The Bird And The Worm - Lyrics - Lies for the Liars - The Used

Title: The Bird And The Worm
Album: Lies for the Liars
Artist: The Used
Composer(s): Jeph Howard, Quinn Allman, Robert C. Mccracken

Lyric:
He wears his heart safety-pinned to his backpack
His backpack is all that he knows
Shot down by strangers whose glances can cripple
The heart and devour the soul

All alone he turns to stone
While holding his breath half to death
Terrified of what's inside to save his life
He crawls like a worm from a bird
Crawls like a worm from a bird

Out of his mind, the way pushes him whispering
Must have been out of his mind
Midday delusions of pushing this out of his head
Make him out of his mind

All alone he turns to stone
While holding his breath half to death
Terrified of what's inside to save his life
He crawls like a worm
Crawls like a worm from a bird

(All alone)
Crawls like a worm from a bird
(All alone)
Crawls like a worm from a bird
(All alone)
Crawls like a worm
Crawls like a worm from a bird

All he knows
If he can't relieve it it grows
And so it goes
He crawls like a worm
Crawls like a worm from a bird

And he crawls like a worm
He crawls like a worm
He crawls like a worm
Crawls like a

Out of his mind, the way pushes him whispering
Must have been out of his mind

All alone he turns to stone
While holding his breath half to death
Terrified at what's inside to save his life
He crawls like a worm from a bird

All alone
He's holding his breath half to death
(Holding his breath half to death)
Terrified to save his life
He crawls like a worm
(Crawls like a worm)
Crawls like a worm from a bird
(Crawls like a worm)

(All alone)
Crawls like a worm from a bird
(All alone)
Crawls like a worm from a bird
(All alone)
Crawls like a worm
(Worm!)
Crawls like a worm
(Worm!)
Crawls like a worm from a bird

(All alone)
(All alone)
(All alone)
(All alone)

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2276a79605da4b5b1fc7618770a9af0f

Just Waitin' - Lyrics - Hank Williams Jr.

Title: Just Waitin'
Artist: Hank Williams Jr.
Composer(s): Hank Williams, Raymond Gazzaway

Lyric:
Pensioner's waiting for leap year to come
And the young singer's waiting to sing
And there's a gardener outside a big estate
Waiting for the grass to turn green

The drunk is waiting for an easy mark
The hitchhiker is waiting for a ride
And the prisoner's waiting for a prison break
And the surfer is waiting for the tide

Ah, just waiting

You know everything comes to a standstill
Nothing seems to make a turn
'Cause the worm's still waiting for the early bird
And the early bird's waiting for the worm

And nobody wants to do nothing
Just waiting for a finger in the pie
And waiting for a call from a TV show
Or waiting for her uncle to die 1 2 3

Everybody's waiting for something
And nothing ever turns out right
'Cause the night shift is waiting for the morning
And the burglar is waiting for the nights

Congregation is waiting for the vicar
And the vicar is waiting for the groom
The groom is waiting for his new bride
But the bride is waiting for June

And everybody is just waiting
And nobody wants to settle down
They got their heads in
A holo-video

The cretin' is waiting for U2 to come on
MTV again
But the producer is waiting for the blond bird
And the blond girl's waiting for him

Nobody wants to do nothing
Just waiting for their chips and their pie
Waiting' for a call from a big quiz show
Or waiting for some rich relation to die

You know everything comes to a standstill
Nothing ever makes a turn
And the worm is waiting for the grass to turn green
While the early bird is waiting for the worm

I don't think I can really stand it no more
I don't think I can go through it again

I'm just waiting
I'm just waiting
I'm just waiting
I'm just waiting

Yeah, bees are waiting for honey
And I'm putting it on the back burner for now
'Cause everybody's racing and fawning and skivin'
And honey, I'm waiting for you

Just waiting
Ah, just waiting
Ah, just waiting
Ah, just waiting

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Just Waiting - Lyrics - Fall

Title: Just Waiting
Artist: Fall
Composer(s): Hank Williams, Raymond Gazzaway

Lyric:
Pensioner's waiting for leap year to come
And the young singer's waiting to sing
And there's a gardener outside a big estate
Waiting for the grass to turn green

The drunk is waiting for an easy mark
The hitchhiker is waiting for a ride
And the prisoner's waiting for a prison break
And the surfer is waiting for the tide

Ah, just waiting

You know everything comes to a standstill
Nothing seems to make a turn
'Cause the worm's still waiting for the early bird
And the early bird's waiting for the worm

And nobody wants to do nothing
Just waiting for a finger in the pie
And waiting for a call from a TV show
Or waiting for her uncle to die 1 2 3

Everybody's waiting for something
And nothing ever turns out right
'Cause the night shift is waiting for the morning
And the burglar is waiting for the nights

Congregation is waiting for the vicar
And the vicar is waiting for the groom
The groom is waiting for his new bride
But the bride is waiting for June

And everybody is just waiting
And nobody wants to settle down
They got their heads in
A holo-video

The cretin' is waiting for U2 to come on
MTV again
But the producer is waiting for the blond bird
And the blond girl's waiting for him

Nobody wants to do nothing
Just waiting for their chips and their pie
Waiting' for a call from a big quiz show
Or waiting for some rich relation to die

You know everything comes to a standstill
Nothing ever makes a turn
And the worm is waiting for the grass to turn green
While the early bird is waiting for the worm

I don't think I can really stand it no more
I don't think I can go through it again

I'm just waiting
I'm just waiting
I'm just waiting
I'm just waiting

Yeah, bees are waiting for honey
And I'm putting it on the back burner for now
'Cause everybody's racing and fawning and skivin'
And honey, I'm waiting for you

Just waiting
Ah, just waiting
Ah, just waiting
Ah, just waiting

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1bbfd93901f675b2a0408682830ea981

