Showing posts sorted by relevance for query That'S The Nigga. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query That'S The Nigga. Sort by date Show all posts

Thursday, August 19, 2010

That'S The Nigga - Lyrics - Ghetto Fabulous - Mystikal

Title: That'S The Nigga
Album: Ghetto Fabulous
Artist: Mystikal
Composer(s): Shawn Leigh Moltke, Michael Tyler, Marlon Lu'Ree Williams

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

Lyric:
Say K, are we gon' lay up back?
Kick this bitch raw, you heard me
Like some of that ol' [Incomprehensible] shit

Microphone check, check, check one
Microphone check, check, check two
Microphone check, check, check three
Microphone check, check, check four

What y'all niggas wanna do, how y'all gon' do it?
Check, check one, kick this shit raw
Y'all know me

They say that's the nigga, that's the nigga
That's the nigga, that's the nigga
That's the nigga, that's the nigga
That's the nigga, that's the nigga

Turn your hands towards your ass an' say bye bye
From the South side, South side, puff ya ya ya
Nothin' but the fire ya
Eardrums snatchin', champion, cheap rhyme busters
'Til the day I die

I say I lie
Bitch, I'll be fuckin' on your grave singin', ?Ay la ba?
I throw 'em off, I'm two scoops from coo coo
I swoosh through your fruit loops, poo poo in your Fubu

Y'all niggas remember what happened to that mosquito
Tweeter tweeter, the MC, the sweeter I be [Incomprehensible]
Stop your water, turn off your gas, cut off your lights
Move you out, cut your grass, watch your kids, fuck your wife

Like a bacon, egg an' cheese sandwich, I'm good
Mmm, like syrup on the biscuit an' orange juice [Incomprehensible]
Come an' let me take you by the hand an' walk ya
I'm the thief in the night that slide your drawers off ya

Watch where ya steppin', I'm a verbal weapon
Bring more pain then when John Wayne came on old westerns
What is the actual fuckin' meanin'?
I come in this bitch without leavin', this bitch that think we leanin'

It's been like that since way back
I used to rock eight tracks before I rocked eight decks
Concepts goin', stay fat, concerts goin', stay packed
Ownership's goin', stay black, nigga, this is payback

I scrape ya somethin' crawlin' to establishment
Now I'm Country Club livin' from the scribble, scrabblin' my talent
Proper, proper droppin' somethin' decent
Y'all niggas is as fucked up as Santa Clause for Easter

I'm a keep comin' as long as KLC keep drummin'
An' the only way to stop me is call the people for me
Fuck them people, I'll fuck over you if I have to
That's the nigga, that's that bastard

That's the nigga, that's the nigga
That's the nigga, that's the nigga
That's the nigga, that's the nigga
That's the nigga, that's the nigga

That's the nigga, that's the nigga
That's the nigga, that's the nigga
That's the nigga, that's the nigga
That's the nigga, that's that bastard

I'm that nigga, I'm that the nigga
I'm that nigga, I'm that the nigga
I'm that nigga, I'm that the nigga
I'm that nigga, I'm that the nigga

Who that with that say they can't sell, boy?
They from third ward, I'm from 12th ward
For y'all [Incomprehensible]
The guitars on these boys an' get down an' go off

All sides get high when they ride to my words
They mine an' they high when I'm live in concert
Fuck who you bringin', just ain't no show [Incomprehensible]
I don't need nine or ten pack
Of niggas rappin' with me, I'm independent

Make frontin', stuntin' niggas lose their stomach
They lose their clout, they lose their cool
An' after I come in this bitch, they lose their woman
Hello Ghetto Fabulous an' big mansions an' fine fabrics
Like a man, my money an' my pussy come automatic

You don't wanna status with a hardcore rhyme fanatic
Full speed dead at it, vocabulary acrobatic
That's him, that's that rapper
That's the man, that's the nigga, that's that bastard

That's the nigga, that's the nigga
That's the nigga, that's the nigga

What is the actually fuckin' meanin'?

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7f9a3893f1bdbfdfa8e5756288d8dfb1

Sunday, August 8, 2010

That'S What'S Up - Lyrics - Guess Who's Back? - 50 Cent

Title: That'S What'S Up
Album: Guess Who's Back?
Artist: 50 Cent
Composer(s): Curtis James Jackson

Lyric:
G-Unit, G-Unit, G-Unit
G-Unit, G-Unit, G-Unit
G-Unit, G-Unit, G-Unit
G-Unit, G-Unit, G-Unit

G-Unit nigga that's what's up
G-Unit nigga that's what's up
G-Unit nigga that's what's up

G-Unit nigga that's what's up
G-Unit nigga that's what's up
G-Unit nigga that's what's up

I blast 50 Cent nigga that's what's up

Right now my life movin' to fast to stop and pray
See every now and then I smile just not today
In my hood they let the choppers spray
Somebody probably got shot today
I named 'em pop when niggas surfboard
You ain't stoppin' me dawg

Only time you left ya hood is on Monopoly boards
You grimey as birds shittin' on the top of ya Fords
You will, die by the gun if you ain't droppin' ya sword
I got tattoos as well as lead marks
To me fucking is kinda like racin' and I always get a head start
My opinion of a sweet dream is a dead NARC
Just yesterday guns is blastin' with red darts

Beef, you a target 'cause when we come at yo ass
Aladdin won't be the only one the carpet
Man, you wanna play wit' a ringer
I ain't a people's person
I'll give my next door neighbor the finger
(Fuck you)

Even though I got the shit in the stores
I'm like a nigga that borrow clothes
Bitch, I'm tryin' to get in ya draws
Man, I'll dump a whole clip in ya mans braids
Pussies love Nelly, he made it look cool to wear band aids
I'm blowin' on damn haze

All of a sudden I'm gased, 'cause I'm on the radio and I can't wait
If you ain't up on thangs
Lloyd Banks is the name, G-Units the game
Now I know to keep low when the heat blow
I'll have niggas post up on ya block like I'm shootin' the free throw
Still get the green from P-dro, better known as Pedro

I'm ghetto like a patty ya egg roll
Yeah, they feinin' to stick me
They don't know the meanings is wit' me
Snuck in wit Christina and Brittney
You only spend time at the mall
On New Years eve a body drops around
The same time as the ball
(Yeah)

G-Unit, G-Unit, G-Unit
G-Unit, G-Unit, G-Unit
G-Unit, G-Unit, G-Unit
G-Unit, G-Unit, G-Unit

G-Unit nigga that's what's up
G-Unit nigga that's what's up
G-Unit nigga that's what's up

G-Unit nigga that's what's up
G-Unit nigga that's what's up
G-Unit nigga that's what's up
That's what's up

Keep thinkin' I'm candy ain't nuttin' sweet about me
Nigaas talkin' in the pens and in the street about me
Some jake, tryin' to watch every move I make
'Cause my Deez'll make fiends do the up-town shake

