'm in it to win, I'm just dissin? my aim
Hunt you down, turn you into a man

Was only aiming, was only pointing
But I was only looking, looking
?Cause I'm a boyhunter, a boyhunter, a boyhunter
I need a boy tonight

Get on your knees, hands up, boys
I just love sayin' that, I'll say it again
Get on your knees, hands up, boys
That's right, that's right

This is a stick up
Put your hands up
I?m coming in your town
Gonna bust it down

Get on your knees, hands up, boys
I just love sayin' that, I'll say it again
Get on your knees, hands up, boys
Hunt you down

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bb5176bdf0102cf8438abf437789f853

The Fun Lovin' Criminal - Lyrics - Bag Of Hits - Fun Lovin Criminals

Title: The Fun Lovin' Criminal
Album: Bag Of Hits
Artist: Fun Lovin Criminals
Composer(s): Steve Borgovini, Brian Andrew Leiser, Hugh Thomas Morgan

Lyric:
One, two, three and I come with the redneck style
'Cause you know I get paid by the Mile, like Avis
I pave this, fast save this, everybody smile and act gracious

See I rob banks, I pull pranks,
Sometimes I eat franks and knishes
Best wishes, I'm vicious but here
I am again like CNN, delivery my friend

Stick 'em up punk, it's the Fun Lovin' Criminal, the criminal
Stick 'em up punk, it's the Fun Lovin' Criminal, the criminal

Yes we bug a lot and my friends is loud and
I'm more freaky than disco 2000
I scream, I yell, I bark, I bite
I'll hit you with an egg on a hot summer night

I never let the cops get wind of me
And I never, ever, ever say die
I never take myself too seriously
'Cause everybody knows fat birds don't fly

Stick 'em up punk, it's the Fun Lovin' Criminal, the criminal
Stick 'em up punk, it's the Fun Lovin' Criminal, the criminal
Stick 'em up punk, it's the Fun Lovin' Criminal, the criminal
Stick 'em up punk, it's the Fun Lovin' Criminal, the criminal

The Fun Lovin' Criminal
The Fun Lovin' Criminal
The Fun Lovin' Criminal

Means with the green, murder on your spleen
Living in a dream do you know what I mean
Goateed indeed, smart like John Steed
I'll steal your girlie and I'll steal your weed

I got so much flavor that I'll always leave you chewin'
I got so many styles you'll be thinking I'm from the U.N.
I broke into the white house and never got caught
And I'd be Neil Armstrong if I was an astronaut

I am always optimistic about human relations
I got more friends than my man Peter Gatien
We're always fun loving, so don't start bugging
If your girlie comes up and starts kiss-kiss-kissing and hugging

Stick 'em up punk, it's the Fun Lovin' Criminal, the criminal
Stick 'em up punk, it's the Fun Lovin' Criminal, the criminal
Stick 'em up punk, it's the Fun Lovin' Criminal, the criminal
Stick 'em up punk, it's the Fun Lovin' Criminal, the criminal

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c71772f734ff5ea1fec939cea8b4f0dd

Line Em Up - Lyrics - Philadelphia Freeway - Freeway

Title: Line Em Up
Album: Philadelphia Freeway
Artist: Freeway
Composer(s): Leslie Pridgen, C Ries, Justin Smith

Lyric:
Thank you ladies and gentlemen
Hold your applause, yeah, holla
It's bout to go down, shut 'em down
Just Blaze, Freeway, Young Chris, Young Guru
The Roc is definitely building, yeah uh, holla

Yeah, listen, if the rhymes stop dumpin'
And beats stop knockin' then Free still fuckin' with Beans
R U to the G-S, maneuver the ve
Throughout the U.S. with two teks of keys

One start up your whip and the other start up your block
Retarded just like a Carter El Nino come take a sniff
Or take a few of you like the glass zit
Or stick shit in your artery

Hustlin's a part of me, niggas retardin' me
Come at the team wrong it's like a see-saw
They down and we up, the pound heat clowns up
I'm moving and re-up teks, blocks and keep gon'

Hustlers and cocks like a school bus
It make stops and it picks kids up
And they wake up the block really early in the mornin'
Word, niggas want drama? Then line 'em up

Line 'em up, line 'em up, line 'em up, I, I shut em down
Line 'em up, line 'em up, line 'em up, I, I shut em down
Line 'em up, line 'em up, line 'em up, I, I shut em down
Line 'em up, line 'em up, line 'em up, I, I shut em down

Listen, if the coke stop jumpin' and the block stop poppin'
Then Free still fuckin' with Schi M to the is-ash
Come down with the gat and take your sti-ash and kidnap your keeps

