Showing posts sorted by relevance for query The New Boy. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query The New Boy. Sort by date Show all posts

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

The New Boy - Lyrics - Ode to Ochrasy - Mando Diao

Title: The New Boy
Album: Ode to Ochrasy
Artist: Mando Diao
Composer(s): Bjorn Dixgard, Gustaf Noren

Lyric:
She was only twenty-one
But so much older than she's now
Now she passed the twenty-four
I guess it's time to say goodbye

Here's the new, here's the real
Here's the life you like to live
Now here's the new boy
Taking on the world tonight

When we met, she smelled like honey
When we kissed she tasted tears
Then for fourteen thousand seconds
We made love behind old fears

Here's the new, here's the real
Here's the life you wished you lived
Now here's the new boy
Taking on the world tonight

Take the words on your way
I don't waste the things I say
When in doubt, fuck the world
Forget all the things you've heard
Now here's the new boy
Taking on the world tonight, no

Why so sad? Don't you like my way of life?
I don't last forever, neither do the things we love
You are wise, this is now this is all the things I want
Everything around us is moving except time

She was only twenty-four
But so much younger than the past
We've laid all our troubles down
And now it's us against the rest

Here's the new, here's the real
Here's the life you like to live
Now here's the new boy
Taking on the world tonight

Take the words on your way
I don't waste the things I say
When in doubt, fuck the world
Forget all the things you've heard
Now here's the new boy
Taking on the world tonight, no

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12abd93c2726c06b60cb940aae724847

Friday, August 6, 2010

Talk Of The Town - Lyrics - Rampage

Title: Talk Of The Town
Artist: Rampage
Composer(s): Roger Mcnair, George Spivey

Lyric:
Rampage
Yeah motherfuckas is talk, bullshit Saddam
We hear that, we gotta take these niggas to war
I'm wit ya, Flipmode, check it out
Fuck the jacks

Rampage the talk of the town
The stalker of New York that fucks up the underground

Rampage the talk of the town
The stalker of New York that fucks up the underground

Rampage the talk of the town
The stalker of New York that fucks up the underground

Rampage the talk of the town
The stalker of New York that fucks up the underground

I split yo spleen, clean ya body with Listerine
Microphone fiend, Boy Scout on the winning team
All y'all niggas, yo we take all bets
Yo I'm killin brothers on the train like Bernard Yes
Yo I'm crazy, motherfuckas got me vexed
You some frontin ass nigga in your feet up blank
You need to take a back seat, before my crew brings a heat
We can go man for man, or street to street
Yo I heard it thru the grapevine, you Rock Steady
(You just a butter knife, I'm a machete)
I co defend you, reck ya squad that defend you
Check the menu, 'cause I'm so far in you
I burn out ya conclex, or with the fuck
Here comes my body blow, here comes the uppercut
I got the rhymes that make you pull out ya guts
Flipmode Iz Da Squad nigga, hold ya nuts
96 To 2000, Boy Scout nigga what
Stickin the dick in the fat bitche's butt

Rampage the talk of the town
The stalker of New York that fucks up the underground

Rampage the talk of the town
The stalker of New York that fucks up the underground

I marks the spot, My Flipmode niggas up in the dark
Back in the days, I used to spark in 181 park
I'm off the hook, you can see my whole outlook
I'm just another rugged Scout straight out from Brook
New York Ave is where I chill with baress
Representin mom dukes, gettin shit off my chest
Got the 4 pound, Desert Eagle, Smith and Wess
It's Boy Scout nigga, you know rockin wit the best
I'mma hold it down, a hundred dollars a pot
I won't stop, I drink it to ya very last drop
I smack you in the face with a bunch of banaid
Got so many styles, I fuck up you and your sensai
I'm So So Def, I'm bout to plan my escape
My Flipmode niggas, we like Planets of the Apes
I won't stop rockin till I get my platinum plate
My group is shuttin shit down like ATF and All State
I'm showin brothers it's my time to roll
Because I am so cold, cold, cold

Rampage the talk of the town
The stalker of New York that fucks up the underground

Rampage the talk of the town
The stalker of New York that fucks up the underground

Rampage the talk of the town
The stalker of New York that fucks up the underground

The twin tower, I got power to devour
A saba emcee that's so depth
Lyrical expert that fucks up your urban network
Rip off ya t-shirt and ya concert
You fade away like Son of Berzerk
Boy Scout's an outlaw, I tap ya jaw
Flipmode take 'em to war
I'm on fire, yo Saddam past the papaya
The stakes is high, I gag him with barbwire
He's a liar, bullets still rest up in his tire
It's up on Empire, he singin notes like Mariah
But what he don't know, Boy Scout is the illest
I'm on the scene like Bruce Willis

Rampage the talk of the town
The stalker of New York that fucks up the underground

Rampage the talk of the town
The stalker of New York that fucks up the underground

Rampage the talk of the town
The stalker of New York that fucks up the underground

Rampage the talk of the town
The stalker of New York that fucks up the underground

Rampage the talk of the town
The stalker of New York that fucks up the underground

Rampage the talk of the town
The stalker of New York that fucks up the underground

Bling bling, ah ah

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3f6156ceddfb569e63d2b64987001c0f

Monday, August 9, 2010

Rock The Boat - Lyrics - I Care 4 U - Aaliyah

Title: Rock The Boat
Album: I Care 4 U
Artist: Aaliyah
Composer(s): Stephen Garrett, Eric L. Seats, Rapture D. Stewart

Lyric:
Boy, you know you make me float
Boy, you really get me high
I feel like I'm on dope
'Cause you serve me on a regular

Boy, you gotta stroke
Before drifting me deeper
You're there now, hold me close
Boy, let's take this overboard now

I want you to
Rock the boat, rock the boat
Rock the boat, rock the boat
Work the middle, work the middle
Work the middle, work the middle

Change positions, new positions
New positions, new positions
Stroke it for me, stroke it for me
Stroke it for me, stroke it for me

Ooh, baby, I love your stroke
'Cause you, 'cause you get me to where I'm going
In a jury you'll get my vote
'Cause I believe, I believe you know just what you doing now

Baby, now we can coast
Let's do it in a hurry
That's too slow
Go ahead and put that thing in over drive

I want you to
Rock the boat, rock the boat
Rock the boat, rock the boat
Work the middle, work the middle
Work the middle, work the middle

Change positions, new positions
New positions, new positions
Stroke it for me, stroke it for me
Stroke it for me, stroke it for me

I want you to
Rock the boat, rock the boat
Rock the boat, rock the boat
Work the middle, work the middle
Work the middle, work the middle

