Straight Outta Now Rule - Lyrics - Brand Nubian

Title: Straight Outta Now Rule
Artist: Brand Nubian
Composer(s): R Hall, D Murphy, L Dechalus, W Dixon

Lyric:
Straight outta Now Rule, Brand Nu keepin' cool
We drop a jewel and never stoppin' what we do
Always do what we must, everything that we touch
Is going platinum plus, comin' through in a clutch

Straight outta Now Rule, Brand Nu keepin' cool
We drop a jewel and never stoppin' what we do
Always do what we must, everything that we touch
Is going platinum plus, comin' through in a clutch

A lot of y'all niggas is 85th on some shady shit
Bark is much worse than your bite like a baby pit
In the pitch dark of the night you's afraid to get exposed
like the sunlight which rose in the morning

Froze in a gunfight, forcing those
Who run with you to reevaluate affiliations
We salivate from hunger, placed in fucked up situations
And wonder when retaliation will occur, build destroy he or her

It's time to fill the void, niggas kill the noise
To the young boys, you fuckin' with a grown-ass man
Watch your tone or get acquainted with the back of my hand
Nubian Brand steadily influencin' fans

For other rappers we gon' ruin your plans
What we doin' stands as a motto
Like Grace Jones' nipple to the bottle
We pioneer and never follow

We're out for the lion's share now watch me take it there
Yeah, my verbal clarity speaks for my popularity
Sell 5 million CDs and give the proceeds to my favorite charity
Son, I ain't gonna super splash you with no Fantasy Island shit

I mean I work hard for what I got and I be thankful for what I get
And if you practice, spit your verbs properly, not sloppily
Like monopoly, you can end up with cheese, whips and property
Oh damn, silly of me, I forgot to let y'all know

It's one thing you should never do in this game and that's sell your soul
I make a lot of sense then I go and make the dollars
Work hard like blue collars, ghetto scholars is hard to follow
Niggas say it's real rough today and I say what you say

They promised me 40 acres and a mule
And all I got was a project and a subway
I stay positive, niggas mistake that for not hard
Nigga I'm God, walk through North America like Master Farrad

Me and my squad, separating the peas from the pod
No bodyguard, fuck around and roll a tank through your yard

Straight outta Now Rule, Brand Nu keepin' cool
We drop a jewel and never stoppin' what we do
Always do what we must, everything that we touch
Is going platinum plus, comin' through in a clutch

Yeah, man, these 'Dick in the butt', rappers could get shot in the face
Dragged through the streets and probably left some place
I seem shootouts in the park, ball games turned tragic
Bitch niggas gettin' smacked and smacked again

In front of they girl, and she's throwing away that ass
And I ain't really asked for it cos a lot of niggas tore it
And yes, my man Hav had bought me something from VA
I was gonna hit him with doe but he ain't real want no shorts

'Cause we had worked together and he knew I was true blue
Man, I swore I would never go to VA again
Until I found out who killed my best friend
I can tell by the wind somebody's gettin' ready to bend

They lifestyle's 'bout to end, I'm in these African cabs
On stores run by the Arabs with pictures of yen
Seem like they schemin'
Herculoid cats get flattened and reduced to pitchin'
That girl gave you crabs but I can't explain those scabs
Ha ha, where we at? Flash one-time

Straight outta Now Rule, Brand Nu keepin' cool
We drop a jewel and never stoppin' what we do
Always do what we must, everything that we touch
Is going platinum plus, comin' through in a clutch

Straight outta Now Rule, Brand Nu keepin' cool
We drop a jewel and never stoppin' what we do
Always do what we must, everything that we touch
Is going platinum plus, comin' through in a clutch

Ha, '98, too soon
Brand Nubian, what?

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61c2748882e661ff126e9d7b4c48631d

Wanted - Lyrics - Compton'S Most Wanted

Title: Wanted
Artist: Compton'S Most Wanted
Composer(s): Andre Manuel, Terry Allen, Barry White, Aaron Tyler

Lyric:
Just like a prisoner, because I'm brown with some black skin
A fugitive, running cause I just won't give in
And its hard when it's black on black
Gotta blast another brother trying to scheme on my stack
For me to be a busta, oh no
Police is hunting a brother like an animal
So I play my cards right, watch my back
Because the enemy is scheming, trying to kick a rat pack
Straight up, a gangsta, ain't got time for faking
Label me a pusher, dead presidents I'm making
A brother who's young, got the neighborhood sprung
Police riding my tip, if they catch me I'm hung
But no, I don't sleep as they creep. Take a peep out the scene
Cause they trying to stop the flow of my green
So I keep stepping, and bailing hard because a brother is up on it
Catch me if you can cause fool, Eiht is wanted

I lace up my kicks, because a brother's on the run
Chase me down with a gun, because my lyrics weigh a ton
Now I'm sweating cause you're sweating me big time
Hang me up by a rope for my murder rhyme
No shorts given, that's how I'm living in the ninety-one
Slide my car in, and smoking with my Mike gun
Pop off two lyrics so they can slack up
If it gets too deep Mike's got the back up
Packin' tools, droppin' fools, I'm from Compton
So that should be your first rule
Here comes the pick of the weak, so don't sneak
If you do, Eiht'll take two to your cheek
So don't get uptight if you a victim
Got a gang of gangsta rhymes so let me kick em
Geah, I can't be stopped, cause I'm up on it
And a brother like Eiht's still wanted