I'm a pro, far from a amateur
Holdin' more keys than your fuckin' janitor
They say, "God bless the child that could hold his own"
You pay cops to hold you down, I just hold the chrome

Every breath I take, every step I take, every move I make
I got a ruger on my hip
You ain't gotta like or love me but you gone respect me
You need a fifth and 2 clips to try and check me
12 in the afternoon we can start the clappin'

Look homie I'm down for that day-time action
Keep thinkin' it's a game time in front of ya home
Get the drop on that ass and shot shadder ya bones
(Yeah)

G-Unit, G-Unit, G-Unit
G-Unit, G-Unit, G-Unit
G-Unit, G-Unit, G-Unit
G-Unit, G-Unit, G-Unit

G-Unit nigga that's what's up
G-Unit nigga that's what's up
G-Unit nigga that's what's up

G-Unit nigga that's what's up
G-Unit nigga that's what's up
G-Unit nigga that's what's up

Listen boy, Tony be the real McCoy
When hoes see the new toy, they jump for joy
And even though the kid rappin'
I still got fiens in the hood puffin' on that Magic Dragon
My guns under my pillow, I sleep wit' my shoes on
Every single night me and my mack get our groove on

Don't get moved on
'Cause I shoot through your bicepts your triceps
Then breeze through ya projects when the coke come back
It's the China White and the D don't sweat us in a bag a rice
Let's ride O T and burn the tape

I got this bad mommy, her mouth's a sperm bank
Since Yayo be a fearless man
I donate my heart to them niggas that ran
And those niggas in the hood don't wanna see me famous
They rather see my moms make funeral arrangements
I got enough rhymes, to fill 6 notebooks

I been spittin' that shit ever since coke crushed
You can hear me on your T.V. and radio at the same time
I never ever say the same rhyme, it's Tony 2 times
Beware of my wraith, I'm gone school you niggas, prepare for class
Yo I peep where your puns at, peep where you pumped that
Money you tryin' to stack I spent it on blunt wraps

Word to my mother nigga 50 fuckin' Cent nigga, G-Unit nigga
We about to gorilla this industry man
Y'all niggas better know, y'all niggas better fear us nigga
Word to my mother nigga, fuck y'all niggas wanna do
1 2 4 nigga G-Unit, 50 Cent, Tony Yayo
Lloyd Banks nigga

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60c6808bc4bcbe6818e1c80056c487f3

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Pop U - Lyrics - Reality Check - Juvenile

Title: Pop U
Album: Reality Check
Artist: Juvenile
Composer(s): Joseph Anthony Cartagena, Terius Gray, Christopher Bridges, Mike Dean

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

Lyric:
You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u
You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u

You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u
You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u

Who that nigga is
What that nigga claim
Juve wild magnolia
It's an uptown thing

Soulja watchin' over me
So I'ma let it rain
Just give me the weed, the mic
And I'ma let it off the chain

Y'all actin' like, that nigga lost it, I ain't have no money
Now I'm back, what the cost is
[Incomprehensible] on my wrist lookin' gooey
These ain't Birdman's, these is real Gucci's

Turn around the corner
Motherfucker tryin' to sue me
Talkin' shit to me so I can hit him with a two-piece
We rock, we he roll, where he got control

Me and my mans and them
Get the brains out these hoes
If she can dance, then
She can romance nice and slow

Be in a trance like it was
Your man's pipe in the hole
I've been sippin' a little somethin'
Just stop servin' the game
It feel good to be an OG, I'm deservin' it mayne

I'm the nigga, nigga
The nigga, nigga, the nigga
The nigga, nigga, Ju-a-vey
I'm the nigga, nigga
The nigga, the nigga, nigga
The nigga, nigga, nigga, Ju-a-vey

You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u
You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u

You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u
You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u

Now ain't no tellin' where I might be
'Cause there's a million other creeps
Prancin' around these streets lookin' like me
Call 'em my stunt doubles

So if you think you hit Luda' with the Krueger
I'm up in Cuba blowin' blunt bubbles
On the double, lookin' for trouble we started
The eye on my gat is cocked it's retarded

I'm sippin' lean, smokin' green and I'm so hot
I told machine's people call me 'I Robot'
Bang to the boogey boogey, bang bang
Let my little partner borrow my necklace
And hit bitches with the same chain

Its not computer love, I'm gettin' great brain
Got a hard drive but they blow me out my mainframe

Now how you like that?
I got your momma pitchin' quarters
On the corner gettin' cornered
And come right back

I'm makin' tight stacks so if it ain't Juve or Luda
Then can it nigga, we don't even like rap

I'm the nigga, nigga
The nigga, nigga, the nigga
The nigga, nigga, Ju-a-vey
I'm the nigga, nigga
The nigga, the nigga, nigga
The nigga, nigga, nigga, Ju-a-vey

You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u
You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u

You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u
You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u

Got the Mack in the grass
And the nine in the dumpster
Duck when they pass
One time wanna dump ya'

Hunger, that's what I got in my veins
Take shots from the Henny
Just to straighten my aim

Now, I raise my middle finger, "Fuck the world"
And them donuts in that car better make ya' hurl
Yeah, I'm 'bout my paper mayne
I'm fully loaded like them niggaz in Jamaica mayne

I know you know this is Crack
And he's back and you mad
'Cause we did and they yack-ity yak

In the sack when we slid in
Mommy shakin' they ass
She want some big bills
Tip drill, she wants a tip drill

It's ya' nigga crack
Live with some fresh cut
Side of the highway
Ridin' that's the best fuck

And you can keep them hotel keys
'Cause we gon' fuck these bitches
Wherever we please

I'm the nigga, nigga
The nigga, nigga, the nigga
The nigga, nigga, Ju-a-vey
I'm the nigga, nigga
The nigga, the nigga, nigga
The nigga, nigga, nigga, Ju-a-vey

You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u
You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u

You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u
You gon' make me pop you
I'ma have to pop u

Play the MP3 online for free!
2e54fb01fd06dbdebfae56173031c9f2

Monday, August 16, 2010

The Nigga Of The Century - Lyrics - War And Peace Vol. 2 (Peace) - Ice Cube

Title: The Nigga Of The Century
Album: War And Peace Vol. 2 (Peace)
Artist: Ice Cube
Composer(s): O'Shea Jackson, Charly Charles

Lyric:
Say you little son of a bitch, what you tryin' to be?
When I'm big I wanna be a thug

You wanna be a thug, huh?
What you know about a thug, huh?
You wanna see the bad guy? Look at Ice Cube, that's the bad guy
You need people like him, can point your fingers

Huh? The fuck you know about this shit?
You ready to die? Okay
Where is that, you ready?
'Cuz they ain't touch the bad guy, okay?

I'm the nigga of the century
Oh, so zhuu a bad guy, c'mon prove it
C'mon, you think you bad? How bad you are?