One puff in my face and the other go in your face
Retarded? This is a stick up if you slow then pick up the pace
I came to take everything out your safe

And even snatch all your jewelry
Robbins a part of me, you just oughta be
Singin' the same song when money low
Ain't no parameters, snatch chains even honeys know
Amateurs get state green's and hit with 24 months

From playin' the game long, the eight long
Make pockets short snatch hair and bones weight
They been taking from us for too long it ain't wrong
Line 'em up and I jam 'em all yo

Line 'em up, line 'em up, line 'em up, I, I shut em down
Line 'em up, line 'em up, line 'em up, I, I shut em down
Line 'em up, line 'em up, line 'em up, I, I shut em down
Line 'em up, line 'em up, line 'em up, I, I shut em down

They want a war with the Roc? Okay
Cases catch 'em and beat 'em like O.J.
I been stretchin' my d's since the O'Jays
Before I met Beans and Free, before Jay

Homie, Pops never was there
So I hustled 24 7 like the cops never was there
Yeah, fuck a box 'cause the metal was there
Fuck the cops 'cause the Fed's was paid

I been settled for years, I'm ahead of my years
Tuck the glock come pedal with K's we can settle it here
We run with this beef, we runnin' his peeps
Like five in the mornin' while they under them sheets

Like five gats drawn, soldiers come out they sleep
Tell me what they gon' tell me when the gun out they reach
Homie, we ain't gotta cheat, y'all ain't stopping Sig
Young Gunner startin' P. Guard from State Property

Line 'em up, line 'em up, line 'em up, I, I shut em down
Line 'em up, line 'em up, line 'em up, I, I shut em down
Line 'em up, line 'em up, line 'em up, I, I shut em down
Line 'em up, line 'em up, line 'em up, I, I shut em down

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9de4876486092a533c4b7bf433976f08

Ra - Stick Up - Lyrics - Afu

Title: Ra - Stick Up
Artist: Afu
Composer(s): Curtis Small, Aaron Phillip, A Hardy

Lyric:
Fuck playin' games, I start takin' names
Shake ya frame, time to start payin' Kane
Don't make me have to take it there and start sayin' names

Give you official in the middle initial
Yes' we do the thang, don't care who we bang
Quick to bring the belt out on cats like pootytang
I'm that, new we in, mighty supreme being
Names that you thought had heart, but seen fleeing

Rap sire, never tire, call me Messiah
I walk bare foot on hot coals below fire
The type to floss the teeth with barb wire
The type to cross the street in the cross fire

Survivor, not stuck in a job, metaphysical
Go ask your mother, yeah, do what you wanna do
Now we can go shot for shot, verse for verse
Worse gets worse, I put you in a hearse

('Cause it's a stick up)
Honey's wanna back it up, thugs wanna bag it up, no need to act up
('Cause it's a stick up)
Got it rapped up, got it cracked up
Get your hands high, up in the air before you get slapped up
('Cause it's a stick up)
Honey's wanna back it up, thugs wanna bag it up, no need to act up
('Cause it's a stick up)
Got it rapped up, got it cracked up
Hands in the air, before you get slapped up

Now hit 'em up, knock 'em in the bread basket
You get dap quick fucking with my mack shit
Around the corner cats with four faces
They scheme and plot, I'm like one shot block
Mass producer, my lyrics is cereal juices

I'm breakin' out tonight, I'm makin' moves kid
Gain collateral, matter of fact it's true
Your beef'll stop when my judo chop chop

We can do it any you want, let's get it on
So, say ya blessings unless you know your lessons
If you do, baby, you better yell those off

Feel these elbows, run those shell toes
Slip a not at all, don't bust one shot at all
Because I go with extra strength like Tylenol
Once connected with Afu, and you know we attack
Come together like Kobe and Shaq

('Cause it's a stick up)
Honey's wanna back it up, thugs wanna bag it up, no need to act up
('Cause it's a stick up)
Got it rapped up, got it cracked up
Get your hands high, up in the air before you get slapped up
('Cause it's a stick up)
Honey's wanna back it up, thugs wanna bag it up, no need to act up
('Cause it's a stick up)
Got it rapped up, got it cracked up
Hands in the air, before you get slapped up

A to the F to the U, to the R to the A
I pull out steel on tracks like everyday
Guess who spray, keep the name shook over here
Play your plee's, just a crook over here

Look over there, cat's is sittin' pretty with the chilly-willy
Cover me son, yo I'm gettin' busy
Yo, we prepare for anything that transpire
Keep ya mouth closed when I pass fire

Slap fire out ya ass 'cuz you gettin' too gas
I know my math and I mix it with the razzel-taz
Hide your bling, bling, you ain't down with God
And all the wolves know you left without your body guards

How could it not be hard, we swell dee-sel
Pee-pel feel hell, neck and back like e-zell
Niggas wanna re-bail, follow the dust to the mist
Come and get it, now who's fuckin' with this?