So now I break faster, not because I want to, cause I got ta
Now your homies after me because I grabbed my mike and shot a-
Nother sucker dead, lyrics straight to your head
Cannot bite, no. The Compton psycho
Quick on the gank, so you might get shanked
And I don't need a gat just to jack your bank
Another stick-up kid just got crazy
Try to double cross the Eiht you'll be pushing up daisies
Or you can get the backwash
From the forty that's poured on the ground, so I clown
So your mad, but your bad and you press your luck
But you still wanna nag, yeah you'll get stuck
So who's got the Compton funk?
And it's illegal if you bump it too loud in your trunk
So now you know that Eiht's your top rap dealer
But you a punk ass New Jack squealer
That's why I'm wanted

The odds against me. So now its time to break
Seconds tick off the clock so I don't fake
I gots to keep on steppin', don't run outta breath
Cause if I slow down punk it might spell death
I confuse the mark, throw him off the trail
This ain't no picnic punk you picked hell
Better known as Rambro, not afraid
Mike T starts the gat, Eiht's a hand grenade
And who's got the four-one-one?
Just can't do me punk your getting done
Eiht is the nigga eating them up
Yeah that's my cue so I start kicking but
And you don't want to witness the Compton rage
Trapped just like a rat in a snake cage
Boy you dis the crew, geah you flaunt it
Now I hunt you down because your wanted

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b8b6a76dd8b8a7ead85790e8083a3a77

Put The Lead On Ya - Lyrics - Luniz

Title: Put The Lead On Ya
Artist: Luniz
Composer(s): Jerold Jr Ellis, Anthony Gilmour, Garrick Husband, Danyle Robinson

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

Lyric:
What the fuck is this?
It's the bullet holes Tupac

Unload the barrel an' blast
I'm puttin' lead in ya mutha fuckin' ass
Unload the barrel an' blast
I'm puttin' lead in ya mutha fuckin' ass
Unload the barrel an' blast
I'm puttin' lead in ya mutha fuckin' ass

I'm broke as fuck an' it's like that I'm livin' an'
I'm watchin' niggaz bubble when the jealousy is kickin' in
I wanna pull licks but that jealousy don't fit me
Let's bet on the set, I'm a vet runnin' from fifty

It spell out, so I'm a post to the fullest
Only servin' then the ice cream man is out again
It's jealous niggaz on the lurk still, we had a treaty
So now they goin' back on they first deal

Now they ready to put the lead on ya
How would you like it if a nigga was broke an' came fed on ya?
That's why I'm still on my P's an' Q's
Readin' fools I'm known as a shista deceivin' fools
See quit's pagin' me

Snoopin' around found trouble
Fo tryin' to fuck up a niggaz bubble
Don't bubble mo than he got
'Cuz now he know that if he get rid of you
Then that's more cash in the Pot

I got a rival now, tha turf is showin' what it's worth
I gotta pack a gat fo survival now, they just won't let me be
All I can be so all I can see is victory
I'm struggle master so the doo doo that you do
Will only make me wanna bubble faster

No party poop 'cuz this troop came Federal
Slappin' hoes in they neck juss to let 'em know
It's all clear now why it's so hard to say goodbye
You broke, I'm gettin' high don't make me put the lead on ya

Unload the barrel an' blast
I'm puttin' lead in ya mutha fuckin' ass
Unload the barrel an' blast
I'm puttin' lead in ya mutha fuckin' ass

Here I come I'm outta jail fresh in the air
Nigga need a come up, so nigga didn't care
So let me think nigga I need to pick up pace
Nigga need a lick, nigga need no safes

So ah let me get straight down to business
I need me some distance to run when I carry gun
An' I'm a be like quick on my feet
You try to be a hero my nine milli, you an' me

An' even if you're the chief of police
Nigga you will still catch some heat
'Cuz I'm juss one of the killaz in the town
A niggaz know they call me dru mutha fuckin' down

So homie step back this is a jack
Nigga make a move an' that ass will get jacked
Because I'm loaded, I'm loaded off the dank-quid
An' Jackie you will get me high juss fo free see

Juss call me S I C K , I love to kill fo play
'Cuz like cube it was a good day
An' I'm a be like strictly on my Q's
P's an' Q's I'm puttin' quarter holes in fools

So don't you even fuck wit my rep
My rep's too big an' leavin' you diggin' fo days
An' I'm a get ya nigga if I want ya
I got a gun you run nigga I'm a pop ya

Because I'm broke I need to fill me some ends
Give me yo pocket book so I can break it in
I goes to Wells Fargo, Bank of America
An' if your a woman, don't think I still won't put the lead on ya beeitch

Unload the barrel an' blast
I'm puttin' lead in ya mutha fuckin' ass
Unload the barrel an' blast
I'm puttin' lead in ya mutha fuckin' ass

Unload the barrel an' blast
I'm puttin' lead in yo mutha fuckin' ass
Unload the barrel an' blast
I'm puttin' lead in yo mutha fuckin' ass

Hell yeah I'm on welfare G A checks
Keeps me paid like a mutha fuckin' vet on the set
Let my mail stretch an' gets up
To the point where even my bitch be choppin' zips up

I whips up the cream
Twenty eight grams on the triple beam
Chefs hittin' clean, how much clean?
Four-fifteens, an' the zap-co
The rap-go, we slip an made a weak move

Don't sleep dude, I pull licks every week fool
But ain't no Bonnie an' Clyde nigga
'Cuz if a bitch set up a lick, I get the money an' slide nigga
I hit the crap game first thang, leave if you shot yo
'Cuz bein' broke is the worst thang

Check this out man, 'cuz you know I ain't that type niggie
I scoop the dice, once or twice then the riggie, riggie
Dangle roll shot, is a fa sho shot
No shot, I mean it's so hot, I'm snatchin' hella face from the block

I got the glock sixteen on my waist juss in case
Never hit 6-8's, know the haters at the gate
When I shake the dice another one bites the dust
They mad as fuck gettin' struck by the shista

I shoulda known 'cuz rule number one
Never roll craps wit some niggaz on a track you ain't from
They young an' claimin' they broke, but they forgotten
That I got they mail, an' I can tell they plottin'