Change positions, new positions
New positions, new positions
Stroke it for me, stroke it for me
Stroke it for me, stroke it for me

Stroke it for me
Stroke it baby, stroke it baby
Work it baby, work it baby
Stroke it
There is something I want you to

I need you to use yourself
Like you never ever used it before
To explore my body
Until you reach the shore
You'll be calling, calling for more

Rock the boat, rock the boat
Rock the boat, rock the boat
Work the middle, work the middle
Work the middle, work the middle

Change positions, new positions
New positions, new positions
Stroke it for me, stroke it for me
Stroke it for me, stroke it for me

I want you to
Rock the boat, rock the boat
Rock the boat, rock the boat
Work the middle, work the middle
Work the middle, work the middle

Change positions, new positions
New positions, new positions
Stroke it for me, stroke it for me
Stroke it for me, stroke it for me

Rock the boat, rock the boat
Rock the boat, rock the boat
Work the middle, work the middle
Work the middle, work the middle

Change positions, new positions
New positions, new positions
Stroke it for me, stroke it for me
Stroke it for me, stroke it for me

Rock the boat, rock the boat
Rock the boat, rock the boat

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f400f6db4f26899f0eb743c80fa1be6d

Thursday, August 5, 2010

New Shit - Lyrics - Teairra Mari

Title: New Shit
Artist: Teairra Mari
Composer(s): Kwame Holland

Lyric:
I got plans for you and me
We both need to move on
'Cuz you ain't what I need
It took some time for me to find out

I didn't sign up for misery
And no we can't work it out
Things ain't the same way that they used to be
'Cuz you don't feel for me no more

I got some new clothes, new kicks
I got a new crib, new whip
All your drama, I don't miss
I'm so over you, boy
I'm on some new shit

I can't believe I was with you
All the pain that I went through
I sing a new song, new hit
I'm so over you, boy
I'm on some new shit

Now boy, don't start blowing up my phone
I thought I told you to be gone
(Be gone)
Had the chance to make things right
But you kept doing me wrong

This ain't a break up to make up game
I'ma do you how you did me
'Cuz this is a new day, new change, new me
I'm moving on to some new shit

I got some new clothes, new kicks
(New kicks)
I got a new crib, new whip
(New whip)
All your drama, I don't miss
I'm so over you, boy
I'm on some new shit

I can't believe I was with you
All the pain that I went through
(All the pain I went through)
I sing a new song, new hit
(New hit)
I'm so over you, boy
I'm on some new shit

Now that I know he ain't the one for me
(Now I know this, now I know this)
(Now I know this, so tell would it)
Tell me, would it make sense for me not to leave?
You know I'm already going
I guess it's time to move on

I got some new clothes, new kicks
I got a new crib, new whip
All your drama, I don't miss
(I don't miss)
I'm so over you, boy
I'm on some new shit
(Boy, I'm on some new shit)

I can't believe I was with you
All the pain that I went through
I sing a new song, new hit
I'm so over you, boy
I'm on some new shit

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
(I'm on some new shit)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
(I'm on some new shit)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
(I'm on some new shit)

I'm so over you, boy
I'm on some new shit
I'm so over you, boy
I'm on some new shit

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ddc1a4a45997900a701e288f17b10916

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

New York, New York - Lyrics - Up Close & Personal - Angie Martinez

Title: New York, New York
Album: Up Close & Personal
Artist: Angie Martinez
Composer(s): Brian Coleman, Angie Martinez, Albert Johnson, J Martinez, Galt Mcdermot

Lyric:
DJ Clue Desert Storm Angie Martinez Prodigy
Live from New York nigga

Uhh uhh yo-yo, uhh, yo
They say it ain't where you from that it's where you at
But where I'm from, y'all can tell, don't matter where I'm at
Born and bred in the streets of New York, New York
It's evident in the way that I talk-a-talk
I travel abroad by the Concorde, with a Clue tape (Clue!)
Stop in Sicily and tell 'em they pizza fake
And I keep the faith in the Knicks, them fuckers
And I'm quick to get slick with the lip and word to mother
Love a dude with a doo-rag, from where we suffer
From growin up too fast, I'm a rude ass bitch when I need to be
But I'm cool as shit if you real with me, you feelin me?
I never sleep like my city when it's time to get this money
Got game, spot game, so don't act funny (hah hah)
We the block, we the ave, we the Bronx, we Manhattan
From Staten, to Long Island, we make it happen, out in

NEW YORK, NEW YORK
The city, the buildings
The big rotten apple, old timers and children
NEW YORK, NEW YORK
We trendsetters
We gave birth to rap music, y'all niggaz know better
We NEW YORK, NEW YORK
The latest fashion, listen
We get our jewels from the Diamond District
Out in NEW YORK, NEW YORK
The brave, the great
The Eastside nigga, the Empire State

Nigga we gangsta, we dress to kill
We on some real live Mobb shit, pullin up in trucks flossin
The bosses, we scare 'em straight, it's not a game
How we bully shit, you fuck around and get your food ate boy
My razor make your face ke-loid
Then I throw my drink at you (woo!) just to make that shit burn
We make heads turn when we step in
You starin at my piece swingin, it might hypnotize you
Dunn, we never had to tuck our chains
Marquis diamonds all up in your face
We the hood, we the projects, we Brooklyn, we Queens
In the streets, our music is murder, ya heard me?
It's P (yeah) loud and clear, it ain't fair
How I keep droppin that shit that make you look stupid
Me and Angie, got the hottest shit movin on the block right now
Y'all bitches bow down, to

NEW YORK, NEW YORK
The city, the buildings
The big rotten apple, old timers and children
NEW YORK, NEW YORK
We trendsetters
We gave birth to rap music, y'all niggaz know better
We NEW YORK, NEW YORK
The latest fashion, listen
We get our jewels from the Diamond District
Out in NEW YORK, NEW YORK
The brave, the great
The Eastside nigga, the Empire State

Yo, we don't negotiate, we move on impulse
You try to insult me and my associates
So that note, we let the guns speak on our behalf
We got dough to keep dirt up off our hands
C'mon, we the M-O-B-B nigga
We the Mobb, who the fuck did you think it was?
Step aside youngbloods when you see New York niggaz come through
Silent murder, that's how we do