Amerikkka'S Most Wanted - Lyrics - AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted - Ice Cube

Title: Amerikkka'S Most Wanted
Album: AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted
Artist: Ice Cube
Composer(s): Eric T Sadler, Keith Shocklee, O'Shea Jackson

Lyric:
Ice Cube with The Lench Mob, I got it goin' on
A nigga that's livin' in the city of the criminal zone
One time can't keep the law in order
'Cos everybody's goin' crazy for a quarter

You're tuned in to the number one crew in the area
The way I'm talkin' I'm scarin', ya
I'm darin' ya to raise hell and bail and brag and sag
Or beat down for ya flag

'Cos if you is or you ain't a gangbanger
Keep one in the chamber
'Cos you'll get them thangs put on ya son
Ice Cube has got the 4-1-1

All the ol' school house fellows are crooks
So I get jealous looks
They keep thinkin' did my hair grow?
Will the boys 'n' the hood have to beat down Ice Cube?

Hell no, I'll static son, you'll see it's okay
I keep my 9 anyway
For the day one of my homies wanna squab
I'm still rollin' wit The Lench Mob

AmeriKKKa's most wanted

Back in the day I did my share of dirt
Sometimes I got away clean, sometimes people got hurt
But if you know me, you know that I'm liable
To bust a cap 'cos it's all about survival of the fittest

I'm a menace crook
I did so much dirt I need to be in the Guinness Book
From the shit I took from people
I reap all your fat shit, jack, back to the criminals sect

I leave crew after crew but they can't catch me yet
'Cos I'm slick and slippery
They can't get wit me, cops ain't shit to me
I can't dig a pig so I drop the dogs
And sweat 'em like sweathogs
And get mad, mad 'cos I'm the nigga that flaunt it
AmeriKKKa's most wanted

Aiyo, here's what the poster read
'Ice Cube is wanted dead', that's all it said
I put heads to bed and fled the scene wit all the green
Hear shots and si-reens

When I feen first they yo' rings, now they my rings
So give it up punk and then I just
Put another jack in progress, it's the American way
'Cos I'm the G A N G S T A

Ice Cube, a motherfuckin' cut-throat
And tried to catch the early bird but they slept, so who gets the worm?
And if I'm caught in a trap, you know I'ma beat the rap
With a payoff, cop gotta lay off, FBI on my dick, stay off

I'm not a rebel or a renegade on a quest
I'm a nigga with a 'S' on his chest
So get the Kryptonite cos I'm a rip tonight
'Cos I'm scarin' ya, wanted by America

Aiyo Cube man, they on your ass

Word, but who the fuck is heard?
It's time to take a trip to the suburbs
Let 'em see a nigga invasion
Point blank for the caucasian

Cock the hammer then crack that ol' smile
Take me to your house, pal
Got to the house, my pockets got fat, see
Crack the safe, got the money and the jewelry

Three weeks later, I'm at the P A D
Had a little fly ass bitch wit me
Sittin' in a dig, yo it couldn't be
Whattup G? Saw my face on TV

Damn,oh shit! I didn't know I lucked out
Struck out, I gotta get the fuck out
Pack my bags and tried to hit the door when
The ol' bitch down the street must've turned me in

'Cos the feds was out there ten deep
I got hassled and gaffled in the back seat
I think back when I was robbin' my own kind
The police didn't pay it no mind

But when I start robbin' the white folks
Now I'm in the pen wit the soap on a rope
I said it before and I'll still taunt it
Every young brother where the colour is most wanted

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96a340625d0c8045deb1c0261dd42f31

Wind Blow - Lyrics - Strength and Loyalty - Bone Thugs N Harmony

Title: Wind Blow
Album: Strength and Loyalty
Artist: Bone Thugs N Harmony
Composer(s): Steven Howse, Lindsey Buckingham, Orlando Clarence Watson, Stevie Nicks, Bradford Ray, Charles Scruggs, Anne Christine Mc Vie, Mick Fleetwood, Anthony Henderson, John Graham Mcvie

Lyric:
Bone Thugs-N-Harmony
Ayo, we ain't always been accepted like this
'Til a *** got that Grammy, open the door
(Listen to the wind blow)

Bone Thugs got a story that's similar to Mike Jones
You can ask my homies
I remember back in the days when they didn't want me
Now I blew up, they all on me

Their smile's phony
It's hard to determine who really is, which of these *** is fake
They try to eat outta ya plate and you can't get a break
Now how much can you take for heaven's sakes?
I can't wait they got me listenin' to the wind blow

Sittin' back, rollin' up my ***
Rollin' with my *** finger hangin' out the window
Let's roll, get yo' *** hand out my pocket
Now they wanna be a *** friend like we partners

*** we was lookin' for a deal and you dodged us
Never did call us, what was your problem?
Rollin' now, we ridin' by, listen to the wind blow

*** tell the real from the fake when it comes from the streets
Livin' peace like a beat, like a drum from the ghetto
Give us our peace, won't let it go, said we wouldn't make it now
We some of the greatest bumpin' through your trunks
And your radio, radio

And if you don't love me now, you will never love me again
I can still hear you sayin', you must never break the chain
And if you don't love me now, you will never love me again
I can still hear you sayin', you must never break the chain

Four true thugs from the double ***
A *** ready to rumble when the trouble knocks
Took one way tickets straight off the block
We gon' make the pay, y'all *** just watch

'All Eyez On Me' like my name was Pac
*** hip-hop cop, got a plastic ***
I'm takin' drastic shots 'till these *** stop
When the casket drop I be mashin' out
In a brand new drop top flyin' ***, listenin' to the wind blow

*** automatic weapon
When they step up *** hit with a ***
Everybody tryna get a *** with a blessin'
They better not mess with mine 'cause I'm tellin'