But shit, they'll get licked like a popsicle
Don't fuck around an' get sent to the hospital
Little niggaz think they slick but they already sawin'
Popin' at y'all take on raw shit

Let me raise up from these cowards turf
Yeah 'cuz little do they know what's below the Eddie Bauer shirt
Niggaz mean muggin' me but what that do
I'm a soldier till it's over 6-5 on my tattoo punk

So if you want funk you be a dead homie
'Cuz I be down if you pull a 2 elev homie
Now all the niggaz gettin' lit up
I told ya live in yo house wit out yo strap is a rigg up
'Cuz I'm a put the lead on ya punk ass nigga

Unload the barrel an' blast
I'm puttin' lead in ya mutha fuckin' ass
Unload the barrel an' blast
I'm puttin' lead in ya mutha fuckin' ass
Unload the barrel an' blast

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75a0ad982ffb8252e5acfe1fe155d09d

Bout My Business - Lyrics - R.U.L.E. - Ja Rule

Title: Bout My Business
Album: R.U.L.E.
Artist: Ja Rule
Composer(s): Raymond Grant, Jeffrey B Atkins, Simon Haseley, Irving Domingo Lorenzo, Richard Grant, Jeffrey Crocker, Tiheem Crocker, Ramel Gill

Lyric:
Yeah
Yeah, yeah, yo
I got a knack for pushin crack, and cookin raw coke
Fresh off the boat, no vest but I tote, and wear it like a coat
I'm starin through the scope, with one eye open and one shut
Zero in on the target, spark him and watch his head bust
Ain't shit to discuss, unless it's moneybags
Or the SK-8, drop Jag with funny tags
Homey laugh now but die later when the lead dump
And double barrel slugs like Elmer Fudd, I'm handsome

Some of your favorite rappers is flamin, I'm bangin things at them
They claim they gangster, lettin mens give brains to them
I aim the stainless, let the games begin
Bang bang dangerous, my gun gang famous
My hoes don't speak English, catch 'em at the foreign money exchange
New Armani leather in the Range
When you see my gang, tuck in your chain
We stuck in the game, we fuckin the same, bang

I'm bout my money and bout my business (bang!)
Shout out my niggaz en route to riches (bang!)
I doubt we different, hustlers pitchin (bang!)
And we all gon' get away, all my niggaz say
I'm bout my money and bout my business (yeah!)
Whatta, bout my bitches who mouth is ridiculous (yeah!)
Gettin money and nigga it's insignificant (yeah! what?)
Always get your pay, I love it when I hear 'em say

It's back to business, stackin riches
If you, act suspicious, it's a Wrap like Reynolds
Black Continental, mac outta the window
Black's out of his mental, I black out with pistols
It ain't confidential, all the shit I been through
Now I'm gettin money and a mill' is essential
Bang bang, nigga, 'til the day we die
A tooth for a tooth and a eye for a eye

Nigga you know it's, business befo' pleasure, money over chicks
Dummies in the clip, nickel on my hip patrollin through the strip
Bet a stack, head crack, no rollin to the six
Scoop up my chips, then I split, with my beautiful bitch
Like Jada Pinkett Smith, for that paper I leave stinkin and stiff
Your pinky and wrist, and your necklace
Get removed nigga, my wolves is playin hardball
Leavin him bloody like a Pelican Bay yard brawl

I'm bout my money and bout my business (bang!)
Shout out my niggaz en route to riches (bang!)
I doubt we different, hustlers pitchin (bang!)
And we all gon' get away, all my niggaz say
I'm bout my money and bout my business (yeah!)
Whatta, bout my bitches who mouth is ridiculous (yeah!)
Gettin money and nigga it's insignificant (yeah! what?)
Always get your pay, I love it when I hear 'em say

Who wanna know why I got so much beef with so many rappers?
Drama, it's the INC red rum spun backwards
Karma, is a muh'fucker watch your actions
Cause the clip to the max slips in bananas
I catch fire like matches {whew} then blow out
And the flyest crews goin the fastest
Pull up to the hottest club in New York, with my hazards on
No tags, I just drove it off the showroom floor
Straight cash, bout my paper, I'm on my gangster
Doin this shit for ten years, niggaz I'm major
Maybach and all that, same behavior
Money over bitches, bitches over strangers
Guns befo' bangers but bangers do
For niggaz that had enough and ain't got no clue
That they can get slayed, flex and get sprayed
And spin they head like yo' hottest DJ's, motherfuckers

I'm bout my money and bout my business (bang!)
Shout out my niggaz en route to riches (bang!)
I doubt we different, hustlers pitchin (bang!)
And we all gon' get away, all my niggaz say
I'm bout my money and bout my business (yeah!)
Whatta, bout my bitches who mouth is ridiculous (yeah!)
Gettin money and nigga it's insignificant (yeah! what?)
Always get your pay, I love it when I hear 'em say

I'm bout my money and bout my business

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fef03a788657f2d277f2b281a872ddc1

Step Into Da Cipher - Lyrics - Brand Nubian

Title: Step Into Da Cipher
Artist: Brand Nubian
Composer(s): Derek Murphy, Lorenzo Dechalus

Lyric:
In the cipher with my boys, you know we get busy
In the cipher with my boys, you know we get busy
In the cipher with my boys, you know we get busy
In the cipher with my boys, you know we get busy

First up it's the nuts up, what's up?
To the niggas from the projects
Prospect Park in Brooklyn, I'm lookin' at another crime scene
Committed by the brothers on this rhyme team

Just freestylin' in a cipher, might take the life of MCs
If you're wack we got the right to seize
He's black like Ultra, know your culture
Motherfuckers don't know so they won't grow