Out in NEW YORK, NEW YORK - where they tend to wild out
Who am I? Everything bitches pretend to be about
Angie, yeah baby, you thought it was me
Notoriously, N.Y.C. and y'all can see
I'ma be that chick you remember for life
I got, niggaz sick tryin to make me they wife
I'm in the 5 overdrive as I glide across the bridge
Rockin my sunglasses, signin pictures for the kids
I demolish from Tribeca to Hollis
Sky's the Limit like Chris Wallace, you can't stop it
Comin through respect due cause I'm the people's choice
Stop actin new yo, cause you know I'm the voice of

NEW YORK, NEW YORK
The city, the buildings
The big rotten apple, old timers and children
NEW YORK, NEW YORK
We trendsetters
We gave birth to rap music, y'all niggaz know better
We NEW YORK, NEW YORK
The latest fashion, listen
We get our jewels from the Diamond District
Out in NEW YORK, NEW YORK
The brave, the great
The Eastside nigga, the Empire State

Big shout to Queens, Brooklawn
Uptown, the B.X., L.I., Shaolin, Y.O
Nigga
Desert Storm, Roc-A-Fella, it's William nigga Holla
Hev. E Components nigga, we built like that

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a3c8982867b9d43ea55c929df6a810c3

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Z - 30 Something - Lyrics - Kingdom Come - Jay

Title: Z - 30 Something
Album: Kingdom Come
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Mark Batson, Andre Romell Young, Dawaun Parker, Sean Cruse, Shawn Carter

Lyric:
You ain't got enough stamps in your passport
To *** with Young HO, international
Show young boys how to do this thing
The maturation of Jay-Zeezy, check me out

30's the new 20, ***, I'm so hot still
Better broad, better automobile
Bet a yard, bet a hundred mil
Then by the song's end, I'll probably start another trend

I know ev'ry thing you wan' do
I did all that by the age of twenty one
By twenty two, I had that brand new Ac' Coupe
I guess you could say that my legend just begun

I'm young enough to know the right car to buy
Yet grown enough not to put rims on it
I got that six-deuce with curtains, so you can't see me
And I didn't even have to put tints on it

I don't got the bright watch, I got the right watch
I don't buy out the bar, I bought the nightspot
I got the right stock
I got stockbrokers that's movin' it like white tops

I know you like, ?*** this is child abuse
Call DYFS?, I must just be gettin' nicer
You young boys ain't ready fa' real
30's the new 20, *** I'm so hot still

I used to let my pants sag, not givin' a ***
Baby boy, now I'm all grown up
I used to cruise the used car lot, put chrome on the truck
Baby boy, now I'm all grown up

I used to play the block like that
I used to carry knots like that
Now I got Black cards, good credit and such
Baby boy 'cause I'm all grown up

30's the new 20, *** I'm on fire still
These young boys is like fire drills
False alarms, the next don
He ain't got it, on to the next one

I'm still here, still here like Mike
Gotta stop playin' with these children
I'm a bully with the bucks
Don't let the patent leather shoes fool you, young'n
I got the fully in the tux

That was my past, now I'm so grown up
I don't got one gun on me
Gotta a sum army to hire a gun army, get you spun like laundry
And I'll be somewhere under palm trees, calmly listenin' to R&B

When we get the call, he's no longer wit us
Fire your babysitters
You little *** fall back fa' real
30's the new 20, *** I'm so hot still

I used to let my pants sag, not givin' a ***
Baby boy, now I'm all grown up
I used to cruise the used car lot, put chrome on the truck
Baby boy, now I'm all grown up

I used to wear my hoodie like that
Pile deep in a hooptie like that
Now I got Black cards, good credit and such
Baby boy 'cause I'm all grown up

Y'all roll *** I smoke Cubans all day
Y'all youngin's chase, I'm Patron and it's great
I like South Beach but I'm in St. Tropez
Y'all drink Dom but not Rosé

Your chick shop at the mall
My chick burn it down Bergdorf's
Comin' back with Birkin bags
Your chick is like, "What type of purse is that?"

I'm from the era where *** don't snitch
You from the era where snitchin' is the ***
I'm afraid of the future
Y'all respect the one who got shot, I respect the shooter

Y'all go to parties to ice grill
I go to parties to party with nice girls
Young boys gotta chill
30's the new 20, *** I'm so hot still

I used to let my pants sag, not givin' a ***
Baby boy, now I'm all grown up
I used to cruise the used car lot, put chrome on the truck
Baby boy, now I'm all grown up

Yeah, we used to ball like that
Now we own the ball team, holla back
Now I got Black cards, good credit and such
Baby boy 'cause I'm all grown up

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c59a6eafb02f04f4239c8b03ff400279

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Boy From New York City - Lyrics - Manhattan Transfer

Title: Boy From New York City
Artist: Manhattan Transfer
Composer(s): George Davis, John Taylor

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Lyric:
Ooh ah, ooh ah, cool, cool kitty
Tell us about the boy from New York City
Ooh ah, ooh ah, come on kitty
Tell us about the boy from New York City

He's kinda tall, he's really fine
Someday I hope to make him mine, all mine
And he's neat, and, oh so sweet
And just the way he looked at me
He swept me off my feet

Oowee, you ought to come and see
How he walks and how he talks
(Yeah yeah, yeah yeah)

Ooh ah, ooh ah, cool, cool kitty
Tell us about the boy from New York City

He's really down and he's no clown
He has the finest penthouse I've ever seen in town
And he's cute in his Mohair suit
And he keeps his pockets full of spending loot

Oowee, say you ought to come and see
His dueling scar and brand new car
(Yeah yeah)

Every time he says he loves me
Chills run down my spine
Every time he wants to kiss me
Oh, he makes me feel so fi-i-ine, oh yeah

Ooh ah, ooh ah, cool, cool kitty
Tell us about the boy from New York City

Oh, he can dance and make romance
(He can dance, take a chance with a little romance, baby)
('Cause he's a looker)
That's when I fell in love with just one glance
(He's sweet talking and cool)

He was shy and so was I
And now I know I'll never, ever say goodbye

Oowee, say you ought to come and see
He's the most from coast to coast
(Yeah yeah, yeah yeah)

Ooh ah, ooh ah, cool, cool kitty
Tell us about the boy from New York City
Ooh ah, ooh ah, come on kitty
Tell us about the boy from New York City

Ooh ah, ooh ah, cool, cool kitty
Tell us about the boy from New York City
Ooh ah, ooh ah, come on kitty
Tell us about the boy from New York City

Ooh ah, ooh ah, cool, cool kitty
Tell us about the boy from New York City
Ooh ah, ooh ah, come on kitty
Tell us about the boy from New York City
...