All you *** from the beginnin'
That ain't no pretendin', conversate you gon' get it
You betta listen, listen to the wind blow

If you get it take it to the fullest just for Ish
Just do it, do it, grab the game, do it to it, to it
Chasin' chains, but still hood, live it, I love it
Diamonds in the rough don't come by to my hood

And if you don't love me now, you will never love me again
I can still hear you sayin', you must never break the chain
And if you don't love me now, you will never love me again
I can still hear you sayin', you must never break the chain

Flow like the wind blow
Never see me 'cause I get ghost, so a *** never get close
I go fast or slow, no matter the tempo
*** the instrumental, *** the rhythm
I ride to the rhythm of ***
This lyrical venom I serve up gon' *** admittable murda

*** burn some, stick with Granddad and stack cash
*** you better learn some
We got the hood hot locked, even got the birds bumpin'
Everybody tryna get in, don't nobody wanna be left in the wind

*** better not try to miss the boat
The early bird get the worm, took the game by the throat
And squeezed till the *** broke
Believe, it's *** we wrote

It's *** that we serve on the curve to the booth
These *** gon' feel it 'cause we spit the truth
Ain't never no fakin', that Grammy to prove
Haters just hatin', we do what we do

Let 'em we talk 'till we blue in the face
Only because we blew up in they face
If Bone was hurtin', if that was the case
I'd probably go loco and catch me a case

*** just move and give me some space
When I let the wind blow in my face
*** don't quit 'till I finish the race
Number one in the place, betta make no mistake

And if you don't love me now, you will never love me again
I can still hear you sayin', you must never break the chain
And if you don't love me now, you will never love me again
I can still hear you sayin', you must never break the chain

And now we ridin' by
And now we ridin' by
Now we ridin' by
Now we ridin' by

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e3cd13e04186c2d0faf19cb9b70acf68

Is It Me - Lyrics - 4:21...the Day After - Method Man

Title: Is It Me
Album: 4:21...the Day After
Artist: Method Man
Composer(s): Clifford Smith, Scott Storch

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

Lyric:
Uh, yeah, y'all, guess whose back?
Heh, cauli' flavored, momma crack
Yeah, yeah, Scott Storch, Mr. M E F
Know what I said, black people don't use the T-H
Yo, yo, yo

Guess who back though, crack dough, yes, eyes is hat low
Stash 'dro, pimp on the side, you know how that go
Rap flow, major, taste the flavor, all natural high
Y'all gotta love it when the track go

Ask Def Jam what's hot, three letters, M E F Man
Been stopped, that's off top, young, fresh to death
And you're not, no matter what the job, I'm the best man
Rap C.E.O. minus the yes man

I know that's right, so act right, Staten on the map
Like f*** y'all, get stuck, y'all and have a bad night
As I brush off you my shoulder, that's right
My n**** Scott Storch keep bringing it back like

Oh boy, dig it, I talk about it and I live it
Been there, did it, s***ted and wiped my a** with it
These critics saw the train for brains and must of missed it
If they ain't got the s***, they'll never get it

Is it me or is it these n***** in it for cheese
Is it me all my enemies, hating on Killa Beez
Is it me or is it me that ain't feeling M.C.'s
With the top down wheeling the V, feeling the breeze

Is it me or is it these n***** spitting the same
Is it me all my enemies throwing s*** in the game
Is it me or the industry that really got to change
Once again it's Wu-Tang in case y'all forgot the name

I spit germ, early bird gets worm, now
Now that it's his turn, clowns don't get turns, now
F*** with a chick perm, when she get hot, you get burned
You see I'm not kidding, knowing these kids learn

And and I'm that dude, ahh choo and allergic to wack jewels
Blast if I have to and y'all don't give me no hassle
Who rep Rotten Apple to death and get natural
Make hard beats pound like the track do

If you ask me, this raspy voice n**** is nasty
Khaki's hanging off of his ass, eyes is glassy
That's f***ed, that's us, n***** know where to catch me
At 1-800 Get At Me

My flow's, no holds barred, Holy Jihad
It's the head n**** in charge, Meth, back on the job
Like back in the days, back when, the game was hard
And when they reminiscence over Wu, my God

Is it me or is it these n***** in it for cheese
Is it me all my enemies, hating on Killa Beez
Is it me or is it me that ain't feeling M.C.'s
With the top down wheeling the V, feeling the breeze

Is it me or is it these n***** spitting the same
Is it me all my enemies throwing s*** in the game
Is it me or the industry that really got to change
Once again it's Wu-Tang in case y'all forgot the name

Until these rap n***** stepped up, checked up
Man, this game is messed up, next up, you know what it is
Don't get it f'd up Meth, what? F.Y.I., you need a heads up
And I don't mean to beat you in the head but

When you spit that, forget that, I eat these n***** food
And the s*** wrapped, where Cliff at?
Tell 'em Mr. Meth got his s*** back
The gift back sign. sealed, delivered and gift wrapped
And when you hear that click-clack

That's real talk, some n***** will talk to the cops
Get killed off, man how did you get caught with all the rocks
And still walk, no matter what you mix with a pig
You still pork and money is still forced

Yeah, that was right on cue, new and improved
All these dudes try'nna walk in my shoes, doing my moves
But that's cool 'cause I'ma make it do what it do
With this W, like I can I get a "Suu" motherf******?