I'm the nigga of the century
C'mon let's see how bad you are
C'mon bad guy, c'mon

We the worsest, all purpose, you want murderers?
We service, hatin' motherfuckers with curb dust
You heard us, don't shit make us nervous
Not even when these fuckin' feds try to serve us

Mention me, when you write it in your history
As a nigga with the key to the mystery
Grand motta ain word don't mean shit to me
Who gives a fuck what they think and what they see

Live how I got to live, give what I got to give
Teach my kids positive, as well as the negative
Hope to raise better kids
The world needs a sedative, pray to God that we let him live

'Cuz you're bad guy, I'm the nigga of the century
The diamond scruff, all you niggas better mention me
Me that's who it ain't no mystery
Goin' down in history, niggas better mention me

You better mention me, I'm the nigga of the century
Okay, all you niggas better mention me
Me that's who it ain't no mystery
Goin' down in history, niggas better mention me

A nigga told me to keep hope alive
Survive and '95, I'll get you paradise
So I tried, nigga had to swallow his pride
But look into my eyes, I'm too wise to cook fries

Twelfth grade graduation, summer vacation
Mama said, ?Get the facin' on them applications?
Didn't know back then, I was too young
Public school made me dumb as a motherfucker

What should I do in my life
Reverend Price, do you got some advice before I roll the dice
A nigga don't wanna shoot craps, 'cuz it ain't all fun and games
When you tryin' to get that money Mang

Gang bang, maintain a slang cane
TV got a nigga where he can't use his brain
What the fuck you talkin' 'bout, choose or lose
Bitch I don't know the motherfuckin' rules for real

'Cuz you're bad guy, I'm the nigga of the century
The diamond scruff, all you niggas better mention me
Me that's who it ain't no mystery
Goin' down in history, niggas better mention me

You better mention me, I'm the nigga of the century
Okay, all you niggas better mention me
Me that's who it ain't no mystery
Goin' down in history, niggas better mention me

Who am I when it's do or die
You can see a man's soul through the human eye
Can't spend all your lifetime gettin' high
'Cuz you and I got to do, for you and I

Actin' wild as a juvenile
Now my whole life depends on the outcome of a trial
Wait pow, these people ain't playin' now
Got to bring 85 percent of the time now

Fuck that, rather roll with the ruff pack
In the jet black, listenin' to ruff rap
It's quite simple, you bitche ass niggas don't know
What I've been through, the weather's presidential

The warfare's mental
I sell my soul to the lord for the perfect instrumental
And the number two pencil
And all the hustle found in chromosomes of my kinfolk

'Cuz you're bad guy, I'm the nigga of the century
The diamond scruff, all you niggas better mention me
Me that's who it ain't no mystery
Goin' down in history, niggas better mention me

You better mention me, I'm the nigga of the century
Okay, all you niggas better mention me
Me that's who it ain't no mystery
Goin' down in history, nigga of the century

Call Loko, take it easy Mang, you got it
You leave it the fuckin' illest nigga to fuckin' shit
That's no problem with that, gonna fuck that
Gonna have a fuckin' heart attack

It's over, everybody knows now
It's no fuckin' secret
You know this motherfucker, okay
It's over, that's it, die bang, bang, bang

I got that bomb, bomb
Ti-ti-tity, bomb, bomb, bomb
When I hit you, uhh

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5fc8e30ed8fd3f73494489029b83f522

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

N**** Of The Century - Lyrics - Ice Cube

Title: N**** Of The Century
Artist: Ice Cube
Composer(s): O'Shea Jackson, Charly Charles

Lyric:
Say you little son of a bitch, what you tryin' to be?
When I'm big I wanna be a thug

You wanna be a thug, huh?
What you know about a thug, huh?
You wanna see the bad guy? Look at Ice Cube, that's the bad guy
You need people like him, can point your fingers

Huh? The fuck you know about this shit?
You ready to die? Okay
Where is that, you ready?
'Cuz they ain't touch the bad guy, okay?

I'm the nigga of the century
Oh, so zhuu a bad guy, c'mon prove it
C'mon, you think you bad? How bad you are?

I'm the nigga of the century
C'mon let's see how bad you are
C'mon bad guy, c'mon

We the worsest, all purpose, you want murderers?
We service, hatin' motherfuckers with curb dust
You heard us, don't shit make us nervous
Not even when these fuckin' feds try to serve us

Mention me, when you write it in your history
As a nigga with the key to the mystery
Grand motta ain word don't mean shit to me
Who gives a fuck what they think and what they see

Live how I got to live, give what I got to give
Teach my kids positive, as well as the negative
Hope to raise better kids
The world needs a sedative, pray to God that we let him live

'Cuz you're bad guy, I'm the nigga of the century
The diamond scruff, all you niggas better mention me
Me that's who it ain't no mystery
Goin' down in history, niggas better mention me

You better mention me, I'm the nigga of the century
Okay, all you niggas better mention me
Me that's who it ain't no mystery
Goin' down in history, niggas better mention me

A nigga told me to keep hope alive
Survive and '95, I'll get you paradise
So I tried, nigga had to swallow his pride
But look into my eyes, I'm too wise to cook fries

Twelfth grade graduation, summer vacation
Mama said, ?Get the facin' on them applications?
Didn't know back then, I was too young
Public school made me dumb as a motherfucker

What should I do in my life
Reverend Price, do you got some advice before I roll the dice
A nigga don't wanna shoot craps, 'cuz it ain't all fun and games
When you tryin' to get that money Mang

Gang bang, maintain a slang cane
TV got a nigga where he can't use his brain
What the fuck you talkin' 'bout, choose or lose
Bitch I don't know the motherfuckin' rules for real

'Cuz you're bad guy, I'm the nigga of the century
The diamond scruff, all you niggas better mention me
Me that's who it ain't no mystery
Goin' down in history, niggas better mention me

You better mention me, I'm the nigga of the century
Okay, all you niggas better mention me
Me that's who it ain't no mystery
Goin' down in history, niggas better mention me

Who am I when it's do or die
You can see a man's soul through the human eye
Can't spend all your lifetime gettin' high
'Cuz you and I got to do, for you and I

Actin' wild as a juvenile
Now my whole life depends on the outcome of a trial
Wait pow, these people ain't playin' now
Got to bring 85 percent of the time now

Fuck that, rather roll with the ruff pack
In the jet black, listenin' to ruff rap
It's quite simple, you bitche ass niggas don't know
What I've been through, the weather's presidential

The warfare's mental
I sell my soul to the lord for the perfect instrumental
And the number two pencil
And all the hustle found in chromosomes of my kinfolk

'Cuz you're bad guy, I'm the nigga of the century
The diamond scruff, all you niggas better mention me
Me that's who it ain't no mystery
Goin' down in history, niggas better mention me

You better mention me, I'm the nigga of the century
Okay, all you niggas better mention me
Me that's who it ain't no mystery
Goin' down in history, nigga of the century