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245e91cf41ec5ba4efa7102da1a26eef

Friday, July 30, 2010

I'Ll Whip Ya Head Boy - Lyrics - 50 Cent

Title: I'Ll Whip Ya Head Boy
Artist: 50 Cent
Composer(s): D Brown, Curtis James Jackson, Rondell Edwin Turner

Lyric:
I'll whip ya head boy, you know I will
I'll whip ya head boy, with the back of the steel
I'll whip ya head boy, your cap could get peeled
I'll whip ya head boy, your ass could get killed

I'll whip ya head boy, you know I will
I'll whip ya head boy, with the back of the steel
I'll whip ya head boy, your cap could get peeled
I'll whip ya head boy, your ass could get killed

Two niggaz in the front, two niggaz in the back
That's four niggaz riding strapped in grandpa's Cadillac
The voice in my head say fuck all these niggaz
Then I start thinking, I should rob all these niggaz

Man my homies they want do whatever I want do
I say I want eat they say shit we want eat to
Let's ride around find a nigga stunting on first street
With the shine's on niggaz be looking like lunch meat

I run up on a nigga, pop one on the floor
Tell um come up off that shit 'fore we start popping some more
Fuck a ski mask, man niggaz know who I is
I got a full clip and niggaz know I get biz

I'll whip ya head boy, you know I will
I'll whip ya head boy, with the back of the steel
I'll whip ya head boy, your cap could get peeled
I'll whip ya head boy, your ass could get killed

I'll whip ya head boy, you know I will
I'll whip ya head boy, with the back of the steel
I'll whip ya head boy, your cap could get peeled
I'll whip ya head boy, your ass could get killed

I'm up early in the morning, tryna make a move
You coming in here with me shorty take your lil' one to school
Even though she cause the drama, you love your baby momma
I hit her with the lama to get this cake

Give us the coke, the cash, the combo to the safe
Oh, she don't know it, damn, okay we'll wait
I play with your kid on the couch, while your bitch on the phone
With a gun to her head saying, "Daddy come home"

You was rolling, popping bubbly, didn't think it get ugly
In the hood shit is lovely until it go bad
Now you can pray for a miracle and God might be hearing you
And the nine will jam, right in my hand

I'll whip ya head boy, you know I will
I'll whip ya head boy, with the back of the steel
I'll whip ya head boy, your cap could get peeled
I'll whip ya head boy, your ass could get killed

I'll whip ya head boy, you know I will
I'll whip ya head boy, with the back of the steel
I'll whip ya head boy, your cap could get peeled
I'll whip ya head boy, your ass could get killed

I got his homies screaming buck you need to calm down
Niggaz be getting killed every time you come around
We ran up in his crib made his momma kiss the ground
She asking God, what my baby dunn did now?

I'm taking every thang, jewelry I want it all
Duck tape him up, rip the phone cords out the wall
Fuck waiting we can starting waiting on tomorrow
So ask Satan if he got a car that I can borrow

I'm impatient like a money hungry rap star
I jack him for his chain and I can get a new jaguar
The mack I have his brains all over the fucking sidewalk
And I'ma be on CNN again it ain't my fault
March nigga step, right nigga lef'
G-Unit soldier I'm thugging till my death mothafuckas

I'll whip ya head boy, you know I will
I'll whip ya head boy, with the back of the steel
I'll whip ya head boy, your cap could get peeled
I'll whip ya head boy, your ass could get killed

I'll whip ya head boy, you know I will
I'll whip ya head boy, with the back of the steel
I'll whip ya head boy, your cap could get peeled
I'll whip ya head boy, your ass could get killed

Play the MP3 online for free!
d4bc72c3035401dfd988a7b328be64a1

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

A Brand New Me - Lyrics - The Iceman Cometh/Ice on Ice - Jerry Butler

Title: A Brand New Me
Album: The Iceman Cometh/Ice on Ice
Artist: Jerry Butler
Composer(s): Theresa Bell, Jerry Butler, Kenneth Gamble

Lyric:
This is my same old coat
These are my same old shoes
It was the same old me
With the same old blues

Oh, then you touched my life
Just by holding my hand
And when I look in the mirror
I see a brand new girl, oh me

Just because of you, boy
Just because of you whoa, oh, oh
Just because of you, boy
Just because of you

I got the same old friends
And they've got the same old sins
I tell them the same old jokes
And I get the same old grins

But now the joke is on you
It happened somehow with you
Everyday of my life
I'm as fresh as morning dew

Just because of you
Just because of you, whoa, oh, oh, oh
Just because of you, boy
Just because of you

I go to the same old places
I see the same old faces
I look at the same old sky
See it all with brand new eye

I got a brand new boy
And I got me a brand new smile
Since I found you, baby
I got me a brand new style

Just because of you, boy
Just because of you, oh, I feel good
Just because of you, boy
Just because of you, oh, I feel good

Just because of you, boy
Hey, just because of you, yes, I do
Just because of you, boy
Just because of you, oh, it feels good

Just because of you, boy
Yeah, just because of you
Just because of you, boy
Just because, because, because of you

Just because of you, boy
Ooh, boy
Just because of you, boy
Ooh, boy
Just because of you, boy
Ooh, boy

Play the MP3 online for free!
fc2197ce3d3568c4b8165ee40310e59b

Friday, August 13, 2010

What Happened To That Boy - Lyrics - Baby Aka The #1 Stunna

Title: What Happened To That Boy
Artist: Baby Aka The #1 Stunna
Composer(s): G Thornton, P Williams, C Hugo, Bryan Williams, T Thornton

Lyric:
Aye, aye, aye, ya, tot' 'em up, light it up nigga
Bird man motherfucker, clipse, VA, hey no nigga
What you smelt, coke'll leave plastic
Get off the border motherfucker
Come on little'n handle your business for me boy

What happened to that boy?
What happened to that boy?
What happened to that boy?
He was talking shit we put a clap into that boy

What happened to that boy?
What happened to that boy?
What happened to that boy?
He was talking shit we put a clap into that boy

I heard they snitchin' on a player man say it ain't so
Even as a young and they consigned me to blow
Witches claims why I'm worth my weight in gold
While they was taking baby steps from an 8th to an O

Word in the streets that can envy as me
Enough ice on that watch to make a nigga lose sleep
Magnified face help the bitch see clearly
9 on the waist hit the bitch up severely

I'm known for the flip of that coke I ener
I'm heavy in the street like the 7 series bimma
Man hit 'em with the Nina man
Or that 4/5th guaranteed to lean ya man whoa

I'm the reason that your block is vacant
Malicious will hit ya just to make a statement
Bitch clips and cash money who ain't rich
Don't compare me to you nigga you ain't this, whoa