Is it me or is it these n***** in it for cheese
Is it me all my enemies, hating on Killa Beez
Is it me or is it me that ain't feeling M.C.'s
With the top down wheeling the V, feeling the breeze

Is it me or is it these n***** spitting the same
Is it me all my enemies throwing s*** in the game
Is it me or the industry that really got to change
Once again it's Wu-Tang in case y'all forgot the name

W T R B
Wu-Tang Radio B****

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Addicted - Lyrics - Rotten Apple - Lloyd Banks

Title: Addicted
Album: Rotten Apple
Artist: Lloyd Banks
Composer(s): Daniel Jones, Christopher Charle Lloyd, Michael J Clervoix, Adrian Jermaine Mobley

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

Lyric:
Yeah, G-Unit
Yeah, ey, ey

I think I gotta' have it
And it keeps pullin' me in like a magnet
I'm goin' with this kinda music
Puts me right back on the block

Yeah, it's like c**** to an addict
It ain't too hard for me to grab it
Goin' with this kinda music
Puts me right back on the block

Man, I think I'ma dig it to to the life
That I had so I risk it runnin' the street
With the h*** more, three deep in the SUV
The bigger you blow, the less you see

The more you hear, the real n**** lost his life right there
It's hard to believe the flipper's the reason he's not here
So he came over somethin' that ain't his
That jeopardize the well being of him and his kids

That's how it is, Cig's in the whole crib
Dope that told pigs, live with broke ribs
Or went and got a dirt with the worms
With the result of the codes, packed funeral homes

Know the names 'cause we tattoo in the morn'
I'm gone, just cruisin' back to in the morgue
So f**** rap, we comin' at to you with a song
When you hear that pointed at you and your gone

I think I gotta' have it
And it keeps pullin' me in like a magnet
I'm goin' with this kinda music
Puts me right back on the block

Yeah, it's like c**** to an addict
It ain't too hard for me to grab it
Goin' with this kinda music
Puts me right back on the block

I got my pocket's right, my rocks are bright
The drop is blue and the watch is white, right
That's why they watchin' me as far as I can see
It's all mockery and I'm tryna' be all lockin' me

Now that my foot's in the door, there's no stoppin' me
It's pure poetry, I got a lil' pock' in me
Not internationally, they jockin' me
'Cause my money green and blue like Monopoly

They all left a name all around the globe
Get still South side, I was bought up by the curb
And I was told, everything ain't gold
It's to the glitter, they had to drain the pain with the liquor

The world don't turn, unless the money move
The early bird get the worm and the dummies lose, true
We hear the strugglin' in the grind when I talk
I breathe and I bleed New York, ey

I think I gotta' have it
And it keeps pullin' me in like a magnet
I'm goin' with this kinda music
Puts me right back on the block

Yeah, it's like c**** to an addict
It ain't too hard for me to grab it
Goin' with this kinda music
Puts me right back on the block

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7c698a12ae043d753d722216deadc024

Drinkin' Bone - Lyrics - Tracy Byrd

Title: Drinkin' Bone
Artist: Tracy Byrd
Composer(s): Casey Beathard, Kerry Kurt Phillips

Lyric:
Well it's Friday evenin' six O'clock
And all my friends are twistin' off
I'm at the house just turnin' on TV
And they all wonder why I've changed
How many times must I explain
It's basic honky tonk anatomy

The drinkin' bone's connected to the party bone
The party bone's connected to the stayin' out all night long
And she won't think it's funny and I'll wind up all alone
And the lonely bone's connected to the drinkin' bone

Hey two plus two is always four
And down is south and up is north
And thirty-two degrees is freezing cold
You play with fire you end up burned
The early-bird gets the worm
But the only thing you really need to know

Is the drinkin' bone is connected to the party bone
The party bone's connected to the stayin' out all night long
And she won't think it's funny and I'll wind up all alone
And the lonely bone's connected to the drinkin' bone

Yeah, sing it with me
Let's make sure you know

The drinkin' bone's connected to the party bone
The party bone's connected to the stayin' out all night long
And she won't think it's funny and I'll wind up all alone
And the lonely bone's connected to the

The drinkin' bone's connected to the party bone
The party bone's connected to the stayin' out all night long
And she won't think it's funny and I'll wind up all alone
And the lonely bone's connected to the drinkin' bone

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5bb5c033d1b217f74d76d75fbaf96d2b

Just Waitin' - Lyrics - Hank Williams

Title: Just Waitin'
Artist: Hank Williams
Composer(s): Hank Williams, Raymond Gazzaway

Lyric:
The old maid's waitin' for leap year to come
The crooner's just waitin' to sing
The old cow's standin' by the Bull Durham sign
Just awaitin' for the grass to turn green

The bar-fly's waitin' for an easy mark
An' the hitch-hiker's waitin' for a ride
The life-termer's waitin' for a prison break
The beachcomber's waitin' for the tide

Farmer's daughter's waitin' for the salesman
To take her into town
The city slicker's waitin' for the country boy
To lay all his money down

You know everything comes to a standstill
Nothin' seems to make a turn
Worm must be waitin' for the early bird
I guess the early bird's waitin' for the worm

Nobody wants to do nothin'
Just waitin' to get a finger in the pie
Waitin' for a call from a big quiz show
Or hopin' and awaitin' for some rich uncle to die

Katy, she's waitin' at the garden gate
The moonshiner's waitin' at the still
An' the gambler's still waitin' for that ace in the hole
I guess, Jack's still waitin' for Jill

Everybody's waitin' for somethin'
Nothin' seems to turn out right
'Cause the night shift's waitin' for mornin'
And the burglar just waitin' for night

The congregation's waitin' for the preacher
Preacher just waitin' for the groom
The groom's just waitin' for the June bride
And the bride's just waitin' for June

Sunflowers waitin' for the sunshine
Violets just waitin' for dew
Bees just waitin' for honey
And, honey, I'm just waitin' for you

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43729f5fffc3e38674384946374a0983

What The Blood Clot - Lyrics - Tical - Method Man

Title: What The Blood Clot
Album: Tical
Artist: Method Man
Composer(s): Robert F. Diggs, Clifford Smith

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

Lyric:
Shit is bangin', son, you see what I'm sayin'?
Our shit is bangin', son
Yo, Shaolin runnin' this shit, son, runnin' this shit
Wassup Y-Kim? Wassup nigga?