('Cause it's a stick up)
Honey's wanna back it up, thugs wanna bag it up, no need to act up
('Cause it's a stick up)
Got it rapped up, got it cracked up
Get your hands high, up in the air before you get slapped up
('Cause it's a stick up)
Honey's wanna back it up, thugs wanna bag it up, no need to act up
('Cause it's a stick up)
Got it rapped up, got it cracked up
Hands in the air, before you get slapped up

('Cause it's a stick up)
Honey's wanna back it up, thugs wanna bag it up, no need to act up
('Cause it's a stick up)
Got it rapped up, got it cracked up
Get your hands high, up in the air before you get slapped up
('Cause it's a stick up)
Honey's wanna back it up, thugs wanna bag it up, no need to act up
('Cause it's a stick up)
Got it rapped up, got it cracked up
Hands in the air, before you get slapped up

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Guard Your Grill - Lyrics - Greatest Hits: Naughty's Nicest - Naughty By Nature

Title: Guard Your Grill
Album: Greatest Hits: Naughty's Nicest
Artist: Naughty By Nature
Composer(s): Keir Gist, Anthony Criss, Vinnie Brown

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Lyric:
Has this ever happened to you?
Can you name this tune?
These victims knew how to guard they grill, this would've never happened

I put two and two together and I came up with four
You are forever, forgot, forbid, shouldn't have to say much more
I been through more crews than a flute, yeah I'll show ya
This is so damned scrap I betcha bro don't know ya

You tried to get cool and say peace, save that peace for a jigsaw
Stay back and watch a real MC get raw
I never know, never know when another will come to diss this
But if and whenever they come I'm runnin' this merry fist miss

I shooker the crook and shaker the fake to get like a quick stick
It's just another one dud and is dismissed
Kitty guard your grill, well be for real, you ain't built
I'm silly ho smackin' MC's on a ninety degree tilt

The reason that it's tilted 'cos you're guilty, too hard to guard
It's not you're tryin' too gay, you're tryin too hard
How hard can your guard be, I say wassup?
Guard your grill, knuckle up, put 'em up, yup

Guard your grill, knuckle up
I ain't the type to give up
Guard your grill, knuckle up
I smoke first, so what's up
Guard your grill, knuckle up
Put em up, you ain't tough
Guard your grill, knuckle up

I give em much business, an Aspirin
Damn, I love a glass chin
What are ya askin' for mercy, I'm laughin'
Huh, you know the game, you know the name and you know the rep

You know the Kay, you know the Vin and you know the Treach
There's no sleepin', no nothin', no rest and hey
No snoozin', no dozin', no f'in way
Heapin' things up like a Coke cup

Wind me up but y'all I gets the low wits tha rough stuff
And after enough to cut ya off a piece, still have enough
Then go around to them and him because [Incomprehensible]
I, I got posse full a fighters all fly like a chopper

Use to couldn't take em out 'cos they was rowdy hip hoppers
There's so much gold for roast, the nuts don't knock us
My nuts are my only homies that can hang proper
At school I had a lot, I filled with VCR's and Vodka

I had two grills, one a runner, one a trotter
Back then I wore briefs, tella starter, gettin' hotter
Then I grew yea long so I had to switch to boxers
How hard can your guard be, I say what's up?
Guard your grill, knuckle up, put 'em up, duck

Guard your grill, knuckle up
I ain't the type to give up
Guard your grill, knuckle up
I smoke first, so what's up?
Guard your grill, knuckle up
Put em up, you ain't tough
Guard your grill, knuckle up

I don't lay, I lie, who knows like Pinnochio
Never been to Tokyo or Keeper's Day Bolochio
Guard your grill, here's a feel, I rush hard
I got the fliest ride out here, the '91 bus card

So callin' me for a ride ain't the answer
Huh, you want a lift ya better pick up a transfer
Sayin' we will go for one cut, now we're dead
Oh yeah, that's 'bout as funny as Barbara Bush in a bobsled

Now how wrong can you be to think we play
Even a broken clock is right at least twice a day
So now ya feelin' real low, ya no flow crow
You slow hobo, stiffer than Robo

Oh, here's another side of bein' real quick
You might speak it fulla cracks, but you still ain't shh
So don't try at those same style battle cry
I rock the U-train, the routes that I battle by

I listen to sister shit, it 'til they quite slow
No matter that white rap, shoot a pharaoh with a psycho
Put down ya handgun, up with'cha hands son
Look cops they come, I ain't the damned one