What happened to that boy?
What happened to that boy?
What happened to that boy?
He was talking shit we put a clap into that boy

What happened to that boy?
What happened to that boy?
What happened to that boy?
He was talking shit we put a clap into that boy

Stunna and patty cake the worldwide pusha
Bird man nigga leave the guns in the busher
Been shittin' up bricks unload 'em to Gucci
Boss of the ghetto with the round shape cookie

Shit one, dro one nigga flood the block
If I don't go to jail niggas birds gone flop
Nigga sittin' on the toilet bitch get off the pot
The bird just landed so the hood gon' rot

New whips, big chips the Prada Gucci shit
But mami your fly Benz the wide skinny lips
She takes my flight, she holds my weight
While the po-po staked out from state to state

It ain't nuttin' to a baller baby pay the cars, big money
Heavy weight, bird man, hood boss
Baby steppin' on my line I'll show a little somethin'
They callin' you don't come out then the black crow will touch ya

What happened to that boy?
What happened to that boy?
What happened to that boy?
He was talking shit we put a clap into that boy

What happened to that boy?
What happened to that boy?
What happened to that boy?
He was talking shit we put a clap into that boy

Another soul lost
Had to make a shirt match my ox blood colored Porsche
The rims match of course
Blood hit his timbs it reminded me of them

Glistenin' wrist on chiller, gun in the same palm of gorgeous killer
I put this on my Lord my niece was 4 when she felt chinchilla
I past the shore for that shit that made fiends
Rise from the dead like thriller

Gangster hustler at night still found time to kiss my mother
Live like I'm dreamin' kick my feet up
Gun pulled my waist remind me of my demon
So quite ya yappin' fore I get to clappin'
And have your body parts mix and matching fella

What happened to that boy?
What happened to that boy?
What happened to that boy?
He was talking shit we put a clap into that boy

What happened to that boy?
What happened to that boy?
What happened to that boy?
He was talking shit we put a clap into that boy

Aye, aye, aye, aye, there it is nigga, there you have it
Bird man, clips you under-smelt, VA you know
Uptown nigga, we go anywhere with this bullshit
We flip bricks you under-smell

Aye nigga put this puzzle together, aye Pharrell you did this year
A 1000 pieces puzzles 100, you know, let's get this money
Hey nigga I smell somethin', coke'll leave plastic bitch
You know get money motherfucker

However you want it you can get it pimp
From gangster to blood, nigga take it how you want it nigga
We did it how we live, ain't nothin' but the thug thing nigga
Money thing motherfucker

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b18969ad0df6132434ef78d3103c1bb5

Saturday, August 14, 2010

What Happened To That Boy - Lyrics - Birdman - Birdman

Title: What Happened To That Boy
Album: Birdman
Artist: Birdman
Composer(s): G Thornton, P Williams, C Hugo, Bryan Williams, T Thornton

Lyric:
Aye, aye, aye, ya
Tot' 'em up, light it up, nigga
Birdman, motherfucker

Clipse, VA, NO, nigga, what you smelt?
Coke'll leave plastic, boy
[Incomprehensible] border motherfucker
Come on little'n handle your business for me boy

What happened to that boy
What happened to that boy
What happened to that boy
He was talking shit
We put a clap into that boy

What happened to that boy
What happened to that boy
What happened to that boy
He was talking shit
We put a clap into that boy

I heard he snitchin' on a player, man, say it ain't so
Even as a young'n they consigned me to blow
Witches claims why I'm worth my weight in gold
While they was taking baby steps from an 8th to an O

Word in the streets that can envy as me
Enough ice on that watch to make a nigga lose sleep
Magnified face help the bitch see clearly
9 on the waist hit the bitch up severely

I'm known for the flip of that Coke I ener
I'm heavy in the street like the 7 series Bimma
Man, hit 'em with the Nina man
Or that 4/5th guaranteed to lean ya, man

Oh, I'm the reason that your block is vacant
Malicious will hit ya just to make a statement, bitch
Clipse and Cash Money, who ain't rich?
Don't compare me to you, nigga, you ain't this, woh

What happened to that boy
What happened to that boy
What happened to that boy
He was talking shit
We put a clap into that boy

What happened to that boy
What happened to that boy
What happened to that boy
He was talking shit
We put a clap into that boy

Stunna and Patty Cake, the worldwide Pusha
Birdman, nigga, leave the guns in the busher
Been shittin' up bricks unload 'em to Gucci
Boss of the ghetto, with the round shape cookie

Shit one, Dro one, nigga, flood the block
If I don't go to jail, niggas, birds gone flop
Nigga sittin' on the toilet, bitch, get off the pot
The bird just landed so the hood gon' rot

New whips, big chips, the Prada, Gucci shit
But, mami, you fly Benz, the wide skinny lips
She takes my flight, she holds my weight
While the po-po staked out from state to state

It ain't nuttin' to a baller baby
Pay the cars, big money, heavy weight, Birdman, hood boss
Baby steppin' on my line, I'll show a little somethin'
They callin' you don't come out then the black crow'll touch ya

What happened to that boy
What happened to that boy
What happened to that boy
He was talking shit
We put a clap into that boy

What happened to that boy
What happened to that boy
What happened to that boy
He was talking shit
We put a clap into that boy

Another soul lost, had to make a shirt
Match my ox blood colored Porsche
The rims match of course
Blood hit his Timbs, it reminded me of them

Glistenin' wrist on chiller
Gun in the same palm of gorgeous killer
I put this on my Lord
My niece was 4 when she felt chinchilla

I past the shore for that shit that made fiends
Rise from the dead like Thriller
Gangster, hustler
At night, still found time to kiss my mother

Live like I'm dreamin', kick my feet up
Gun pulled my waist remind me of my demon
So quite ya yappin' fore I get to clappin'
And have your body parts mix and matching fella

What happened to that boy
What happened to that boy
What happened to that boy
He was talking shit
We put a clap into that boy

What happened to that boy
What happened to that boy
What happened to that boy
He was talking shit
We put a clap into that boy

Aye, aye, aye, aye
There it is, nigga, there you have it
Birdman, Clipse you under-smelt, VA you know?
Uptown, nigga, we go anywhere with this bullshit
We flip bricks you under-smell

Aye nigga, put this puzzle together
Aye Pharrell, you did this year
1000 pieces puzzles, 100, you know?
Let's get this money

Hey nigga, I smell somethin'
Coke'll leave plastic, bitch, you know?
Get money, motherfucker
However you want, it you can get it, pimp
From gangster to blood

Nigga, take it how you want it, nigga
We did it how we live
Ain't nothin' but the thug thing, nigga
Money thing, mother

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3e566313cab09b62121b042bd4a72dcf

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Doe Boy Fresh - Lyrics - Last 2 Walk - Three 6 Mafia

Title: Doe Boy Fresh
Album: Last 2 Walk
Artist: Three 6 Mafia
Composer(s): Jordan Houston, Paul D. Beauregard, Hakeem Seriki

Lyric:
Yeah, Hypnotize Minds, Three 6 Mafia
Academy Award winners, what?
Chamillionaire, we stronger then ever, for real
The last 2 off, goin', it's goin' down

I stay doe boy, doe, doe, doe boy fresh
Yeah, now what it is, boy?
Doe boy, doe, doe, doe boy fresh
Yeah, now what it is, boy?