Wassup up? Representin' Brownsville base
Peace to all my Brownsville niggaz, what's goin on?
Peace to all my motherfuckin' Putnam Avenue Bedford stuy, niggaz
Peace to my, peace to my Wild Wild West Brighton, niggaz

All I hear is gun shots, can I touch somethin'?
What the blood clot? Nigga want Tical, make it happen
You know my fuckin' style, fuck the rappin'
We can take it back to '85 if you wanna start actin' like you alive

It's all good, I'm rollin' with my click
Owls, Backwoods and Phillies, smokin' cess blunts mixed with illy
Got me flusted, now the whole world looks dusted
I'm in the area with the skill that never rusted

For real, nigga, touch it and you burn
When will motherfuckers learn
What be spreadin' like a germ?
Ha, ha, it's Meth, word

I be that early bird that got the worm and if you check it
I'm on point, like a fax machine, you get the message
It be no question and them bust the second guessin'
Keep your thoughts on your lessons
What the blood clot?

To tell the truth, you don't amaze me
Killa Hill Project, a Star Trek phaser couldn't phase me, what?
Check the Raider Ruckus, fuck this, smoke a Dutchmaster
Have 'em screamin' for the duchess, yeah, I gotta have it

So I strive to stack my papes, if I don't do it for myself
I'ma do it for Case 'cause that's my people
I'm giving you injections that be lethal
Weapon, when niggaz start the half steppin' then I get evil

But don't let that negative vibe right there mislead you
I'm humble, a fucking Killa Bee, far from bumble
I sting you, bzz and I bring you
Thirty-six chambers of head banger, bitch

Why I deal with? I think the mic's on the fritz
Faggot soundmen, they be sabotagin' shit
Look up in the sky, it's a bird, it's a plane
Meth-Tical, let the whole world know my fuckin' name
What the blood clot?

Yeah, you know what I'm sayin'? Keepin' it real on this thing
First of all I'd like to give a big peace and shout out
To my brothers in the belly of the beast
Raider Ruckus, we're friends to the end and back again, baby

One love, June Lover, Shitty Brown
Pussin', Pil, The P.L.O., Stack Dat, Dusty, Storm
Su, we still in here, nigga
Jamel, one love, baby

Nice, Uncle Eric a.k.a. Shane
I ain't forget you, nigga, Shakim, nuttin'
Big Sha, K. Fisk, Big Free from Cipher Heat
All the fugitives on the run

Everybody from Riker's Island to San Quintan
And a big major shout out to my old dad
Who just got home on work release
Keep your heads up, niggaz

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d0ac447b1b2ba7d14a4a139590d4ce73

Corvette Bummer - Lyrics - Loser - Beck

Title: Corvette Bummer
Album: Loser
Artist: Beck
Composer(s): Beck Hansen

Lyric:
All my days I had moldy bread
Robot brains and the flying airplanes
Hollowed out and filled with dust
Rocking like a hurricane under the rug

Bored to the core on a sunken boat
A worn out candle and a plastic coat
A ziploc bag, a pelican bone
A perfect, stupid, cardboard reject

Overfed, electric comatose
Riding in the air, invisible socks
A broken blanket, flaming sawdust
Waking up in the shadow of a piece of dirt

Gonna fly like a dog, gonna leap right out the wall
Gonna walk around this town with a can of whiskey
Gonna run like a bird, gonna roll out in the dirt
Gonna run around this town with a phone machine

Yellow cat laying flat on the road
Molten lead shooting out the ground
Tinfoil witch burning under the bridge
Flap your wings and leap out the window

Put a glass eye in the eyes of God
Nuke the kids, Polaroid cupcake
Take it to the limit, new wave biscuit
Camouflage gimmick, wimp out like never before

Gonna jump like a flag, gonna burn like a pig
Gonna flap around and pass out on the kitchen floor
Gonna crawl like a rock, gonna dance like a worm
Gonna take my shoes right off and smell my socks

Fly like a squirrel, gonna swim like a chicken
Gonna weedwack a plate of noodles in the afternoon
Gonna melt like a weasel, gonna fry like a kid

Gonna get my walkie talkie, and some mustard
And some mayonnaise, and a mermaid
And some macaroni, bricks and some telephone wires
And phone machines and a fax machine and a

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cee5af23b1801c513875b1d6b09b99fa

Method Man - Lyrics - Method Man

Title: Method Man
Artist: Method Man
Composer(s): Gary Grice, Russell Jones, Clifford Smith, Jason Hunter, Dennis Coles, Lamont Hawkins, Roger Troutman, Robert Jr Diggs, Jamaal Turner, Cory Woods

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

Lyric:
M E T H O D man
M E T H O D man
M E T H O D man
M E T H O D man

Hey you get off my cloud
Let me get raw with my southpaw style
Mover, puffin' on a fat blunt from Cuba
It's the Meth Tical jet to Cal, I'm the Buddha

Monk on the hunt for machine gun foes
I keeps you open like a slug from the shotgun punk
Double-barrel, yeah Meth bring it to them proper
Partner, you ain't got no wins in Mi Casa

Straight up, you movin' too fast so baby wait up
Took one, added seven more, now you eight up
Get on down wit' your bad self
Get on down, listen to the sound, come on

Few can ever get this whole commit legit
See you all up in my, but you don't know
What's your definition of a real M C
From what you dedicated, hey it must be me

Meth Tical, a lewd descendant of the loud hip hop
I go on to the break of dawn and just don't stop
Give me the green light and the sign one way
Have you had your left today