Call Loko, take it easy Mang, you got it
You leave it the fuckin' illest nigga to fuckin' shit
That's no problem with that, gonna fuck that
Gonna have a fuckin' heart attack

It's over, everybody knows now
It's no fuckin' secret
You know this motherfucker, okay
It's over, that's it, die bang, bang, bang

I got that bomb, bomb
Ti-ti-tity, bomb, bomb, bomb
When I hit you, uhh

Play the MP3 online for free!
11ff233b6696830ae181e5ce0c612013

Thursday, August 19, 2010

That'S That Shit - Lyrics - Tarantula - Mystikal

Title: That'S That Shit
Album: Tarantula
Artist: Mystikal
Composer(s): Chad Hugo, Craig Lawson, Michael Tyler, Pharrell Williams

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

Lyric:
Shit, shit, Mystikal
That's that, that's that
That's that, that's that
That's that, that's that
That's that shit

That's the reason the bitches be trying to get the worm out the zipper
That's the reason niggas gon' have to learn that I'm the ripper
Scrape up crumbs and turn 'em into nickels
Then bounce 'em into dimes then I turn 'em into flippers

I can't do my rhymes like you do yo rhymes 'cause it isn't
You can't make your shit try to sound like mine 'cause it isn't
I run right at the top of the line, get your mind right nigga
Murder was the case 'cause I shine at night nigga

The man with the braids in his hair, two tounged live nigga
Let him fire nigga, I ride with five niggas
Live from the west and I bring it back home
Ducked off in the bonneville, blowing up the zone

Roamin', cutting up on my cell phone
Hundred miles per hour in the wind and I'm gone
Watch them jails find the twenty inch wheels twirls
Hoes hatin' in the back, fuck 'em girl

I stand up like a pit, swingin' my big dick
Take a picture, feet stickin' like scotch tape bitch
I swear to God I'll fuck over yay yay
Have you sitting on your porch, gettin' pushed in your rocking chair

That's that, that's that
That's that, that's that
That's that, that's that
That's that shit

That's that, that's that
That's that, that's that
That's that, that's that
That's that shit

I come in to put my two cents on a two inch
Tearing down the fuckin' building and the blue prints
Any sign of intrudence, come your ass down here
And ask them who the fool is
Raise your hand and talk to the teacher, no, students, students

I like to sing a about the boota and the tooters
Smoke the purple bubble gum, merge crazy blue vooda
Y'all past tense, I'm the black prince ruler
Sharp shooter, chopatula to talula

Point blank bitch, gone, gone
Full blast turning up the water all the way on
Hi, my name is, Mystikal

I handle my business, deliver my lyrics ever since I hit the door
When I come around in this muthafucka your arms fall off
You can't touch me, your jaw break, you don't say nothing
Fuck around and let my second wind kick in
I better be makin' you feel like the booty that the dick went in bitch

That's that, that's that
That's that, that's that
That's that, that's that
That's that shit

That's that, that's that
That's that, that's that
That's that, that's that
That's that shit

That's that, that's that shit
That's that, that's that shit bitch
That's that, thats that
Thats that shit

That's that, that's that
That's that, that's that
That's that, that's that
That's that shit

Play the MP3 online for free!
b5949784eabdd7d0f6ec589124560b6a

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Kronologik - Lyrics - Stoned Raiders - Cypress Hill

Title: Kronologik
Album: Stoned Raiders
Artist: Cypress Hill
Composer(s): Louis Freese, Lawrence Muggerud, Ricardo Brown

Lyric:
You don't know no real shit, nigga
This the original Cypress Hill shit, nigga
We numb niggas, ya don't feel shit, nigga
You ain't on no real shit, nigga

You don't know no real shit, nigga
This the original Cypress Hill shit, nigga
We numb niggas, ya don't feel shit, nigga
You ain't on no real shit, nigga

'91, Cypress Hill burst upon the scene
Three crazy, gun-totin' niggas smokin' weed
Talkin' about life on records was the whole plan
So we put out the phuncky feel, but you were feelin' guilty and kill a man
That was about the time we was openin' up for loyalty?
Didn't know shit, we were jus' tryin' to rock the party

'92, a year later, 'bout a million records sold
From doin' shows like lollapalooza on the road
Buildin' up momentum, whilst spittin' deadly venom
Takin' pictures for high times, me mugs and sen
Chillin' with the beastie boys, smokin' lots of weed
But it was time to hit the studio for another LP

'93, black Sunday hits, with critical acclaim
Had a monster hit from insane in the brain
Topped the charts, held the spot, for six weeks to boot
It was a trip to note, that we was the first ones to do it
In rap music, but it was a feat none the less
So we started gettin' paid and I stopped smokin' stress

You don't know no real shit, nigga
This the original Cypress Hill shit, nigga
We numb niggas, ya don't feel shit, nigga
You ain't on no real shit, nigga

You don't know no real shit, nigga
This the original Cypress Hill shit, nigga
We numb niggas, ya don't feel shit, nigga
You ain't on no real shit, nigga

'94 still in the door and we conquered many tours
With Rage Against Tthe Machine, House Of Pain and many more
Was even invited to Woodstock, some niggas from the block
Called up Eric Bobo and half a million rocked
How could all this happen at 24 years of age?
Half a million bouncin' to your shit from off the stage

'95 I was alive and survived so far
Still tryin' to cope with bein' a rap star
'Cos that's the type of shit that can really affect your mental
This was evident, in the way I broke the tempo
With confusin', pain, enhanced illusions
But I still kept my set up with the critics bein' abusive
Even the record company, they became illusive
When it comes to showin' support for the Cypress institution

'96 wit' no support we were still makin' moves
Cypress Hill, in the summer, we were on the Smokin' Grooves
But like every legend every click, someone had to split
So the Dogg left the house, shit was gettin' kinda thick
I was with the electric lady, we was talkin' about babies
But the groupies on the road don't help me from misbehavin'

You don't know no real shit, nigga
This the original Cypress Hill shit, nigga
We numb niggas, ya don't feel shit, nigga
You ain't on no real shit, nigga

'97 was the trip, it was the year we killed the feud
Between us and Cube, over shit nobody knew
The Dogg came back home but after Smokin' Grooves 2
Chillin' with George Clinton and Erykah Badu
This was a crazy time, we were flowin' off the boo
Niggas on stage, trippin' on the 'shrooms

'98 was kinda great, 'cos it felt just like before
We hit the studio, recorded Cypress Hill IV
But someone dropped the ball, as I still recall
'Cos it felt Cypress Hill got no support at all
We did the last Smokin' Grooves, but did it all with Sen
And the old chemistry, just reared it's head again

'99 I got to recline, because there was no doubt
That the first year was a success, of the Smoke Out
'99 was even better than the year of '98
And Skull And Bones was comin' out, kickin' from the gate

Two-thousand fifteen million records sold
They broke the mold, but there's others along the road
But we still keep rollin' on from Heaven to Atlantis
Droppin' shit in English and makin' albums in Spanish

Two-thousand and one! God damn, who knows what's in store?
Just as long as motherfuckers know, who's knockin' on the door
We remain unjaded and still we go unfaded
See how long we made it and never been outdated

We ain't goin' out, motherfucker
That's right, fuck that!
You don't know
That's big time Cypress Hill
Motherfuckin' renovators up here

You don't know no real shit, nigga
This the original Cypress Hill shit, nigga
We numb niggas, ya don't feel shit, nigga
You ain't on no real shit, nigga

You don't know no real shit, nigga
This the original Cypress Hill shit, nigga
We numb niggas, ya don't feel shit, nigga
You ain't on no real shit, nigga

It's the real
Nigga, nigga
Ni-ni-nigga
This the original Cypress Hill shit, nigga
Nigga, nigga
Nigga
Cypress, nigga!
Yeah!