Doe boy, doe, doe, doe boy fresh
Yeah, now what it is, boy?
Doe boy, doe, doe, doe boy fresh
Yeah, now what it is, boy?

Another day, another dollar, another night to make a hoe holler
I pop her cherry, then I pop my collar
Pop brand new tags off a brand new clothes
Brush my hair back and kick the hoe out the door

Flip a quarter, see which ride I'm pullin' out the garage
While it's transmitters in the bump of my barge
Pull a pack out as if my body ever sinned
10 o'clock at night but my day just begin

07 Murcielago with the wings out
I usually never drive it but I heard the hoes out
Fresher than a mint leaf, smellin' like a coca leaf
Center of attention, hoe smilin' 'coz they posted

I stay doe boy, doe, doe, doe boy fresh
Yeah, now what it is, boy?
Doe boy, doe, doe, doe boy fresh
Yeah, now what it is, boy?

Doe boy, doe, doe, doe boy fresh
Yeah, now what it is, boy?
Doe boy, doe, doe, doe boy fresh
Yeah, now what it is, boy?

Man, these kids know how I get my grands
Tryna snatch it? Better switch ya plans
Pull a stack out my Dickies pants
And slap a hater with my business hand

Keep a spare for that clip that jams
Money like Mike and a pimp like can
Put some chromes under that big sedan
And I'm pimpin' better than Xzibit can

And then you're impressed of how my hair lookin' Aquafina clear
If you don't like it, come dispute it, do your best to disappear
Yeah, you know what it is, don't call me Chamillionaire
Now the world gotta address me as the 'Hustla of the Year'

I demand some respect, I'm demandin' respect
Or I'm commandin' that canon through that dam, that's the chest
Ain't no hustler or another on the planet as fresh
So when I lift up my royal hand, my pinky ring shake your pecks

I stay doe boy, doe, doe, doe boy fresh
Yeah, now what it is, boy?
Doe boy, doe, doe, doe boy fresh
Yeah, now what it is, boy?

My cars inside peanut butter, outside jelly
Flicker 26 is drankin', drankin' with my celly
We takin' real orders, talkin' coke in that telly
We choppin' up the doe like a butcher in the deli

You know that purple kush leave your clothes all smelly
But if you slangin' pounds, then your pockets should be swelly
I'm ballin' 'til I'm fallin' just like that movie 'Belly'
I'm always stayin' strapped for you niggas that be petty

Toe the 9, 9, 9, on the grind, grind, grind
I shine, shine, shine, jewelry blind, blind, blind
The time, time, time, yes, it's prime, prime, prime
I'm takin' no retracts 'coz it's mine, mine, mine, nigga

I stay doe boy, doe, doe, doe boy fresh
Yeah, now what it is, boy?
Doe boy, doe, doe, doe boy fresh
Yeah, now what it is, boy?

Doe boy, doe, doe, doe boy fresh
Yeah, now what it is, boy?
Doe boy, doe, doe, doe boy fresh
Yeah, now what it is, boy?

I stay fresh, fresh, fresh, fresh
I stay fresh, fresh, fresh
I stay fresh, fresh, fresh, fresh
I stay fresh, fresh, fresh

I stay fresh, fresh, fresh, fresh
I stay fresh, fresh, fresh
I stay fresh, fresh, fresh, fresh

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be989d56f9beb9c83a612a4ebe9de15a

Friday, July 30, 2010

Diggin' The New - Lyrics - Joe Strummer And The Mescaleros

Title: Diggin' The New
Artist: Joe Strummer And The Mescaleros
Composer(s): Thomas Norris, Richard Graham, John Mellor

Lyric:
Yeah, oh, one of those top nights of the year
And I see everyone's here
Oh, took me a long time to get it
But when its taken time
Think and don't forget it

You gotta live in this world, go diggin' the new
Live in this world, boy, tran or girl
Live in this world, oh, get diggin' the new

I can see we're really close to something
It's a feeling so near
But I got no time for the Luddites
Always lookin' back down the track
Saying, "Can you spot one more detail, Jack?"

You gotta live in this world, go diggin' the new
Live in this world, boy, tran or girl
Live in this world, oh, get diggin' the new

Crashing head-on into the future
It won't even leave a dent
Just walk in like you own it
Remember, it ain't set in cement

You gotta live in this world
Live in this world, go diggin' the new
Live in this world, boy, tran or girl
Live in this world, get diggin' the new

Live in this world
You gotta live in this world, go diggin' the new
Live in this world, boy, tran or girl
Live in this world, oh, get diggin' the new

Play the MP3 online for free!
3d46dc81b99640cb624b0732b9b8e17e

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Big Boy Pimpin' - Lyrics - Hated on Mostly - Crime Mob

Title: Big Boy Pimpin'
Album: Hated on Mostly
Artist: Crime Mob
Composer(s): Jonathan Lewis, Venetia Lewis, Alphonce Tyree Smith, Jarques Usher

Lyric:
You big boy pimpin'
(Ay)
You big boy pimpin'
(Ay)

You big boy pimpin'
(Ay)
You big boy pimpin'
(Ay)

You big boy pimpin'
(Ay)
You big boy pimpin'
(Ay)

You big boy pimpin'
(Ay)
You big boy pimpin'
(Ay)

You big boy pimpin'
(Ay)
You big boy pimpin'
(Ay)

You big boy pimpin'
(Ay)
You big boy pimpin'
(Ay)

You big boy pimpin'
(Ay)
You big boy pimpin'
(Ay)

You big boy pimpin'
(Ay)
You big boy pimpin'
(Ay)