Lord Jamar show and prove the rules I kick
Makin' niggas move, no matter how smooth it get
Or how rigid, niggas still get it
I kill wicked motherfuckers with the rhymes that I structures

In my third eye, know you heard I
Study math like a mathmatician
See half of y'all wishin you could sound like the gods from the town
Of the rule, you ain't got the urge, bust it down Serge

You know I smoke it like the flame to the tip of that bud we just twistin'
From another dimension, did I mention
That funky, that's the only way we know how to get niggas
Rhymes belimminent like a partial scholarship

But my style's so heavy it make you lean when I drop
Leave you spinnin' like the washin' machine before it stop
Goin' all out, have to seal these motherfuckers fate
On a mission from Cleveland, ridin' it from outta state

So ready yourself because it's on full scale
I heard some put Jamar to bail down to New Rochelle
Now Rule, that's where we scheme and we plot
On the late night, blunted in the basement with Sadat

And we discussin' your demise, know it's gonna come
Sure as the sun's gonna rise, send me the drum
And Serge is buckin' off a shot from the mental insight
Air tight, throw a worker from cradle to gravesite

I feel lick a shot pum, pum, push up on the one
I'll bad, bad and I'll no run
Original Flatbush style, and solo jam
Like beep Han Solo man

Yes, Mr.Intellect and sex in the flesh
I'm rougher than the hair on your girl's chest
Maestro Manny one verse, time come in
My cafi in the scab when they go flurry

You don't concern me, your style can't burn me
You's about as hardcore as Big Bird, Bert and Ernie
My steelo fat like your girlfriend, pregnant with twins
After, Thanksgiving then they're eatin' pork skin

I don't give a fuck about your section, just watch your murder flexin'
Step correct to the brother with the dark complexion
6' 1", two weaving and cocked diesel
You can see that hair is curly, ain't no fuckin' up like you baby, see

In the cipher with my boys, you know we get busy
In the cipher with my boys, you know we get busy
In the cipher with my boys, you know we get busy
In the cipher with my boys, you know we get busy

When the corrupt stuff in my mind starts to erupt
Even the hard niggas will be yellin' "That's enough"
But what about my style, ooh, child, I switch 'em up
Rearrange 'em up, in other words I change 'em up

Snagglepuss, I make a nigga fall like the season
So exit stage left 'cos you ain't on my level, leaf
You wanna battle? Here's what happened to the last kid
His wife became a widow and his kids became bastards

In the rap profession, I'm not the one for testin'
I'm the first to let'cha know I'm way dirty like mudwrestlin'
So bring all the flunkies you roll with
So when I set it on your ache, you all be like "Oh shit"

You want more so here we go, peep how my rap flow
I'll have your ass sneakin' out the backdoor
This is some trouble you don't wanna get your ass in
So watch your step and don't come out'cha mouth in the wrong fashion

Feel the wind blow through your hair
My aim is square on your backbone
You're home alone and your mom work the double shift
Just enough time for me to hit that off

"Bounce on a nigga" said my man Wop
Peace to the squad, one-eighth, Fo' and Teepee, check it
I'm the type of nigga that'll walk down the street
On some casual shit, even my kid could flip

Hear me on the Wop tape, ban, hit 'em
Hear me with the rhythm, yo you better go get 'em, check it
Anticipation, you're waitin' and waitin'
Peace to Courtland, Ave, Teepee wheelnose in

Satan, the early bird, aiyo that's my word
My man, Joon with the 'erb to the moon
Eh, Shawn Black, nigga, where ya at?
No type of daydreamer or a nigga with enphysema
This is X and I'm straight from the Rule

In the cipher with my boys, you know we get busy
In the cipher with my boys, you know we get busy
In the cipher with my boys, you know we get busy
In the cipher with my boys, you know we get busy

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6092546a36985b7c85da56f44a705b66

Thicker Than Water - Lyrics - Mc Eiht

Title: Thicker Than Water
Artist: Mc Eiht
Composer(s): Kevin Mccord, Aaron Bernard Tyler

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

Lyric:
Gyeah, Westside, somebody told me
They want some of that thug shit up in here
So I'ma take ya back down memory lane
And give ya some of that wicked shit

And I'ma do this right here
For all my CPT G's in the house
Check this out

As my life takes a twirl, I say fuck the world
'Cause sometimes it seems that it's all a bad dream
Pops must have fucked with moms on the scheme
But sooner or later he left our 2 man team but fuck him

Times done changed, I'm in the game
And I bring moms pain, 'cause the game is slangin caine
Cries from my eyes as I hits the street
Pounds in the chest the heart beats as I roll with heats

Pops wasn't around but for a minute or shit
Until he skipped across town with another bitch to stick
Stuck moms one more times then dropped a dime
And on top of that had a son same age mine

But, uhh, don't blame me, 'cause, Lord, I try not to
Have an attitude like "Fuck him until I die"
But now I rebel and 'cause moms hell
And hit the blocks, 'cause I'm into makin illegal mail
Gyeah

If you keep your hood tight, everything's gonna be alright
If you're down then you can ride with me
It's thicker than water, baby, me and you
It's thicker than water, baby, so what we gonna do

Now I runs with a gang that Hoo-Bangs for fame
And crosstown robberies know tha nickname
Leave 'em dead in they shoes as we servin' the blues
G's that pack tools pay dues to rule so it's cool

They dumps and we dumps back
Me and my G's and the 6-4 black layin 'em flat
Rata-tat-tat from the Gat and shit
We represent y'all hit the bricks when the pistols spit

And I had a straight bitch and shit, that's cool
I slang for cash while she hit the books in school
I live and die for the hood, she knew the rule
Love for this thug when the world would seem cruel

