The Hit - Lyrics - Power Of The Dollar - 50 Cent

Title: The Hit
Album: Power Of The Dollar
Artist: 50 Cent
Composer(s): Keith Everette Horne, Curtis James Jackson

Lyric:
Uh uh uh uh uh uh

I change places to prevent catchin' the cases
Races in the faces, hall at you laces
This is a hit, let's see if homicide trace this

The only thing hotter than my flow is the block, inhale and exhale
That's why I left this snow biz and got into show biz
Let's get this clear, it ain't on 'til I say it's on, pause, it's on
I'm eatin', y'all niggas fastin' like it's Rimadon

Bowlish way in Lebanon, know 50 the bomb
I be at the edge of the bar, sippin' a Don
I keep the bottle just in case, you never know when it's on
This worries bump, I can't go wrong, my team's too strong

You want war? I take you to war, now that my money long
Why you broke? Cat's buy the by lines and fantasize
The way I'm spittin', put TV's in everything I'm sittin'
While I'm hot to death, I'm gonna say this to all you playa haters
Y'all should hate the game, not the playas, c'mon

I change places to prevent catchin' the cases
Races in the faces, hall at you laces
This is a hit, let's see if homicide trace this
50 Cent, let's see if homicide trace this

I change places to prevent catchin' the cases
Races in the faces, hall at you laces
This is a hit, let's see if homicide trace this
50 Cent, let's see if homicide trace this

Everyday is bugged, niggas'll come to a club
To try to show you they a thug, instead of showing some love
Now, what you think you chump me, if I let you bump me
When I'm about to make a mill, faster than you make a G, ha ha

I know I lie, it's a habit, I vow to clean the city like the mayor
And in the crack game, I'm a franchise player
Niggas be thinkin' I be out to lunch with mines
Then in crunch time, I start hittin' 'em hard with punch lines

You cats got to be sick to think 50 can't spit
Better check my batting average, I always make hits
My flows leave these rap cats ketro, ketro all across the metro, metro
Plus I pack a cannon, up under my marple cannon

They fake, they look like money but ain't worth half the cake
Have me runnin' from Jake, in a GS with bad brakes
They want to knock me take for Christ sakes

50 Cent, let's see if homicide trace this
I change places to prevent catchin' the cases
Races in the faces, hall at you laces
This is a hit, let's see if homicide trace this
50 Cent, let's see if homicide trace this

I change places to prevent catchin' the cases
Races in the faces, hall at you laces
This is a hit, let's see if homicide trace this
50 Cent, let's see if homicide trace this

Yo son, remember them fake playas
Who try to play us at The Shark Club in Vegas
Had them tight linen blazers and beat up gators
Lookin' like last year's playas, pause

Yeah, I could tell they dough was low
When we came through the do'
I copped a case of Cristal and copped one bottle of Mo
From the looking through face and the bulge in his waist, he holdin'

Yeah he's packin', I can see his rack
The one in the middle, he a big man, I dealt with him son
Yeah, so I expect look like they ain't had a run since ' 81
They ain't here on a hunt for food

So they could catch you, some cash and expensive jewels
I'm gonna crash 'em with this bottle if he move
I ain't the one son, my shit ain't come easy
It won't go easy, believe me

I change places to prevent catchin' the cases
Races in the faces, hall at you laces
This is a hit, let's see if homicide trace this
50 Cent, let's see if homicide trace this

I change places to prevent catchin' the cases
Races in the faces, hall at you laces
This is a hit, let's see if homicide trace this
50 Cent, let's see if homicide trace this

I change places to prevent catchin' the cases
Races in the faces, hall at you laces
This is a hit, let's see if homicide trace this
50 Cent, let's see if homicide trace this

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37fa8786f5cd25ff32f6b86dfe3e52f2

For My Gangstaz - Lyrics - Untold Story Volume II - Game

Title: For My Gangstaz
Album: Untold Story Volume II
Artist: Game
Composer(s): Joseph Tom, Jayceon Taylor

Lyric:
Livin' in Compton, California CA
Livin' in Compton, California CA
Charlie O, drop that hot shit

Motherfucker it's the game, mister tint the windows wit'cha brain
Since a young'n up and comin', all I did was cop 'caine
They try and change the game, nigga I still cop 'caine
I ain't moved out the hood, still stay where the cops came