If she walk you to your car
(You big boy pimpin')
A neighborhood superstar
(You big boy pimpin')
If you buyin' out the bar
(You big boy pimpin')
And you know you livin' large
(You big boy pimpin')

If she walk you to your car
(You big boy pimpin')
A neighborhood superstar
(You big boy pimpin')
If you buyin' out the bar
(You big boy pimpin')
And you know you livin' large
(You big boy pimpin')

I'm big boy pimpin', yeah I be spendin'
Hundreds and fifties, Lil J got plenty
Pockets be too fat, I be's a cool cat
Can't spend on that ho, I just can't do that

You know I get dough, get some then get mo
I don't buy one drank, I buy a shitload
These bitches need me, they fuck me then feed me
Won't make no housewife, out no goddamn freak

I can be a pimp if I wanna, bossin' these niggas around
Tell they ass to get my money, or somethin's goin' down
I make niggas go crazy, have them callin' me baby
Spendin' their entire paychecks on the regular basis

To get my hair done, nails too, then to need to get some clothes
Don't ask me no questions 'cause you know everything that I say goes
Ain't got no love for niggas and that's how it's gotta be
Pimpin's in my blood for life so hate the game but don't hate me

If she walk you to your car
(You big boy pimpin')
A neighborhood superstar
(You big boy pimpin')
If you buyin' out the bar
(You big boy pimpin')
And you know you livin' large
(You big boy pimpin')

If she walk you to your car
(You big boy pimpin')
A neighborhood superstar
(You big boy pimpin')
If you buyin' out the bar
(You big boy pimpin')
And you know you livin' large
(You big boy pimpin')

I be big boy pimpin' I got run in all my whips
When I mash on the gas I leave tracks like a glimpse
I got broads in every zip I get zips for the low
Pimpin' large, takin' charge, gettin' money from these hoes

Steadily countin' fat rolls, pockets swole, I get ace
Livin' life up to the fullest cus it's money I love to make
Somethin' I gotta say, cus it's in my agenda
Big boy pimpin', summer spring fall and winter 'cause I'm a winner

Big girl pimpin', systems hittin', 20s spinnin' on the lac
My hair stay fixed, the brand new kicks
Dollars be real pockets stay fat 'cause I'm a mack with this pimpin' shit
You know I'm on some other shit

'Cause if it ain't about no money then it ain't makin' no sense
Free trips, on the shopping spree, ballin' ain't nothin to me
Prada, Apple Bottom, Levi, Louis and Gucci
No exception, no excuses, but your ass better pay me
So if you want some of this pimpin' shit come holla at me, baby

If she walk you to your car
(You big boy pimpin')
A neighborhood superstar
(You big boy pimpin')
If you buyin' out the bar
(You big boy pimpin')
And you know you livin' large
(You big boy pimpin')

If she walk you to your car
(You big boy pimpin')
A neighborhood superstar
(You big boy pimpin')
If you buyin' out the bar
(You big boy pimpin')
And you know you livin' large
(You big boy pimpin')

Big boy pimpin' in this thang, with so much game
These hoes keep runnin' on me cus I ain't lame
See shawty fuck the thang, your boy won't change
So many hoes callin' but I don't know they name

'Cause I'm a goddamn pimp, and don't let that be mistaken
They call me M.I.G and all these hoes wanna taste me
I put that giant tootsie roll in they mouth like, "What's shakin'?"
'Cause I'm a big boy pimp and most these niggas be fakin'

If she walk you to your car
(You big boy pimpin')
A neighborhood superstar
(You big boy pimpin')
If you buyin' out the bar
(You big boy pimpin')
And you know you livin' large
(You big boy pimpin')

If she walk you to your car
(You big boy pimpin')
A neighborhood superstar
(You big boy pimpin')
If you buyin' out the bar
(You big boy pimpin')
And you know you livin' large
(You big boy pimpin')

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10a5adc9fa3d6911f918bb6c0b105341

Sunday, August 1, 2010

These Are The Reasons - Lyrics - The Art of Love and War - Angie Stone

Title: These Are The Reasons
Album: The Art of Love and War
Artist: Angie Stone
Composer(s): D Allen, Sal Asab, Shamora Crawford, Derrick Do

Lyric:
Just like a seed that wouldn't grow
Not 'til it had the right home
You were like that for me
You nurtured me, you cared for me

You never would let go
Not 'til you could breathe new life to me
Don't you see what you mean to me? Everything
Where would I be without you?

So many times you could have walked
But you stood by me through it all
Got me through the hurt, baby, you served
Through every broken thing to put me back together

Now all is good with me
I'm more happy than most could be
I'm so gone and that's okay with me
Oh, boy, you make me breathe free

You make the sunshine, you make the rain fall
These are the reasons I love you
Just like the wind blows or how the Nile flows
Baby, I love you, I love you

High as the moon, boy, you've got me flying
And though the seasons they change
You stay the same boy, these are the reasons
Baby, I love you, I love you

Got on my knees real low
Wanna let God know, that I'm so thankful for you
Now and forever, I'll adore you, yeah
I'm crying tears of joy, I'm so in love with you, boy
Praisin' His name for blessings and favor, yeah, yeah

I want you to know that you have changed my whole life
And now I'm trusting like I never did before
Smiling like I never did before
Loving like I never did before and it's all because of you

You make the sunshine, you make the rain fall
These are the reasons I love you
Just like the wind blows or how the Nile flows
Baby, I love you, I love you

High as the moon, boy, you've got me flying
And though the seasons they change
You stay the same boy, these are the reasons
Baby, I love you, I love you, you

Just can't get enough of you
Boy, I'm so in love, tell me what did you do
Got me all messed up, had a scope of belong to you
Why you put it down? [Incomprehensible]

You make the sunshine, you make the rain fall
These are the reasons I love you
Just like the wind blows or how the Nile flows
Baby, I love you, I love you

High as the moon, boy, you've got me flying
And though the seasons they change
You stay the same boy, these are the reasons
Baby, I love you, I love you

You make the sunshine, you make the rain fall
These are the reasons I love you
Just like the wind blows or how the Nile flows
Baby, I love you, I love you

High as the moon, boy, you've got me flying
And though the seasons they change
You stay the same boy, these are the reasons
Baby, I love you, I love you

You make the sunshine, you make the rain fall
These are the reasons I love you
Just like the wind blows or how the Nile flows
Baby, I love you, I love you

High as the moon, boy, you've got me flying
And though the seasons they change
You stay the same boy, these are the reasons
Baby, I love you, I love you

Just like a seed that wouldn't grow
Not 'til it had the right home
You were like that for me
You nurtured me, you cared for me