Move it in, move it out, stick it in, pull it out
Shake it up, shake it down, come on down, Meth Tical
Oh I often pray that I will, but today I am still just a

M E T H O D, Man
M E T H O D, Man
M E T H O D, Man
M E T H O D, Man

Rappers can't get with the style extra wicked
Rap flow is bangin' like butter on a biscuit
A tisket, a tasket I'm not tryin' to have it
Mic show up [Incomprehensible]

[Incomprehensible]
[Incomprehensible]
I break it down, I get down for my crowd
[Incomprehensible], dirty like a worm underground

[Incomprehensible] early bird, that's my word
Before I kick the bucket, I'm a kick 'em to the dirt
Check out the cloud, smoke out from the mouth
Other brothers got mad love for new style for the hood

Hey enter the square if you dare without a fro, I'm so raw that I'm real
I'm goin' to the country, I'm goin' to the fair
To see the Senorita, with flowers in her hair
And get mine, 'cuz she love me long time

Bartender bring more wine

Get in line for the
M E T H O D, Man
M E T H O D, Man
M E T H O D, Man
Here I am, here I am, the Method Man

Wu-Tang, killer bees on the swarm
It ain't safe no more
[Incomprehensible]
1993 to '94, the rugged raw
It's our secret, never ditch the Wu-Tang

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5ef64444771365f1e53645fed8c75bf4

Method Man (Remix) - Lyrics - Tical - Method Man

Title: Method Man (Remix)
Album: Tical
Artist: Method Man
Composer(s): Gary Grice, Russell Jones, Clifford Smith, Jason Hunter, Dennis Coles, Lamont Hawkins, Roger Troutman, Robert Jr Diggs, Jamaal Turner, Cory Woods

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

Lyric:
M E T H O D man
M E T H O D man
M E T H O D man
M E T H O D man

Hey you get off my cloud
Let me get raw with my southpaw style
Mover, puffin' on a fat blunt from Cuba
It's the Meth Tical jet to Cal, I'm the Buddha

Monk on the hunt for machine gun foes
I keeps you open like a slug from the shotgun punk
Double-barrel, yeah Meth bring it to them proper
Partner, you ain't got no wins in Mi Casa

Straight up, you movin' too fast so baby wait up
Took one, added seven more, now you eight up
Get on down wit' your bad self
Get on down, listen to the sound, come on

Few can ever get this whole commit legit
See you all up in my, but you don't know
What's your definition of a real M C
From what you dedicated, hey it must be me

Meth Tical, a lewd descendant of the loud hip hop
I go on to the break of dawn and just don't stop
Give me the green light and the sign one way
Have you had your left today

Move it in, move it out, stick it in, pull it out
Shake it up, shake it down, come on down, Meth Tical
Oh I often pray that I will, but today I am still just a

M E T H O D, Man
M E T H O D, Man
M E T H O D, Man
M E T H O D, Man

Rappers can't get with the style extra wicked
Rap flow is bangin' like butter on a biscuit
A tisket, a tasket I'm not tryin' to have it
Mic show up [Incomprehensible]

[Incomprehensible]
[Incomprehensible]
I break it down, I get down for my crowd
[Incomprehensible], dirty like a worm underground

[Incomprehensible] early bird, that's my word
Before I kick the bucket, I'm a kick 'em to the dirt
Check out the cloud, smoke out from the mouth
Other brothers got mad love for new style for the hood

Hey enter the square if you dare without a fro, I'm so raw that I'm real
I'm goin' to the country, I'm goin' to the fair
To see the Senorita, with flowers in her hair
And get mine, 'cuz she love me long time

Bartender bring more wine

Get in line for the
M E T H O D, Man
M E T H O D, Man
M E T H O D, Man
Here I am, here I am, the Method Man

Wu-Tang, killer bees on the swarm
It ain't safe no more
[Incomprehensible]
1993 to '94, the rugged raw
It's our secret, never ditch the Wu-Tang

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466ce2102442c59c36a05361f4cf7b9e

Method Man (Home Grown Version) - Lyrics - Method Man

Title: Method Man (Home Grown Version)
Artist: Method Man
Composer(s): Gary Grice, Russell Jones, Clifford Smith, Jason Hunter, Dennis Coles, Lamont Hawkins, Roger Troutman, Robert Jr Diggs, Jamaal Turner, Cory Woods

Lyric:
M E T H O D man
M E T H O D man
M E T H O D man
M E T H O D man

Hey you get off my cloud
Let me get raw with my southpaw style
Mover, puffin' on a fat blunt from Cuba
It's the Meth Tical jet to Cal, I'm the Buddha

Monk on the hunt for machine gun foes
I keeps you open like a slug from the shotgun punk
Double-barrel, yeah Meth bring it to them proper
Partner, you ain't got no wins in Mi Casa

Straight up, you movin' too fast so baby wait up
Took one, added seven more, now you eight up
Get on down wit' your bad self
Get on down, listen to the sound, come on

Few can ever get this whole commit legit
See you all up in my, but you don't know
What's your definition of a real M C
From what you dedicated, hey it must be me

Meth Tical, a lewd descendant of the loud hip hop
I go on to the break of dawn and just don't stop
Give me the green light and the sign one way
Have you had your left today

Move it in, move it out, stick it in, pull it out
Shake it up, shake it down, come on down, Meth Tical
Oh I often pray that I will, but today I am still just a

M E T H O D, Man
M E T H O D, Man
M E T H O D, Man
M E T H O D, Man

Rappers can't get with the style extra wicked
Rap flow is bangin' like butter on a biscuit
A tisket, a tasket I'm not tryin' to have it
Mic show up [Incomprehensible]

[Incomprehensible]
[Incomprehensible]
I break it down, I get down for my crowd
[Incomprehensible], dirty like a worm underground

[Incomprehensible] early bird, that's my word
Before I kick the bucket, I'm a kick 'em to the dirt
Check out the cloud, smoke out from the mouth
Other brothers got mad love for new style for the hood

Hey enter the square if you dare without a fro, I'm so raw that I'm real
I'm goin' to the country, I'm goin' to the fair
To see the Senorita, with flowers in her hair
And get mine, 'cuz she love me long time

Bartender bring more wine

Get in line for the
M E T H O D, Man
M E T H O D, Man
M E T H O D, Man
Here I am, here I am, the Method Man

Wu-Tang, killer bees on the swarm
It ain't safe no more
[Incomprehensible]
1993 to '94, the rugged raw
It's our secret, never ditch the Wu-Tang

Play the MP3 online for free!