Bitches tryin' to throw salt in my name
Barbers tryin' to part my game, niggaz, tryin' to chalk my frame
But I walk on a thin line without scuffin' my Chucks
Bad Boy and I fuck with Puff, so bring the guns if you want, nigga
I'm real good with the glock and 50 G's say, you leave in a box

When I fuck, Lil' Kim guess, I'm feelin' like 'Pac
Niggaz wanna wrestle the game, guess, they feel like The Rock
It doesn't matter, 745 up and down your block
Hop out with a Nextel, niggaz feel like they shot
It's different in my hood, only time we take shots
Is when the Dodgers did good, my niggaz live on the block

This is for the gangster in me
This is for the gangster in you
All my gangsters pour the brew
This is for the gangster in me
This is for the gangster in you
All my gangsters red and blue

I'm worldwide with this gangsta lean, my life's no dream
I got a crew in Jamaica, Queens
Lake Charles up to New Orleans in D.C. I sip
My thugs get crunk off Lil' Flip
State to state many shows I rip, I'm the boss of the Bay
Like Clint Eastwood, make my day

Fine bitches look like Lisa Raye, plot on gettin' paid
In the end, all they get is played, maybe a nut, no Ice Capade
Real dudes is shiesty, I only give jewels to wifey
And I don't give a fuck if you really don't like me

It's in my blood to thug, get ill and hyphy
One of the best I might be, it really don't matter
When I bust, sucker MC's scatter, gettin' out of my way
I bust bad bitches night and day, I make classics like Dr. Dre
Closed casket from rhymes, I say

This is for the gangster in me
This is for the gangster in you
All my gangsters pour the brew
This is for the gangster in me
This is for the gangster in you
All my gangsters red and blue

Gon' move in on your rock, say fuck the crisis
And ride with the West we got lower coat prices
You know me the king of L.A., New York
Drivin' through Brooklyn in a fo', same color as water
You want X? I can cover the order

Ninety four been hustlin' now watch the shit elevate like Vince Carter
Not the rap martyr or the second rap Carter
Compton's own, I'm home, not the best I just rap harder
Heir to the throne, nobody rep Compton like me
Street spinnin' like waves on that Continental T
My grand moms woulda been proud of me

Look at your grandson now, 'til my demis, Black Mafia ties
So it's hard to let the larcent die, my [incomprehensible] treys
A killer changin' the game like them Marcy guys
And I been compared to Shyne like Shyne was compared to Biggie
I'm from Compton, he from New York City, come on, really?

This is for the gangster in me
This is for the gangster in you
All my gangsters pour the brew
This is for the gangster in me
This is for the gangster in you
All my gangsters red and blue

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e866cdcfdd16ca552fe1ab78ca266f40

This Is 50 - Lyrics - Massacre - 50 Cent

Title: This Is 50
Album: Massacre
Artist: 50 Cent
Composer(s): Curtis Jackson, Robert Brandon Smith, Michael J Clervoix

Lyric:
This is 50

I don't know what you take me for
I really don't play that shit
I ain't got to get you hit
I get out myself and spray that shit

I got a itchy itchy trigger finger, nigga it's killin' me
Not to spray that shit
I got enough ammo shots to blow I up a hole
In every mothafucka out this bitch

I unload then reload, when you get hit I supposed
You gon' be strong enough to take this shit
I'm in the hood ridin' 'round with a chrome fo' pound
Can you see through the windows see tints

I do dirt, the gat bust, get to kickin' up dust
'Fore the jakes come around here kid
Niggas get knocked if D's start askin' question
My name end up in all types of shit

I be a gangsta, a nigga till I die fo' sho'
Whether I'm poor or I'm filthy rich
Now what you know about movin' that Peruvian Flavor that cake
I get rid of them bricks

I don't know what you take me for
I really play that shit
I ain't got to get you hit
I get out myself and spray that shit

I don't know what you take me for
I really don't play that shit
I ain't got to get you hit
I get out myself and spray that shit

Man I gotta have shoes, you know chrome 22's
Every time I get a brand new whip
I rolled around in a 5, till my money got racked
Then I went back and got that six

I'm in a big white Benz, on a hot sunny day
I call it 'the milk truck' and shit
I have ya hoe, eyeballin' at the light, damn pimpin'
You should take time to check that bitch