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6a1646f9e2e489369a26d3fba84a6624

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Z - Threat - Lyrics - The Black Album - Jay

Title: Z - Threat
Album: The Black Album
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Shawn Carter, Robert S Kelly

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

Lyric:
Yo once a pimp gets threats
That's right, that's the the that's, that's threats them
And I'm serious about mine, I'm so sin-surr
And I, nigga I'll kill ya, I'll chop ya up
Put ya inside the mattress like drug money nigga

Yeah, I done told you niggaz 9 or 10 times stop fuckin' with me
I done told you niggaz 9 albums, stop fuckin' with me
I done told you niggaz the 9 on me, stop fuckin' with me
You niggaz must got 9 lives, 9th wonder

Put that knife in ya, take a little bit of life from ya
Am I frightenin' ya? Shall I continue?
I put the gun to ya, I let it sing you a song
I let it hum to ya, the other one sing along

Now it's a duet, and you wet, when you check out
The technique from the 2 tecs and I don't need two lips
To blow this like a trumpet you dumb shit
This is a un-usual musical I conductin'

You lookin' at the black Warren Buffett so all critics can duck sic
I don't care if you C. Delores Tuck-it
Or you Bill O'Reilly, you only rilin' me up
For three years, they had me peein' out of a cup

Now they 'bout to free me up, whatchu think I'm gon' be, what?
Rehabilitated, man I still feel hatred
I'm young black and rich so they wanna strip me naked, but
You never had me like Christina Aguiler-y

But catch me down the Westside, drivin' like Halle Berry
Or the FDR, in the seat of my car
Screamin' out the sunroof, death to y'all
You can't kill me, I live forever through these bars

I put the wolves on ya, I put a price on your head
The whole hood'll want ya, you startin' to look like bread
I send them boys at ya, I ain't talkin' bout Feds
Nigga them body-snatchers, nigga you heard what I said

I make 'em wait for you 'til five in the mornin'
Put your smarts on the side of your garment
Nigga stop fuckin' with me
R I P

That's right there nigga, nigga I'm wild
Nigga I keep trash bags with me
Never know when you gotta dump a nigga out
This sin-surr, this some sin-surr shit right here

Grown man I put hands on you, I dig a hole in the desert
They build The Sands on you, lay out blueprint plans on you
We Rat Pack niggaz, let Sam tap dance on you
Then, I Sinatra shot ya God damn you

I put the boy in the box like David Blaine
Let the audience watch, it ain't a thang
Y'all wish I was frontin', I George Bush the button
Front of all you in your car lift up your hood nigga run it

Then lift up your whole hood like you got oil under it
Your boy got the goods, y'all don't want nuttin' of it
Like, castor oil, I Castor Troy you
Change your face or the bullets change all that for you

Y'all niggaz is targets, y'all garages for bullets
Please don't make me park it in your upper level
Valet a couple strays from the 38 special, nigga
God bless you

I make 'em wait for you 'til five in the mornin'
Put your smarts on the side of your garment
Nigga stop fuckin' with me
R I P

Yeah I'm threatenin' ya, yeah I'm threatenin' ya
Who you thank you dealin' with?
They call me Chris, nigga I been makin' threats
Since I been in kindergarten nigga
Huh, ask about me, see if you ain't heard

When the gun is tucked, untucked, nigga you dies
Like numchuks held by the Jet L-I
I'm the one, thus meanin' no one must try
No two, no three, no four, know why?

Because one's four-five might blow yo' high
You ain't gotta go to church to get to know yo' God
It's a match made in heaven when I 'splay the 7
Put you on the nigga news, UPN at 11

Where you been, you ain't heard, got the word that I'm
That I'm so sin-surr?
I'm especially Joe Pesci with a grin
I will kill you, commit suicide, and kill you again, that's right

I make 'em wait for you 'til five in the mornin'
Put your smarts on the side of your garment
Nigga stop fuckin' with me
R I P

Whattup? Motherfucker I keep three motherfuckers what?
Nigga I'll throw a Molotov cocktail
Through your momma's momma's house
Nigga what the, where everybody live

Undercover nigga take your teeth out your mouth nigga
Chew your food up and put the shit back
In your mouth nigga and help you swallow
Nigga I take a mop handle off nigga
And sweep nigga, hold on, I'll be nigga what?

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eee04743b45dd0db64349d5880a764f0

Monday, August 16, 2010

That'S The Way - Lyrics - Thug Mentality 1999 - Krayzie Bone

Title: That'S The Way
Album: Thug Mentality 1999
Artist: Krayzie Bone
Composer(s): Michael Siefert, Anthony Henderson

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

Lyric:
This is for the hustlas, hustlas
This is for the hustlas, hustlas
This is for the hustlas, hustlas
This is for the hustlas, hustlas

This is for the hustlas, hustlas
This is for the hustlas, hustlas
This is for the hustlas, hustlas
This is for the hustlas, hustlas

That's the way that we hustle
'Cause we struggle everyday, everyday, pain, so much pain
That's the way that we hustle
'Cause we struggle everyday, everyday, pain, so much pain

That's the way that we hustle
'Cause we struggle everyday, everyday, pain, so much pain
That's the way that we hustle
'Cause we struggle everyday, everyday, pain, so much pain

Come, follow me now
Back in the day we still was thuggin'
Nothin' changed, always into somethin'
Whatever you name

A young thug with my niggas, it's one love
Little bad ass niggas sneaky
A calm collected slickster
I might not have been on the scene

But you could believe I was in the picture
In the mixture selling llello
Scrapping, car jackin', gun packin'
I'm lacking everything, you can't imagine so I'm praying

Rapping can get me up out this jam
Damn, just gimme a chance
I'll keep 'em dancin', dancin', all night, all night
But times got harder and harder

My dreams got further and further away
And nigga, I chased them but couldn't catch them to save my life
So now I'm thugging on this corner
I gotta increase my financial status

I chance it fucking with these rollers when they roll up
Yeah, don't wanna be locked in no cell
But I also can't take strippin's and be broke with no mail
Oh yes, it's hell, and they say that gets easier
But to me it only got deeper and deeper