I crips where the enemies dwell but I'm no fool
Undercover drive off strapped with the tool
But I slipped then packed my clip
My hoodrat tripped and didn't scoop
But they still didn't shoot, gyeah

If you keep your hood tight, everything's gonna be alright
If you're down then you can ride with me
It's thicker than water, baby, me and you
It's thicker than water, baby, so what we gonna do

I made it to Deuce-5, baby and that's luck
In this rap shit to try to make some bucks
Seems like the gang bang thang got tougher
A little bit younger but then bit rougher

They been tellin' me to watch out for jealousy
'Cause now a friend of me was a enemy
Strange the game done changed switched
Ain't that a bitch with the rivals makin' some change

In and outta lanes in the passenger seat
Me and you and our crew strapped with heat
Outta town runs for funs no beef
We all hit licks and blows the chronic leaf

But payback's a bitch in the end you know
And she sets up traps, 'cause she snatch for dough
Let it go no come up your last trick
'Cause my brother's got my back when the shit gets thick
Gyeah

If you keep your hood tight, everything's gonna be alright
If you're down then you can ride with me
It's thicker than water, baby, me and you
It's thicker than water, baby, so what we gonna do

If you keep your hood tight, everything's gonna be alright
If you're down then you can ride with me
It's thicker than water, baby, me and you
It's thicker than water, baby, so what we gonna do

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5868e8b202f100b24484c6cc90bcb129

Warrior Part 2 - Lyrics - Lloyd Banks

Title: Warrior Part 2
Artist: Lloyd Banks
Composer(s): Nathaniel D. Hale, Marshall Mathers, Curtis James Jackson, Christopher Charle Lloyd, S. King, Luis Edgardo Resto

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

Lyric:
Remix
Lloyd Banks

It's like a throne that he don't even own
He won't sit down, given the crown he just throws it around
It's like a joke he's like a king but he don't rule a thing
He don't want the diamonds, want the gold or want the jewelry

He don't want the fame, don't want the lute he's in it for a sport
Runnin' suckaz where there's competition 'round the court
He appreciates your support but he ain't beggin' for it
And you can't love it, you can hate it but you can't ignore it

You can't be that ignorant but you can try to sell him short
But you can't fuck with his last joint or the one before it
And he was gonna raise hell like them country boys
And if I'm frontin' then you better come confront me for it

This is the story of a warrior I know you know it
True warriors go ahead and make some noise
It ain't healthy to be makin' niggaz paranoid
Hit your corner wit' more weapon, I don't need my boyz

I'm doin' 120 in the fast lane
Kick back, just relax, let me do my thang
Don't give a fuck about you suckas gotta maintain
Money, power and respect in this rap game

He's straight outta the neighborhood but niggaz hate
They see you go and eat your dinner off a bigger plate
Your stomachs ache while he's loungin' at the big estate
And he hops in a hundred thousand with a nigga's gate

House with just a bigger gate, houndin' him was a big mistake
He wont surrender, he'll rather give up a rib to break
'Cuz he remembers when they wouldn't lend a helpin' hand
So he was sittin' on green like a Celtic fan

Created a buzz so when you gotta mention his name
When you discussin' the illest playa that's in the game
And he's ridin' with Em, 50 cent, Doc and them
G Unit records ain't no motherfuckin' stoppin' them

This is the story of a warrior I know you know it
True warriors go ahead and make some noise
It ain't healthy to be makin' niggaz paranoid
Hit your corner wit' more weapon, I don't need my boyz

I'm doin' 120 in the fast lane
Kick back, just relax, let me do my thang
Don't give a fuck about you suckas gotta maintain
Money, power and respect in this rap game

He's no magician, man, the kid makes somethin' outta nuthin'
So now niggaz from this hood act like we owe 'em somethin'
They talk crazy till we send niggas through there to buck 'em
Ask 'em if there's a problem and they'll say, "Naw its nothin'"

He was gonna help 'em out, but since they fronted, fuck 'em
He dont care how they feel, they can hate him or love him
He hold it down on his own the kid is really thuggin'
He's rich now, he ain't change so niggaz think he buggin'

He bullet proof everything in case niggaz try and buff him
Keep two pistols on this hip I show you where he tuck 'em
Niggaz say they gon' get at him but they can't touch him
Try to catch 'em slippin', they creepin' and he start bustin'

This is the story of a warrior I know you know it
True warriors go ahead and make some noise
It ain't healthy to be makin' niggaz paranoid
Hit your corner wit' more weapon, I don't need my boyz

I'm doin' 120 in the fast lane
Kick back, just relax, let me do my thang
Don't give a fuck about you suckas gotta maintain
Money, power and respect in this rap game

I can give you niggaz' somethin' you can talk about
I can turn your smile upside down
You ain't no G-Unit fuckin' clown
I can take your girl until I turn her out

Don't hold it in, let it all out
I can give you fuckers somethin' to be mad about
Invite her in send her back out
With my DNA all in her mouth

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1928156af8b87c158da09685c2c35fc2

Some L.A. Niggas - Lyrics - Dr. Dre

Title: Some L.A. Niggas
Artist: Dr. Dre
Composer(s): Royal Harbor, D. Johnson, Brian Anthony Bailey, M. Holder, Andre Young, Roger Mcbride, Alvin Joyner

Lyric:
Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker
(West West y'all)
Yeah, L.A. niggaz
L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga
Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin?
Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin?
But this shit come all the way back around here
My nigga Dre, droppin heat box on y'all bitch-ass
Yaknahmsayin? You gotta recognize
L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin world, nigga
Recognize this

Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag
Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag
G'd from the feet up
Blued up from the Zoo, a pi' grew up
Loc'n, smokin and drinkin til we threw up (threw up)
At?Park, taggin, hittin fools up
Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up
You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up
But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you
Now there's another motherfucker with no future
But Time Bomb much smoother when I manuever, dope like Cuba
Got em jumpin