You saw me ridin' through the hood, actin' like its all good
But I'm lookin' for jooks and shit
In the middle of the night, you can turn on ya lights
And find me and my niggas in ya crib

Nigga holla if there's a problem, and your niggas got drama
I got burners for sell and shit
Got the macs, got the nines, got them tecks all the time
Holo-tips and them extra clips

I don't know what you take me for
I really play that shit
I ain't got to get you hit
I get out myself and spray that shit

I don't know what you take me for
I really don't play that shit
I ain't got to get you hit
I get out myself and spray that shit

Man, I'm tired of tellin' niggas over and over
Everything about me be gangsta
Man, I'm tired of tellin' niggas over and over
I won't hesitate to pop or shank ya

Man, I'm tired of tellin' niggas over and over
They can hustle and I'm in your shit
Man, I'm tired of tellin' niggas over and over
You don't listen you gon' get ya ass hit

This is 50, yeah
Nigga cherish me
Like the water you drink
Like the air you breathe
You need me to live
Yeah

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24c4a7ae48d027d07f9c7cbcd8566f2a

Ryder Music - Lyrics - Massacre - 50 Cent

Title: Ryder Music
Album: Massacre
Artist: 50 Cent
Composer(s): Tony L Cottrell, Curtis Jackson

Lyric:
Yeah
Yeah, we can ride to this
Just lay back, crew

Here's a taste of my life, it's bitter and sweet
I put my heart out to the sounds of the drums and the beat
I put my life on the line when I'm out on the street
Put my Teflon on and roll with my heat

I keep my circle nice and small, I don't **** with these clown *****s
In a race for the cheese, I run laps around *****s
Soon as I step on stage, the crowd applauds
Soon as my sneaker wear in stores, Reebok start sore

I ain't gotta say I'm a boss, *****s can tell
The east coast crib, the size of a small hotel
The **** journalist write about me, get me confused
Have me feelin' like the heavy weight champ when he lose

I read somewhere, I'm homophobic ****
Go through the hood, there's mad *****s on my ****
Now we can get hostile or we can do this smooth
T&T around, I can still make blow move

This is what you call Ryder music
All the gangstas are ridin' to it, come on, let's roll
I can show ya how we do it
When we ride to that Ryder music, let's go, let's go

This is what you call Ryder music
All the gangstas are ridin' to it, come on, let's roll
I can show ya how we do it
When we ride to that Ryder music, let's go, let's go

Last year, I woke up, a good look, damn it feels good
On the low, I done ****** half of Hollywood
Had your favorite actress from your favorite shows
In my favorite ********, you know how it goes

In my Bentley bumpin' Prince ****, "This is when Thugs cry"
This is what it sounds like when ****** *** ***** fly
Homie, this is somethin' you can ride and smoke to
Stay on point, 'cause *****s will ride and smoke you

Jealousy's for women, but some *****s is ***** made
They make you wanna run across they're head with a switch *****
They point their finger at me, sayin' I'm bug
My flows ***** you listen, your ******* brains on *****

Look, ice drippin' on my neck, hands grippin' on the ***
Fool trippin' through the set, you can get ya *** whipped
Cards missin' out my deck, screws loose show respect
You try to come at me kid, your *** better come correct

This is what you call Ryder music
All the gangstas are ridin' to it, come on, let's roll
I can show ya how we do it
When we ride to that Ryder music, let's go, let's go

This is what you call Ryder music
All the gangstas are ridin' to it, come on, let's roll
I can show ya how we do it
When we ride to that Ryder music, let's go, let's go

My mama gave birth to a winner, I gotta win
Pray to Lord, forgive me for my sins
Still thuggin', cruisin', rims gleamin' like the stones on my wrist
Zonin', guess this is how it feels to be rich

Homie, you hustlin' backwards if you chasin' a *****
Stupid, chase the paper, they come with the ****
I'm fallin', in love with success
Entrepeneure, kinda sewer, I maneuver the best

Rowin', ruger on my lap, rubber grip on the handle
Stunt I'll have ya homies burn a rest in peace candle
As wise men speak, I listen and learn
A man dies, a baby's born, my *****s the world turns

Rappers, I make 'em sick when I say I'm the ****
They mistake my confidence for arrogance, they hate on the kid
In '99, I had a vision and made a decision
Bein' broke is against my religion, now picked up