That's the way that we hustle
'Cause we struggle everyday, everyday, pain, so much pain
That's the way that we hustle
'Cause we struggle everyday, everyday, pain, so much pain

That's the way that we hustle
'Cause we struggle everyday, everyday, pain, so much pain
That's the way that we hustle
'Cause we struggle everyday, everyday, pain, so much pain

Just turned eighteen and caught my first case
Incarcerated, caught with a twelve guage
Trying to come up with some money and made a stupid-ass mistake
Could have been my niggas fate, fucking with shotguns

We out to rob some niggas I'm drunk, I'm pumped
I made a mistake and popped him, now he bleeding
I see blood, damn, get to the doctor, nigga don't rest in peace
Doctor's took him to emergency, coppers came and arrested me

Not knowing if my nigga had made it alive and was well
I tossed and turned in my cell knowing he's sweatin' like hell
Praise to the Lord and I hope you hear me
And I hope you feel me

I ain't mean to, really, really, I ain't mean it, I know you seen it
I finally spoke to my nigga, he lifted up and recovered
And pressed no charges
Wait the state done picked it up and I gotta trial in a month

Fuck! And the judge ain't trying to give me no love
'Cause it was my first offense
But he just thinkin' he lockin' up a thug
So now I'm cuffed up on the bus and ridin' down 71, ain't no fun

That's the way that we hustle
'Cause we struggle everyday, everyday, pain, so much pain
That's the way that we hustle
'Cause we struggle everyday, everyday, pain, so much pain

That's the way that we hustle
'Cause we struggle everyday, everyday, pain, so much pain
That's the way that we hustle
'Cause we struggle everyday, everyday, pain, so much pain

Now I'm locked inside this prison system
Biddin' and count days left before my sentence
Now I can say that I've been here
But I sure ain't gonna come back here, uh, uh

The day they release me, I'm going home
I can cope but I can't adjust
These fucking steel doors drivin' me nuts
My last month and I'm ready to move out

I'm sure, stay on the low, I listen to thug stories
And be trippin' on niggas love stories
I'm finna get out of this motherfucker
Heard them call out my name

Two fifty, two, two fifty, pack up your shit, it's your day
Jumped out my bunk, gave all my shit to my niggas
In fact, I left everything that I had back in jail but my raps
I'm on the streets now, scene unchanged

Niggas still the same
I ain't fuckin' with you bustas 'cause I'm tryin' to make a change
I got with the real dogs and we was schemin' on the mill' ya'll
So we had to chill on ya'll

Get out of Cleveland if we plan to achieve it
So we plannin' it with Eazy on Greyhound and now we're leavin'

That's the way that we hustle
'Cause we struggle everyday, everyday, pain, so much pain
That's the way that we hustle
'Cause we struggle everyday, everyday, pain, so much pain

That's the way that we hustle
'Cause we struggle everyday, everyday, pain, so much pain
That's the way that we hustle
'Cause we struggle everyday, everyday, pain, so much pain

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7a0f431fa9d9020faa5e95f4e1ffe7d2

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

The Roach (The Chronic Outro) - Lyrics - Dr. Dre

Title: The Roach (The Chronic Outro)
Artist: Dr. Dre
Composer(s): William Earl Collins, George Jr Clinton, Eric D Collins, Bernard G Worrell

Lyric:
Cannabis Sativa or in the heart of LA known as the cronic
Not to be confused with the bionic
Even though it does cost six million dollars
Man, understand, ah, ha, ha, now we working
With some new improved shit on this track

Nevertheless, not no stress, sucka ass niggas
So now we gonna move on and, uh
Light a big fat one up for the world and hit this
Once or twice and you'll be twice as nice get it
This is the cronic, ah, ha, ha, ha
(Play that motherfucker out there, nigga)

Make my bud the cronic
I wants to get fucked up
Make my shit the cronic
I gots to fire it up

I want the bomb I want the cronic
I gots to get fucked up
Make my bud the cronic
Before I take it home

Damn, my last joint, don't fuck with me fool, who got the dub sacks
Whoe, this shoutin' a motherfucker, man
(You can take it or leave it, nigga)
But I need a spliff right now
(Roll this shit up then nigga)
And I don't want no Sess, brother

It's got to be the cronic, know what I mean, nigga
Yeah, that's the cronic, that's the cronic, that's the bomb, boy
Now get me motherfuckin' zig-zag, we straight
(Yeah, nigga I got some)
Or better yet, a muthafuckin' blunt
(I got that shit)
A Philly blunt that is

Make my bud the cronic
I wants to get fucked up
Make my shit the cronic
I gots to fire it up

I want the bomb I want the cronic
I gots to get fucked up
Make my bud the cronic
Before I take it home

Make my bud the cronic
I wants to get fucked up
Make my shit the cronic
I gots to fire it up

I want the bomb I want the cronic
I gots to get fucked up
Make my bud the cronic
Before I take it home

God, damn, I'm fucked up
(Im fucked up to)
That shit ain't no joke, ohh, shit
No, I want no more, I want shit
Just leave me alone, just let me chill out
And listen to this shit, I'm high

Make my bud the cronic
I wants to get fucked up
Make my shit the cronic
I gots to fire it up

I want the bomb I want the cronic
I gots to get fucked up
Make my bud the cronic
Before I take it home

Make my bud the cronic
I wants to get fucked up
Make my shit the cronic
I gots to fire it up

I want the bomb I want the cronic
I gots to get fucked up
Make my bud the cronic
Before I take it home

That's fucked up, what they put in this weed
That's why they call this shit cronic, [unverified] damn, damn, shit
Fucked up, fucked up, fucked crazy, oh, fucked up
Really, really though, now I'm callin' a motherfucker
That shit, that shit, that shit's crazy, I'm high dam

Ohh, I made to fuck some shit up now, baby
(You can come on and fuck me up)
Hmm, hmm, triple cheeseburger
Some fries, motherfuckin' couple sodas
Some apple turnovers and all that old shit, nigga

[Unverified] I'm ready to get my [unverified] on that indo
Smells good as a motherfucker to
I want it no more, that shits not to be fucked with
Nice to be fucked with
I'm high, oh, nigga you pass that to somebody else

Nigga, I'm through for the night
Really though, really though, nigga
That's some fools gonna buy this motherfucker
No, nigga, don't be trying to pass me that shit
Nigga, I'm, I told you I'm cool, oh, madness
(Ha, I got another dub sack, nigga, ha, ha, ha)

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9ef030356b3081a8c5d954f27ba7fa2b

Sunday, August 1, 2010

On The Rocks - Lyrics - Baby Aka The #1 Stunna

Title: On The Rocks
Artist: Baby Aka The #1 Stunna
Composer(s): D Boys, Kedrick Moore, Phalon Alexander, Bryan Williams, A. Nelson

Lyric:
I keep my rims on the rocks
I keep my jims' on the rocks
I keep my drink on the rocks
That's how I'm living 'My life', 'My life', 'My life'
On the rocks