907ef36a538583cea222e3da69592913

Nobody Can Stop Me - Lyrics - Heaven'z Movie - Bizzy Bone

Title: Nobody Can Stop Me
Album: Heaven'z Movie
Artist: Bizzy Bone
Composer(s): C Biggs, K Gamble, Johnny Jackson, Bryon Mccane, D Wansel

Lyric:
What are you goin' through?
What are you goin' through?
If you only knew, if only you knew

What are you goin' through?
What are you goin' through?
If you only knew
(Nobody can stop me, damn)

Nobody can stop me, now
Nobody can stop me, now

What are you goin' through?
What are you goin' through?
If you only knew
(Nobody can stop me)

What are you goin' through?
What are you goin' through?
If you only knew, if you only knew

Look at my sister sadden when my baby's Mammy
Like she can't stand me
Say family be the first to turn so pity Annie
Filamina, my Granny, celebrate the Grammy

Damn, who knew no plannin' was so perfect
Rollin' my Dam Me, never forget the Bones
Trippin' on foster homes, sayin' I wasn't manly with a
Scarred up soul, why can't my skeletons understand me?
What if I said I was molested? Would you look at me?

Peel, but I keep on bailin', and I hope I'd don't
Go to Hell, stressed out of well
Can I sell my bio? I was born in Ohio, already on trial
'Cause Pops said I looked too light, but mom's just white
But I still got your smile
And look at me now, gotta be proud of myself

Ain't nobody else soundin' so worried about my health
And all the while takin' care of my kids
How will they live if I ain't hustlin', strugglin'
Trustin' still keepin' Jesus a part of solution
He gives life in the lungs, breath through tongue, now here it comes
Now, here it comes and here we go

Nobody can stop me, now
Nobody can stop me, now
Nobody can stop me, now
Nobody can stop me, now
If only you knew what am I goin' through
Goin' through, goin' through?

And my Mama took plenty beatings
Now, in her third damn marriage and man actin' like he cares
Apparently 'till you perish, but I was always there for you
Even though you let me leave
He's beatin' the shit outta me, too probably

Why I got my bodyguards and I'm in charge?
Watch me sleep, the pay is meek
But stay with me, and keep my heart collateral
We'll never break apart
Y'all didn't see me with Eazy

As a child of God with the underdog
Never applaud once you reminisce through the ball
Movin' in Heaven's movie, y'all think of all that
Fucked-up shit you saw
Only if you knew what I was goin' through

What am I goin' through
Goin' through, goin' through?
If only you knew

Nobody can stop me, now
Nobody can stop me, now
Nobody can stop me, now
Nobody can stop me, now
If only you knew
What am I goin' through
Goin' through, goin' through?

Flashback to May with the weight of the world
Can't stop my girl from steppin'
Lookin' for affection in wrong places
My lesson to learn, the world turns
The early bird gets the worm

What if it's rotten while you rushin' for love and get burned?
Five kids that's my only concern
I was a father before I became a man
Society don't comprehend
Callin' me worthless, but I could purchase

What they purchase, but I understand
Behind closed curtains you workin' on being a man
Death scares me, but Jesus will prepare me
And hopefully repair me 'cuz God would want him to
Really really, ghetto media see the thug
Wash your sins, then it's true you can be born again

What am I goin' through
Goin' through, goin' through?
Nobody can stop me, now
Nobody can stop me, now
Nobody can stop me, now
Nobody can stop me, now

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a8f1cda4dc4e8872e9d78d080ed78e6f

Three Point One Four - Lyrics - Hooray For Boobies - Bloodhound Gang

Title: Three Point One Four
Album: Hooray For Boobies
Artist: Bloodhound Gang
Composer(s): James M. Franks

Lyric:
My last girlfriend didn't like me, thought she might be
Most likely a dyke, she just didn't excite me
Lefty, yeah, but that was alright
She was hotter than the sun but she just wasn't that bright
My mistake she was more flaky than a leper colony
I think a wooden clothespin would have been much better company
Ass like a donkey actin' funky gave her 'L', now she's a flunky
So my love for her died quicker than a batch of sea monkeys

Early bird gets the worm, spread your legs or spread the word
So what if I'm not the smartest peanut in the turd
I'm white which goes with everything but I can come in any color
And I'm looking for the kind of girl that reminds me of my mother
But it's hard to find a girl with a viper tattooed on her tushy
And how many girls do you know that can play the harmonica
With their pussies like 'em easy and hot and sweet
Like a Rice Krispie Treat gee, you know what I really want in a girl, me

I need to find a new vagina
Any kind of new vagina
It's hard to rhyme a word like vagina
Calvin Klein kind of North Carolina

Women are like dog, do hear me through, don't interrupt
It's just the older that they are the easier they get to pick up
I'd fill the generation gap, clean the cobwebs from her rafters
Old hens would rather put out than be put out to the pasture
No age just ain't a gauge, I like my girls like my cheese
Preferably for me fat-free American singles only
I want my next chick anorexic, the winner is the thinner
Won't have to take her skinny ass out to a fancy dinner