I was only three steps from a peace prize
Pieces laid, piece of his eyes and his left thigh
Knuckle up, put 'em up, yeah guard your grill
And that's comin' from Illtown, down the hill

Guard your grill, knuckle up
I ain't the type to give up
Guard your grill, knuckle up
I smoke first, so what's up?
Guard your grill, knuckle up
Put em up, you ain't tough
Guard your grill, knuckle up

This goes out to the 118th Street Posse
My man scratch in the house, y'know what I'm sayin'?
And oh yae, pss pss pss pss
Don't forget, guard your grill, knuckle up

A strong what up to my man Kid Capri
This goes out to my man Jack Don
I gotta say what's up to my man Pop Dezzy Dezza
What's up to Clark Kent and my man face?

This goes out to my man Fitz and the whole Down The Hill
'Cos they know how to definitely guard they grill
I gotta say what's up to my man Dre and Easy in the house
This goes out to my man Tamere he's definitely in here

What's up to my homey Kool G Rap and my Brand Nubian brothers
Special shoutout to my man Grand Puba, one of the fiercest MC's out there
Peace goes out
Peace to my man Frank Ben, we outta here, peace!

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a0c00a54977e27da6176895dae91bc7a

Stick Up Kid - Lyrics - Hazen Street

Title: Stick Up Kid
Artist: Hazen Street
Composer(s): Hoya Freddy Cricien, Toby Morse, Mackie James, Chad Gilbert, David Kennedy

Lyric:
Oh, I bet you never seen it coming
I see them running all too scared
'Cause I am there, gun in hand
Hands up, everybody get 'em up
Hands up 'cause I don't give a fuck
You could have shown me some more class

And now you'll feel the wrath
From the gun blast, the gun blast
It all happened so fast

Could have been a stick up kid, no
Should have been a lot of things, whoa
Would I change everything
Or anything for who I am today?

So, I guess, I better keep it moving
As I walk away impaired
Guess who is there, gun in hand?
Hands up, everybody get 'em up
Hands up 'cause now I'm really fucked
I should have chosen another path

But now I'll feel the wrath
From the gun blast, the gun blast
It all went by so fast

Could have been a stick up kid, no
Should have been a lot of things, whoa
Would I change everything
Or anything for who I am today?

Could have been a stick up kid, no
Should have been a lot of things, whoa
Would I change everything
Or anything for who I am today?

Would I change everything? No
I wouldn't change anything, no
All that I've done and seen
Has helped me be the man that I am today
This is who I became

Could have been a stick up kid
But every thing's not always what it seems
Could have been a stick up kid
Should have been a lot of things
Could have been a stick up kid
Should have been a lot of things

Could have been a stick up kid, no
Should have been a lot of things, whoa
Would I change everything
Or anything for who I am today?

Could have been a stick up kid, no
Should have been a lot of things, whoa
Would I change everything
Or anything for who I am today?

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9f9ec0608fc5bc1f18df2bee37312fb5

Cadillac Rock Box - Lyrics - We've Come For You All - Anthrax

Title: Cadillac Rock Box
Album: We've Come For You All
Artist: Anthrax
Composer(s): Frank Bellado, Charlie L. Benante, John Robert Bush, Rob Caggirno, Scott Ian

Lyric:
Yo G money, this ciao here
Ringing you from the fucking Cadillac Rock Box here
I suspect some mighty fine groovin' on this record here
And eh, shit, I have to call you tomorrow
Alright brother, rock on

Oh, it feels so good to be here
Ass bet broke and I don't care
Yeah, so good to be clear, I can testify

Listen, I can't fake an attraction to it
Magnetic, it pulls so hard
When two powerful forces collide and break down
Inside and break out at the speed of sound
Locked and loaded I can't hold it

Pick 'em up, set 'em up, watch it all go down
Oh yeah, driving in my Cadillac Rock Box, Rock box

I am so alive, I learned how to let it go
And on the day that I'll die I'll have no fear

Listen, I can't fake an attraction to it
Magnetic, it pulls so hard
When two powerful forces collide and break down
Inside, and break out at the speed of sound
Locked and loaded I can't hold it

Pick 'em up, set 'em up, watch it all go down
Oh yeah, driving in my Cadillac Rock Box, Rock box

Stick 'em up, get 'em up, drop it and throw down
Oh yeah, hangin' in my Cadillac Rock Box, oh yeah

Pick 'em up, set 'em up, watch it all go down
Oh yeah, driving in my Cadillac Rock Box, Rock box

Fill 'em up, shoot 'em up, sit before you fall down
Oh yeah, bury me in my Cadillac Rock Box
Rock, rock, box

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