I keep my briefs on the rocks
I keep my platinum teef's, they on the rocks
I keep my bank on the rocks
That's how I'm living 'My life', 'My life', 'My life'
On the rocks

To that silver satin, ma' , that's beautiful, daddy
I put them 22 rocks on that brand new Caddy
Y'kno AMG wit' chromed kit pipes
Lord, Lord, Lord, that's a beautiful site

Aiy it's a milli milli, nigga, milli milli milli, nigga
Million blocks, million in rocks, nigga, million cars
The R-R-Rock Boy, rock your ice and rock your toy

It's the Birdman, daddy, no time na' pause
If y'kno it's gon' rain, let it rock ya fall
Don't none, come from top but Birds and ball
I'm grateful for the man that gave it all

But I rock my world and I thank the man
'Cuz I came in this bitch wit' my dick in my hand
Got that Caddy on broaders, block milla-walla
Nine millimeter make the baddest nigga ball up

I keep my rims on the rocks
I keep my jims' on the rocks
I keep my drink on the rocks
That's how I'm living 'My life', 'My life', 'My life'
On the rocks

I keep my briefs on the rocks
I keep my platinum teef's, they on the rocks
I keep my bank on the rocks
That's how I'm living 'My life', 'My life', 'My life'
On the rocks

My grill ma' straightened 'em all
Gucci, Gabbana, fuck the cost
Fendi, Prada, I burn it all
They been down, we gotta ball

You back it up, I'm loving that
I'm smacking up ya shorty back
Gambs' is up, better stack
I bought the truck, I covered that

Ghetto rich still lock them thangs
Money still in mansions, man
CMB, 10 a ki' , wodie ain't nothing changed

But I still got my ghetto stripes
Red, blue and yellow ice
That's all I rock, fuck the cops
They want me in the jail fa' life

Aiy, I'm stuntin' tonight
It's going down tonight
I'm popping some Crist'
I'm looking fa some hoes to put on my list

Fits Tailored in the Vette with that platinum ass
That Gucci rag with the Bird in the bag
It's the Prada man, you prolly see me in brand new Jag
Gucci tailored, ma' don't tell me that

I keep my rims on the rocks
I keep my jims' on the rocks
I keep my drink on the rocks
That's how I'm living 'My life', 'My life', 'My life'
On the rocks

I keep my briefs on the rocks
I keep my platinum teef's, they on the rocks
I keep my bank on the rocks
That's how I'm living 'My life', 'My life', 'My life'
On the rocks

Nigga, I went from big Bok shoes in Rolls to 23 inches
This Cadillac so y'kno I'm pimpin'
Fo' insuran' I don't play that, I'm filled wit' begets
Riding through Eastover look that is where I stay at

I drive a Bentley and park a Bentley
Buyin' rims by the feet 'cuz they short on inches
Look, I'm on the block nigga, off the top, nigga
Go and cop nickels something on the rocks, nigga

Look, I spend my cash, Hood Rich, nigga don't ask
Croc-a-dile interior, the platinum glass
22 inch buttons on that G-Wag
Got the mink on the floor, swine seats lil' daddy

I'm the boss of the ghetto in the '98 Caddy
It's big pimpin', baby, I'm Weezy Wee Daddy
Got the green pinky ring, the rock 30 carats
I keep it all hood, nigga, check my status

I keep my rims on the rocks
I keep my jims' on the rocks
I keep my drink on the rocks
That's how I'm living 'My life', 'My life', 'My life'
On the rocks

I keep my briefs on the rocks
I keep my platinum teef's, they on the rocks
I keep my bank on the rocks
That's how I'm living 'My life', 'My life', 'My life'
On the rocks

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ef195d358fee55ca224cec951dd34f1c

Monday, August 16, 2010

On The Rocks - Lyrics - Birdman - Birdman

Title: On The Rocks
Album: Birdman
Artist: Birdman
Composer(s): D Boys, Kedrick Moore, Phalon Alexander, Bryan Williams, A. Nelson

Lyric:
I keep my rims on the rocks
I keep my jims' on the rocks
I keep my drink on the rocks
That's how I'm living 'My life', 'My life', 'My life'
On the rocks

I keep my briefs on the rocks
I keep my platinum teef's, they on the rocks
I keep my bank on the rocks
That's how I'm living 'My life', 'My life', 'My life'
On the rocks

To that silver satin, ma' , that's beautiful, daddy
I put them 22 rocks on that brand new Caddy
Y'kno AMG wit' chromed kit pipes
Lord, Lord, Lord, that's a beautiful site

Aiy it's a milli milli, nigga, milli milli milli, nigga
Million blocks, million in rocks, nigga, million cars
The R-R-Rock Boy, rock your ice and rock your toy

It's the Birdman, daddy, no time na' pause
If y'kno it's gon' rain, let it rock ya fall
Don't none, come from top but Birds and ball
I'm grateful for the man that gave it all

But I rock my world and I thank the man
'Cuz I came in this bitch wit' my dick in my hand
Got that Caddy on broaders, block milla-walla
Nine millimeter make the baddest nigga ball up

I keep my rims on the rocks
I keep my jims' on the rocks
I keep my drink on the rocks
That's how I'm living 'My life', 'My life', 'My life'
On the rocks

I keep my briefs on the rocks
I keep my platinum teef's, they on the rocks
I keep my bank on the rocks
That's how I'm living 'My life', 'My life', 'My life'
On the rocks

My grill ma' straightened 'em all
Gucci, Gabbana, fuck the cost
Fendi, Prada, I burn it all
They been down, we gotta ball

You back it up, I'm loving that
I'm smacking up ya shorty back
Gambs' is up, better stack
I bought the truck, I covered that

Ghetto rich still lock them thangs
Money still in mansions, man
CMB, 10 a ki' , wodie ain't nothing changed

But I still got my ghetto stripes
Red, blue and yellow ice
That's all I rock, fuck the cops
They want me in the jail fa' life

Aiy, I'm stuntin' tonight
It's going down tonight
I'm popping some Crist'
I'm looking fa some hoes to put on my list

Fits Tailored in the Vette with that platinum ass
That Gucci rag with the Bird in the bag
It's the Prada man, you prolly see me in brand new Jag
Gucci tailored, ma' don't tell me that

I keep my rims on the rocks
I keep my jims' on the rocks
I keep my drink on the rocks
That's how I'm living 'My life', 'My life', 'My life'
On the rocks

I keep my briefs on the rocks
I keep my platinum teef's, they on the rocks
I keep my bank on the rocks
That's how I'm living 'My life', 'My life', 'My life'
On the rocks

Nigga, I went from big Bok shoes in Rolls to 23 inches
This Cadillac so y'kno I'm pimpin'
Fo' insuran' I don't play that, I'm filled wit' begets
Riding through Eastover look that is where I stay at