You never would let go
You never would let go
Go

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8b5a1fbf9a5b883f94ebe5c1bf4f9af8

Friday, July 30, 2010

Cupid Shuffle - Lyrics - Cupid

Title: Cupid Shuffle
Artist: Cupid
Composer(s): Bryson Bernard

Lyric:
New Cupid, time for a change
Cupid shuffle, Cupid shuffle
Cupid shuffle, Cupid shuffle
(New style)

Down, down, do your dance, do your dance
(We got a brand new dance)
Down, down, do your dance, do your dance
Down, down, do your dance, do your dance
Down, down, do your dance, do your dance
(New style, yeah)

They say I'm a rapper and I say no, come on
They say what you doing, tryna do some Zydeco
I just let the music come from my soul
So all of my people can stay on the floor

They got a brand new dance, you gotta move your muscle
Brand new dance, it's called the Cupid shuffle
It don't matter if you're young or you're old, here we go
We gone show you how it go

To the right, to the right, to the right, to the right
To the left, to the left, to the left, to the left
Now kick, now kick, now kick, now kick
Now walk it by yourself, now walk it by yourself
(Let me see you do)

Down, down, do your dance, do your dance
Down, down, do your dance, do your dance
(A let me see ya do the Cupid)
Down, down, do your dance, do your dance
Down, down, do your dance, do your dance, come on

Down, down, do your dance, do your dance
(Let me see, let me see ya do the Cupid)
Down, down, do your dance, do your dance
(Do the shuffle baby yeah)
Down, down, do your dance, do your dance
Down, down, do your dance, do your dance

To the right, to the right, to the right, to the right
To the left, to the left, to the left, to the left
Now kick, now kick, now kick, now kick
Now walk it by yourself, now walk it by yourself

To the right, to the right, to the right, to the right
To the left, to the left, to the left, to the left
Now kick, now kick, now kick, now kick
Now walk it by yourself, now walk it by yourself

Now you see what I'm talking about, oh
I represent for the dirty south
Where we're known for swinging out
I'm gone show you what I'm talking about

Down, down, do your dance, do your dance
Down, down, do your dance, do your dance
(A let me see ya do the Cupid, shuffle the Cupid Cupid shuffle)
Down, down, do your dance, do your dance
Down, down, do your dance, do your dance
(The Cupid shuffle, the Cupid Cupid shuffle)

Down, down, do your dance, do your dance
Down, down, do your dance, do your dance
Down, down, do your dance, do your dance
Down, down, do your dance, do your dance
(Here we go)

To the right, the right, the right, the right, the right
The left, the left, the left, the left, the left
Now kick, now kick, now come on baby kick
Now walk it by yourself, walk it by yourself
(Now walk wit it)

To the right, to the right, to the right, the right, the right
The left, to the left, to the left, the left, the left
Now kick, now kick, now kick, now kick
Now walk it by yourself, walk it by yourself

And do the Cupid shuffle
(Now let me see you do the)
Cupid shuffle
(Now let me see you do the)
It's ya boy Cupid C U P the I the D
Mr. Fat on the track, got another hittin' beat

Down, down, do your dance, do your dance
(Come on, come on)
Down, down, do your dance, do your dance
(Let me see you)

Down, down, do your dance, do your dance
(Do your dance)
Down, down, do your dance, do your dance

(New style)
Down, down, do your dance, do your dance
(We got a brand new dance)
Down, down, do your dance, do your dance
(We got a brand new sound)

(New style)
Down, down, do your dance, do your dance
(We got a brand new feel)
Down, down, do your dance, do your dance
(We got a brand new style y'all)

Play the MP3 online for free!
9399e8b8a83b6cb87a31fbce542242fa

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Akshon (Yeah!) (Madden '04 Remix) - Lyrics - Killer Mike

Title: Akshon (Yeah!) (Madden '04 Remix)
Artist: Killer Mike
Composer(s): Michael Render, Andre Benjamin, Antwan Patton, Archie Hall

Lyric:
Yeah! Killer keeps it honest
Cause reality is perception with a weak stomach
Bubbling uneasy like the bowels of hell
(Boo!)
Enough to make a black ghost turn pale

Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!

K I L L
This is the name that came to alter the game
Not like these rappers who spit it the same
Separate lames from they chain

My mind don't slack
I'm totally focused on beating up tracks
Monstrous music to beat in your 'Lac
1000 watt amp with woofers in back
Lean to da left if you burning a sac
Baby got back and its in Baby Phat

Pardon me dog for chasing the cat
I'm hittin' all kittens meowing like that
I like the front but I'm loving the back
I like to bite and I'm hoping she scratch
Escalade dipping I'm holding the lane
Mama's a scholar she blowing my brain

Ain't the the life?
Snapping and trappin' and rappin' and frappin' all night
Lil mama's a plumber she handling pipe
I'll wit a pill she handle it right
Like Iverson, the smallest thing on the team
But the livest one
Cocked loaded bust like a gun
Y'all better run, one, one!

Thump, thump, thump, thump yeah
All in your trunk yeah
Grinding and hustling and getting at mine
Swerving and token and grippin' on pine
Bump, bump, bump, bump
All in your trunk
Woofers and tweeters and speakers and geekers
Crawl in your bunk

How we gon' stop
How we gone quit shit!
Brand new shoes and socks on the Chevy
I came through swerving like this
Good wit the game, gutter fo' show
Ducking you lames and obstacles
Don't get that ass in a hospital
Wrapped in a cast from head to toe

This boy he real!
Racing those candy Sevilles through Dixie Hills
My car do wheelies they drive on three wheels
First round pick like Michael Vick
Quarterback status throw passes at chicks
Santana Moss When catching the ball
Get it? Like Moss she catches the ball
Perfectly tuned my engine don't stall
And I'm equipped with nitros y'all

Ready to rip, burn, roar!
Ready to tear through your city and tour
Took The Whole World and murdered that shit!
Caught the beat running and dipped with that bitch!
Later for now I'm hustling hits
Flipping my words like bricks, trick!

Thump, thump, thump, thump yeah
All in your trunk yeah
Grinding and hustling and getting at mine
Swerving and token and grippin' on pine
Bump, bump, bump, bump
All in your trunk
Woofers and tweeters and speakers and geekers
Crawl in your bunk

New, new! That new new!
New new for you you!
New new for you you!
That new new! That new new!
New new for you you!
New new for you you!
That new new! That new new!
New new for you you!
New new for you you!
That new new! That new new!
New new for you you!
New new for you you!

Play the MP3 online for free!
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