I'm comin Straight Outta Compton with a loose cannon
Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner
Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch
From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha
Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin wit Tha Liks
And Hittman bought a fix
Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch
Here it tick tick tick tick {*BOOM*}
Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic
Weed and cocaine sold seperate, check it
From sundown to sunup -- clown done run up
The Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?
Chorus Knoc-Turn'al, Kokane
We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and back heat
Requirements for survival each day -- in L.A
It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops
Analyze why we act this way -- in L.A

Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move
They call me Hitt - cause I spit like gats do
Cock me back
Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax
Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true
But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you
Blast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)
Mash on you for your turkish chain, C.K. B.K
Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang
I helped niggaz get, jacked for they Dana Dane's
My pants hang below my waistline
I look humble wanna rumble? (yeah yeah)
I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline
Don't waste my time
Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's
One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches
Hawaiian thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches

I was raised in the hood called WHAT-THE-DIF'
Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood
Slugs for the fuck of it
Anybody hatin on us can suck a dick
If I catch you touchin mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor
Better than yours, drivin away gettin head from a whore
It's AvireX-to-the-Z
Fuckin with me might get you banned from TV
Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time
Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie
What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health
Like puttin a pistol up to your face and blastin yourself

Five in the mornin, burglars at my do'
Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer
Let em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll
Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'
And bruise by the case
SLAP YOU in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced
Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings
Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings

In L.A
That's how we ride

In L.A
That's how we ride

In L.A
That's how we ride

In L.A
That's how we ride

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5ce4ad951d621c9fb32150a18f0c3a93

Some L.A. Niggaz - Lyrics - Dr. Dre 2001 - Dr. Dre

Title: Some L.A. Niggaz
Album: Dr. Dre 2001
Artist: Dr. Dre
Composer(s): Royal Harbor, D. Johnson, Brian Anthony Bailey, M. Holder, Andre Young, Roger Mcbride, Alvin Joyner

Lyric:
Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all
Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga
Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?
Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?
But this shit come all the way back around here
My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass
Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize
L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga
Recognize this

Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag
Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag
G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up
Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up
At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up
Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up
You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up

But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you
Now there's another motherfucker with no future
But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba
Got 'em jumpin'

I'm comin' "Straight Outta Compton" with a loose cannon
Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner
Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch
From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha
Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks
And Hittman bought a fix
Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch
Here it tick tick tick tick

Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic
Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it
From sundown to sunup, clown done run up
The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?

We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat
Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.
It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops
Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.

Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move
They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do
Cock me back
Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax
Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true
But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you
Blast you, for that set you claim
Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.

Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang
I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's
My pants hang below my waistline
I look humble wanna rumble?
I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time
Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's
One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches
Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches

I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'
Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood
Slugs for the fuck of it
Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick
If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor
Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore
It's AvireX-to-the-Z
Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV

Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time
Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie
What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health
Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself

Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'
Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer
Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll
Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'
And bruise by the case
Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced
Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings
Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings

We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat
Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.
It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops
Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.

That's how we ride
That's how we ride
That's how we ride
That's how we ride

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822743755aeb55a4604c1c207efd9745

Crooked Letter I - Lyrics - Method Man

Title: Crooked Letter I
Artist: Method Man
Composer(s): Patrick Charles, Mike Chavarria, Denaun M Porter, Clifford M Smith

Lyric:
Ooh! We have returned
Yeah, show you how to flow again
(Show you how to flow again)
It's the rap rule again yo, yo

Street, Meth, we ride like AC and OJ
(That niggaz crazy!)
I runs up on you in broad days, I'm a loose link
I carrys the heaterz, always
Small timers, get left for dead in the hallways
That ill breed, move in warp speed, follow my lead
(Me and my Co-Ds about to OD)
Let me proceed
I'm that OG, you're not in my league
(You know my steez)
I put the smackdown, on you killer clown MCs

I rock for all my niggaz
(I rock for all my niggaz)
That's why I hurt to be here, okay, let me see here
Stat' land, crooked letter is I, we back man
Harder than a dick on viagra gettin' a lap dance
Hittin' like a back hand
(I slap y'all kids)
As if we in a game of Spades, and y'all renig'
John Blaze, not the clothing, 'cuz some of that is slum
(Son, I'm already knowin')
Cut they jeans mad young

In the crooked letter I, it's do or die
Shit, every man fights to stay alive
In the crooked letter I, you should not try
Meth Tical, Streetlife, Killa Bee, why?

In the crooked letter I, it's do or die
Shit, every man fights to stay alive
In the crooked letter I, you should not try
Meth Tical, Streetlife, Killa Bee, why?

Stingy with my doe, even stingier with dojia'
(Told y'all)
You'll never go broke, long as I yo'ya
Maintain your composure, or party over
For stank bitches, who get it twisted like yoga
Holla for a dollar, yea, and y'all ain't gotta go home
(But y'all gotta get the fuck outta here)
Who stay 'Lo' like Jennifer, won't see me a lot
But when you see Vivica, tell her she a fox

We rollin', big truck, sittin' on chrome
(Twistin' a bone)
Talkin' to a bird on the bat phone
Zonin', out the area, roamin'
The closest you could come to my style maybe is clonin'
The Omen
(I'm warnin' you now!)
Niggaz is holdin'
Run up, watch me put one up in your colon
Chizzle town, thugs in the club, like chicks posin'
Lambchop niggaz is sheep in wolf clothing

In the crooked letter I, it's do or die
Shit, every man fights to stay alive
In the crooked letter I, you should not try
Meth Tical, Streetlife, Killa Bee, why?

In the crooked letter I, it's do or die
Shit, every man fights to stay alive
In the crooked letter I, you should not try
Meth Tical, Streetlife, Killa Bee, why?