Like Sizzler she got a beef, we'll chew the fat
If I forget to put the seat up I can put up with her crap
Let her lash out and crack the whip but not in bed I don't play rough
No, I can't be tied down with a girl that wants me tied up
Just independent like NOFX, smart like Janeane Garafolo
She'd use big words to make fun of me so that I would never know
Bestow upon me all her wisdom of the Dewey Decimal System gee
You know what I really want in a girl, me

I need to find a new vagina
Any kind of new vagina
It's hard to rhyme a word like vagina
Kevin Kline kind of South Carolina

Vagina, vagina
Vagina, vagina
Vagina, vagina
Vagina, vagina

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1bf6fdfffa21db52613ee8815198fe23

War At 33 1/3 - Lyrics - Public Enemy

Title: War At 33 1/3
Artist: Public Enemy
Composer(s): Eric T. Sadler, Carlton Ridenhour, Keith M. Boxley

Lyric:
War at 33 1/3, haven't you heard
I got quick and clever at the level
Of a scientist with this list
My fist pumps, chumps and don't miss

Sorry majority grudgin' against the enemy
And any other nigger wit an attitude see
And any other rapper whose a brother
Who try to speak to one another

Gets smothered by the other kind
No so divine so I heard it through the grapevine
Sent the feds out to get mine
Time yo-yo to go Bronco in 90-91
Laughin' while they're searchin' for my 98

Accelerate the race from the chase
Looka my face
It ain't hate but they don't want a debate
To take great

Can I live my life without 'em treatin'?
Every brother like me, like we're holdin'
A knife alright time to smack Uncle Sam
Don't give a damn, look at the flag

My bloods a flood without credit
Black and close to the edit
I fed it, you read it, just remember who said it
War at 33 1/3 not really live, I rather do it at 45

Went west in the quest for my intelligence
Climbed a fence took a teacher on
Ain't seen him since, hence he winced
And convinced that the Black

Was back revolving to a renaissance
Bronze to gold I told felt bold
Taught a so called teacher our role
In civilizin' the whole globe

Banned unplanned as I said
I don't break down religion why?
There ain't a smidgen for a pigeon
Nature for bird, dog, worm or lion

So my question to man is, so why the lyin'?
God's law I saw is natural factual
Only man creates a waste
Defiance in his haste

Based on scheme a scam
From some mastermind damn if we read it
And we see it and still be blind
No need to search a fake church

Evangelical, huster
Anglo taxin' to muscle ya
Check I wreck you guess yes
All the bullshit now that's progress

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4b043e1a4f1a21554417f86205b8b583

Worm Drink - Lyrics - Blast Tyrant - Clutch

Title: Worm Drink
Album: Blast Tyrant
Artist: Clutch
Composer(s): Neil Fallon, Jean Paul Gaster, Dan Maines, Richard Timothy Sult

Lyric:
I'll march no longer
I'll fight no more
You can send out all the track snivelers
But I'm done with war

Wind him up, bring him back
Conscript, deserter
The worm drink is loose
Wind him up, bring him back
Conscript, deserter
The proof is in the juice

University Boulevard
New Hampshire Avenue
Tick tock liquor
Thunder bird

And now that we have totally lost all composure
We will wither from exposure beneath the sun

Wind him up, bring him back
Conscript, deserter
The worm drink is loose
Wind him up, bring him back
Conscript, deserter
The proof is in the juice

If you see me at the bottom
Please bring me my running shoes
And if you see me getting caught up
Yeah, you know what to do

I'll march no longer
I'm done with war
Send out your snivelers
But I'll march no more

Wind him up, bring him back
Conscript, deserter
The worm drink is loose
Wind him up, bring him back
Conscript, deserter
The proof is in the juice

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e4104d771d798c9c6e8ec21b62f70959

Little Bird - Lyrics - Beach Boys

Title: Little Bird
Artist: Beach Boys
Composer(s): S Kalinich, D Wilson

Lyric:
Little bird up in a tree
Looked down and sang a song to me
Of how it began

Na na na na
Na na na na
Na na na na
Na na na na

The trout in the shiny brook
Gave a worm another look
And told me not to worry
About my life

Na na na na
Na na na na
Na na na na
Na na na na

Tree in my own backyard
Stands all alone
Bears fruit for me
And it tastes so good

Where's my pretty bird?
He must have flown away
If I keep singin'
He'll come back someday

Dawn, bird's still gone
Guess I'll go mow the lawn

What a day, what a day
Ooo, what a beautiful day this is

Little bird up in a tree
Looked down and sang a song to me

The trout in a shiny brook
Gave a worm another look
And told me not to worry about my life

Little bird looked down
And sang a song to me
A little bird looked down
And sang a song to me
A little bird looked down
And sang a song to me

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7957fe40eb5fb760d8fa81ef6d4f07c5

Cold Brains - Lyrics - Mutations - Beck

Title: Cold Brains
Album: Mutations
Artist: Beck
Composer(s): Beck Campbell

Lyric:
Cold brains
Unmoved, untouched, unglued
Alone at last

And no thoughts
No mind to rot behind
A trail of disasters

A final curse
Abandoned hearse
We ride disowned
Corroded to the bone

The fields of green
Are bent obscene
I lay upon the gravel

And a worm of hope
A hangman's rope
Pulls me one way or the other

A final curse
Abandoned hearse
We ride disowned
Corroded to the bone

A bird of song
Is heard no longer
In the evacuated heavens

And the drain is drawn
And drained and gone
And all and all it doesn't matter

A final curse
Abandoned hearse
We ride disowned
Corroded to the bone

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db588d1b3e462e14c977797e20f5c14c