I drive a Bentley and park a Bentley
Buyin' rims by the feet 'cuz they short on inches
Look, I'm on the block nigga, off the top, nigga
Go and cop nickels something on the rocks, nigga

Look, I spend my cash, Hood Rich, nigga don't ask
Croc-a-dile interior, the platinum glass
22 inch buttons on that G-Wag
Got the mink on the floor, swine seats lil' daddy

I'm the boss of the ghetto in the '98 Caddy
It's big pimpin', baby, I'm Weezy Wee Daddy
Got the green pinky ring, the rock 30 carats
I keep it all hood, nigga, check my status

I keep my rims on the rocks
I keep my jims' on the rocks
I keep my drink on the rocks
That's how I'm living 'My life', 'My life', 'My life'
On the rocks

I keep my briefs on the rocks
I keep my platinum teef's, they on the rocks
I keep my bank on the rocks
That's how I'm living 'My life', 'My life', 'My life'
On the rocks

Play the MP3 online for free!
71ac83c6d016e52a3c5c08db4101a371

Friday, August 20, 2010

New York Salute - Lyrics - M.O.P.

Title: New York Salute
Artist: M.O.P.
Composer(s): J Grinnage, E Murry

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

Lyric:
Primetime, New York, New York
That's the place where the soldiers die, New York, New York
That's the ghetto nigga's feelings, New York, New York
That's the niggas that multiply, New York, New York

Yo, where you from, nigga? New York
When you come through here, fool take your jewels off
'Cause these niggas is known for bumpin' fools off
And they takin' over if your crew's off

You got thugs with machines, assault teams
Regulating things from Brownsville to Fort Green
Up in the Bronx where the people are fresh
People are blessed, with slugs that'll eat through your vest

Boriquas for heaters down to bust
And them New Jers' niggas is down with us
I know you heard about that cop, trying to stop a felon
Got trapped, caught a slug in his cerebellum

We welcome, visitors with open arms and firearms
And sick terrorists with bombs
And when you slide through on the VI, son
Pack your bags and don't forget your nine and have a good time

Primetime, New York, New York
That's the place where the soldiers die, New York, New York
That's the ghetto nigga's feelings, New York, New York
That's the niggas that multiply, New York, New York

Get your Mac, get your gat, head for 95
Stop, pick up your dogs, tell 'em, "Let's ride"
Throw in some du-op shit, lean in your car
Knowing you'll hear some new O.C. or Gang Starr

It ain't to far once you into VA
Fuck with your high-beams and see who's going your way
Keep your [unverified], so the man won't trap you
Now leadin' the convoy to the Big Apple

Tell your homies, "Fuck that thing" dip in the left lane
Make your Honda Accord perform like a plane
You in Deleware, you almost hear
The New Jersey Turnpike, is right there, right there

Haul-ass, make your backwheels spin
Get in the wind, you're under a hundred miles in
When you reach the Lincoln Tunnel, black, hit me on my box
We on the other side of that bitch with Cognac and glocks

Primetime, New York, New York
That's the place where the soldiers die, New York, New York
That's the ghetto nigga's feelings, New York, New York
That's the niggas that multiply, New York, New York

Home, sweet home nigga, home team, nigga, home team
Your home nigga, your home nigga, come on back, come on back
Mash Out Posse, Firing Squad, ?99, baby ?99, hip hop, lock it down
One time for your mind, salute, salute, First Family

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c04e80480924ff23ea277f141744931e

Friday, August 6, 2010

The Queen - Lyrics - Mo Thugs

Title: The Queen
Artist: Mo Thugs
Composer(s): Kamilha Greer, Anthony Henderson

Lyric:
It's the Queen
(That's the Queen, it's the Queen)
Yeah, the Queen has arrived
She's collectin' all the royalties
(As an angel falls, tell me the name of me, the Thug Queen)
It's the Queen
(That's the Queen, it's the Queen)
She's devoted to thugs, so we show her love and loyalty

Thug on the corner sellin' drugs
E.C. where I run, about my life, don't give a fuck
It's 'cuz stealin' my Mama weed just to smoke on blunts
Stealin' forty-ounces from the Arabs
To stay fucked up, mentally stuck
Feelin' I'm a little nigga with no nuts

Just for a double up, helpin' the devil
Turn this soldier's soul to dust
Who can I trust when I'm just livin' for lust?
I lost my Daddy to the shit, the drug epidemic
Got everybody and they muthafuckin' mama sinnin'
Just wishin' for new beginnings, prayin' the Lord will forgive me
Just searchin' for what's missin'

It's the Queen
(That's the Queen, that's the Queen)
Yeah, the Queen has arrived
She's collectin' all the royalties
(Forever humble, forever devoted, this queen is humble)
It's the Queen
(That's the Queen, that's the Queen)
She's devoted to thugs, so we show her love and loyalty

No direction, knowin' nowhere to turn
Mama say I'm actin' too grown, she kick me out
On my own, so alone, no place to call home
Hear a angel tellin' me, just stay strong
(You better be strong, just stay strong)
Bailin' back to Land that I call my home
My friends have turned to foes 'cuz I went broke

Ain't had shit to eat but potato chips in about a month
On the block losin' focus, in the front of the church, sellin' dope
Feelin' hopeless, copeless 'cuz I'm homeless
Shit, I gotta serve to eat, feel the Lord hate me
'Cuz I'm livin' in a world so shady
Stay intoxicated so my problem don't over weigh me
Prayin' daily that the Lord'll help me
Lord save me, devil raid me

It's the Queen
(That's the Queen, it's the Queen)
Yeah, the Queen has arrived
She's collectin' all the royalties
(As an angel falls, tell me the name of me, the Thug Queen)
It's the Queen
(That's the Queen, it's the Queen)
She's devoted to thugs, so we show her love and loyalty

It's the Queen
(That's the Queen, that's the Queen)
Yeah, the Queen has arrived
She's collectin' all the royalties
(Forever humble, forever devoted, this queen is humble)
It's the Queen
(That's the Queen, that's the Queen)
She's devoted to thugs, so we show her love and loyalty

Queen with a seed inside of me
Off springs of a black queen
Planted secretly by Almighty
Ignite a flame inside of me
Gotta use another strategy
These streets ain't helpin' me
See, my destiny is servin' fiends

Basically helpin' my enemies
Destroy me and my self-esteem
Through all the sinnin'
A Queen shine from inside of me
Gifts given to me, my qualities, Mo Thug, my family
We'll always be forever devoted to the thuggish side of me
The Lord presents to the world the Thug Queen
(Thug Queen)

It's the Queen
(That's the Queen, it's the Queen)
Yeah, the Queen has arrived
She's collectin' all the royalties
(As an angel falls tell me the name of me, the Thug Queen)
It's the Queen
(That's the Queen, it's the Queen)
She's devoted to thugs, so we show her love and loyalty

Play the MP3 online for free!
06d6354c4e13062cda68c22b6d179957

Monday, August 9, 2010