Beware, danger, shoot off your flares
Warn all your dogs
(Tell 'em we here)
The stat'
(We don't bust our guns in the air)
Never that, y'all don't come out 'til the coast is clear
(Who you suppose to fear?)
Street, I fears no one
You all thumbs, I probably murder you with your gun
When I start lettin' off
(Niggaz is jettin' off)
You straight chicken broth, we holes in your terrycloth

I Double O 3, long time no see
Who mind parts seas, and 'cause blind to see
Some think this industry is just all rhyme and G
Then he make it to the door, and he can't find the key
Don't know what it be, to make y'all follow my lead
Or make this pretty thing on her knees swallow my seed
If rap wasn't rap no more, what would it be?
I don't know, I'd be zonin' sometime, must be the weed
That's shit

In the crooked letter I, it's do or die
Shit, every man fights to stay alive
In the crooked letter I, you should not try
Meth Tical, Streetlife, Killa Bee, why?

Homicide housing, loose linx
Carlton fisk, DC, rest in peace
To the million dollar kid Y
SI, NY, 10304
Sick eyes, size 7
Big nut, what up?

Big up to denaun, good lookin' on the track, nigga
Matter fact, I'm a call Staten island the tri-borough, now on
'Cuz we'll try any fuckin' thing
Homicide housing
Fuck y'all

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06c3e8826b839de33e61e29ee02a5cd9

It Gets No Rougher - Lyrics - Ll Cool J

Title: It Gets No Rougher
Artist: Ll Cool J
Composer(s): Eric Sadler, H Shocklee, K Shocklee, James Todd Smith

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

Lyric:
Let me tell you somethin' about an A-B-C style
The A, the B, the C, the D, the E, the F, the G, the H, the I, the J, the K
The L, the M, the N, the O, the P, the Q, the R, the S, the T, the U
The V, W, X, Y, Z, it's bullshit to me

Rhyme to the rhythm of a or should I give a brother time
And move on, you better get another week to work with or quit
'Cause I'm on some ol' l shit, capable of murder but I never committed
Takin' no shorts so you better forget it

Tracklin' the world on my tone deafen station, taught her
Supercalifalistic emcee executioner
Wicked witch, diggin' your ditch
Givin' ya stitch by stitch, ain't this a bitch

Sweeter than lemonade, stronger than a hand-grenade
Rhymes are laid, go deeper than a mermaid
Louder than a siren, I'm not retirin'
Despirin', admirin' the way I'm gettin' fly
And I sees ecleptoes and I resent those
Brothers who slept on, when they shoulda kept on

Rollin' with rush it don't get no rougher
I stopper, huffer and puffer, a buffer, suffer
I was holdin' back the man superior, right?
You wanna take my title, yo, you'll be aight

You stand below the plateau I stand on
You want my faction to put the man on
I shake and bake and break the laws of gravity
And if you chew on, you'll get a cavity

'Cause I'ma giant, and you're a pee-wee
And all that LL shit, you can't see me
You're cheap and weak, incomplete and off-peak
'Cause it gets no rougher, it gets no rougher

Yo man, you know how we take the order A-B-C emcee's
You know what I'm sayin'?
Yo, cuttin' ain't no joke, yo L, release the juice on 'em

I release the juice smack dab in your face
Do damage, I'm pickin' up the pace
My mics' like a torch when I'm walkin' at nighttime
Straight to the dome, it's like a pipe-line

High speed, stronger than Thai-weed
Before you pick up the mic to get fly
You need all the dope khaki's that you can feature
So I can serve you, you know the procedure

Listen to the man intellectualize, visualize
Your whole posse gettin' paralyzed
I don't wanna hear no alibi's, don't apologize
I'll put the highs' in your eyes!

The bass in your face, like you ditch the attorney, I'm on the case
With rhymes that'll hit ya, get ya and sit ya down
The competition is booty get the picture now?
Skip the record, my road, to get me-a-go

I'm figurin' yo, nigga you know
I won't allow, not now, no way, no how
Any form of disrespect, you better bow
Time gets rough to swamp I do it pump
In between my jaws adversaries got chomped

The cordless mic is my only utensil
Lyrics you be runnin', I break 'em like a pencil
'Cause I'm massive and you're a small fry
You're all in, a stunt, a fall-guy
Outta order I smolder blacks to make you suffer
'Cause it gets no rougher, it gets no rougher

Shut up, the alley cats' got attention to get
And drop these l dope lyrics on ya, the beat is pumpin'
You know what I'm sayin'?

Let me ask you ask a question
Wait a minute
You could take the game of rap and rule it alone
Demonstrate many styles on the microphone
Build an empire like an African king
I had to show apu jack the ripper could swing

I'ma rappers nightmare, I crush my opponents
There's only one title I own it
Emcee's flip-flop, I bust out the workshop
They try to eve's drop, goin' to make rock

Aerodynamically, it's all automatically, the way I jiggly full of originality
Shay-shop 'em and stop 'em like a cheetah and an antelope
Then I cut 'em like a cantalope on the table
They ain't able, I'm a legend, not a fable, gotta keep it stable

Crack your back bone, harder than grim stone
Doin' your justice overseein' like a chaporone
Huh, on the hip-hop scene, I got shit sewn up like a sewin' machine
Eat a rapper like a sandwich, leave 'em in a bandit
Crack the stage and leave the audience damaged

Yeah, get funky on that cut, get funky on it
Yo, l, them lyrics is dope man you know I'm sayin'?
You better raw sick for years
This how we do it dogg
Pump that good man, let's cut us some real, real somethin'
Yo, bust this

I'm kinda like a soldier, see I told ya
When I pick up the mic I'ma hold ya
Captive, a mack-tive, I'll make sure I'll track it
L'll speak a cell a sneak as your backs' gettin' weaker

I freak the beat and get shieker
Rule over king, you're too over-eager
You're tryin' to make a move for
I'ma prove you're ridiculious

I think he was jealous and in the mood for an ass-kickin'
When you mess with, the man with the plan
Mic in his hand and a fresh skit
R-O-U-G-H-E-R, rougher, so here we are

Face to face, mic to mic, man to man
While your battle ship is sinkin' in quicksand
Strappin' to the bottom like a two-ton anchor
And break, pull the rope, point blank, I'm a sniper

Rapper like a pack, step on 'em like a mack
My DJ cut-creator scratch a record like a cat
E at my side with pride who got a bigger rep
Shh smoke the mic like a cigarette

Every puff is rough I pull, kill a bull, one toke, your crews' a joke
I run through rappers like runnin' through rubber holes is
Nigga, I'm comin' up roses
Step back I got the title bear-witness to a dope recital
I've killed many men my friend and I'ma do it again and again and again
'Cause it get no rougher

You know what I'm sayin'? I'm rulin' this game
It don't get no rougher, peace, LL Cool J

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d5e9b10bce5f48582777e3177fd3422d

Likkle Youth Man Dem - Lyrics - Boot Camp Clik

Title: Likkle Youth Man Dem
Artist: Boot Camp Clik
Composer(s): Powell Williams Yate P Hendricks, Mcnair Yate

Lyric:
Ride wit me, so easily
To the other side of the Timberland tree
You can walk wit me, smoke freely
On the other of the Timberland tree

Likkle Youth Man dem said, "What's up trooper?"
No disrespect, to Timothy, 'cuz I know how the Utah
You a true star, shine ya light no matter what ya mood for
I got my eye on you, 'cuz you represent the future

We be ya gun busters, your gold rushers
Quick to touch and stuff ya, D.O. quicker picker upper, truth

My mind dwellin', there's no tellin' who you see whore
Ac' and night, pass to the right, 'cuz the weed cause speed ball
Through time laughin', jokin', smokin', talkin' about AK blastin'

Don't make me madder than I am already
Despite it might be a fight, between a loose bullet and a machete
I'm steadily raisin my voice to prove a point
Better be on point, or join inside to put my joint
Like Spike, we might desice to act up
You relax, huh, it was Likkle Youth Man, the attacker

Likkle Youth Man Dem, Likkle, Likkle Youth Man
You can take a walk wit me and see
Likkle, Likkle, Youth Man Dem, Likkle Youth Man
To the other side of the Timberland tree

Ride wit me, so easily
To the other side of the Timberland tree
You can walk wit me, smoke freely
On the other of the Timberland tree

What it is? And welcome to the real world, Dig'
I'm not tryin' to prophecize, I just wanna see ya life
But you insist on bee in face, to let the world mind them
Die die, gon, you curse your mother, wit no problem
And steal a chicken, act fly, you couldn't hold back the cry
When officer mon come give your last pat on ya back side
Offi' take a look at eye, no meet 'em trife and bar
Because I choose Jah and live as Rastafari

You can, touch me, hear me, smell, see and feel me
I pray to God, that makes me real G O D

I see young bloods in the street yards
Talkin' 'bout, peace, God, seen God, became a piece
And nigga slang how hard, to be, but I take you through
If you got a few, do it right, somethin' like the God rule, the yonder do

I see what you mean, I feel, my brother's don't listen
But how to capitalize, is how my rod is fishin'
Deep sea, water, time is gettin' shorter
So books and things, they get tossed upon the brawler

Yea, but a lesson learned is a jewel earned for the keepin'
So I stay reachin' and keep my ass out the precinct

So, whose to say, crews today
Is really what them bullshit out there, that niggas is tryin' to say
Everything I hear, niggas talk about that
They be walkin' the streets, and be off wit the gat
Niggas act like you know, if you don't know how to act
Then ya set ya self up for the Originoo Gunn Clap

We are the wickedest gunn from outta New York
People them talk about them gunn out the buck
You want them to get just brought up, you fooled up
War is in the midst, and the richie wound up deader

Just the other day, my man from around the way
Used to brag to me, how he smoked a pound a day
He said, "Resistance" niggas get hit up wit the instance
Struck from a far, boyakah from a distance

Ride wit me, so easily
To the other side of the Timberland tree
You can walk wit me, smoke freely
On the other of the Timberland tree

As I knowledge the environment, I ascend
On a mission, reminiscin' bout memories missin'
Wishin' bout moves I should of made
Games I should of never played
Nights I should of stayed in the crib

It's been a while since my sun shine
So many dark clouds out tryin' to smother mine
As soon as my boot touch asphalt
Plain clothes and those molds, bee min at my grill, tryin' assault
Out my features, sayin' I match pictures
They had in they possession, said they wanted out for question

No lesson soon that we know never
Where I'm goin', what I'm doin', who, showin' who's proven
All I see is fools gluin' on the corner snoozin'
Choosin' routes that leave them ass out, straight loosin'
Whose in the case to faced for some irrelevant cause
Fightin' was that keep the people back off the walls

Of course you be lookin' out, like feel look out on the spot
'Bout be tooken out, jakes stickin' out, where we hangin' out
So while I'm just tryin' to see how you makin' out
What you thinkin' 'bout, who you thinkin' 'bout
Seein' if it's me then, will it be to make a meanin'
Right now, seems to be the place

Ride wit me, so easily
To the other side of the Timberland tree
You can walk wit me, smoke freely
On the other of the Timberland tree

Ride wit me, so easily
To the other side of the Timberland tree
You can walk wit me, smoke freely
On the other of the Timberland tree

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d17af821767deef4a4a6a449d543b0b8