This is what you call Ryder music
All the gangstas are ridin' to it, come on, let's roll
I can show ya how we do it
When we ride to that Ryder music, let's go, let's go

This is what you call Ryder music
All the gangstas are ridin' to it, come on, let's roll
I can show ya how we do it
When we ride to that Ryder music, let's go, let's go

This is what you call Ryder music
All the gangstas are ridin' to it, come on, let's roll
I can show ya how we do it
When we ride to that Ryder music, let's go, let's go

This is what you call Ryder music
All the gangstas are ridin' to it, come on, let's roll
I can show ya how we do it
When we ride to that Ryder music, let's go, let's go

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53427b9003bdca55bfdce65157f6e404

This Is How We Do - Lyrics - 50 Cent

Title: This Is How We Do
Artist: 50 Cent
Composer(s): Russell Deyo, Michael Elizondo, Duane Hughes, Curtis Jackson, Vaughan Carrington Mason, Jayceon Taylor, Andre Young

Lyric:
This is how we do
We make a move and act a fool
While we up in the club
This is how we do
Nobody do it like we do it
So show us some love

Fresh like, uhh, Impala, unnh
Crome hyrdolics, 808 drums
You don't want, none, nigga betta, run
When beef is on, I'll pop that, drum

Come get, some, pistol grip, pump
If a nigga steps on my white Air, Ones
Since red, rum, ready here I, come
Compton, unh, Dre found me in the, slums

Sellin' that skunk, one hand on my gun
I was sellin' rocks when Master P was sayin', "Unnh"
Buck pass tha blunt
These G-Unit girls just wanna have, fun

Coke and rum, got weed on the ton
I'm bangin' with my hand up her dress like, unh
I'll make her cum, purple haze in my lungs
Whole gang in the front in case a nigga pull a stunt

I put Lamborghini doors on that Es-co-lade
Low pro so look like I'm riding on blades
In one year mang, a nigga's so paid
I have a straight bitch in the telly goin' both ways
(Ah)

Touch me, tease me, kiss me, please me
I give it to ya just how you like it, girl
You know I'm rockin' with the best tre pound on my hip
Teflon on my chest, they say I'm no good 'cuz I'm so hood

Rich folks do not want me around
'Cuz shit might pop off and if shit pop off
Somebody gon' get laid the fuck out

They call me new money, say I have no class
I'm from the bottom, I came up too fast
The hell if I care, I'm just here to get my cash
Bougie ass bitches, you can kiss my ass

This is how we do
We make a move and act a fool
While we up in the club
This is how we do
Nobody do it like we do it
So show us some love

I put gold Daytonas on that Cherry Six-Four
White walls so clean it's like I'm ridin' on bulbs
Hit one switch mang, that ass so low
Cali got niggaz in New York ridin' on hundred spokes

Touch me, tease me, kiss me, please me
I give it to ya just how you like it, girl
You know I'm rockin' with the best fo' pound on my hip
Gold chain on my chest
(Ah)

50, unh, Bentley, unh
'Em came 'n gotta nigga fresh out the, slum
Automatic, gun, fuck 'em one-on-one
We wrap up ya punk ass, stunt 'n ya done
Homie, it's Game time

You ready? Here I come
Call Lloyd Banks
And get this motherfucker, cunt
It took two, months but 50 got it done

Signed with G-unit
Had niggaz like, "Huh?"
Don't try to front
I'll leave yo' ass slumped
Thinkin' I'm a punk
Get your fuckin' head lumped
Fifty got a gun

Ready here he come, gotta sick, vendetta
To get this, chedda, meet my Ba, Retta
The drama, setta, sip Ama, retta
My flow sounds, betta than average

On tracks I'm a savage, I damage
Any nigga tryin' to front on my clique
(G-Unit)

Jayne B loves youssef R4 Eva 2005

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6510d53c4fbf8119924fcf2ca2fac090

Ain'T No Click - Lyrics - The Hunger for More - Lloyd Banks

Title: Ain'T No Click
Album: The Hunger for More
Artist: Lloyd Banks
Composer(s): M. Bernard, Kejuan W Muchita, C. Lloyd

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

Lyric:
Yeah nigga fuckin' back hunger for more
Tony's home yo Banks I told these niggas man
Y'all done fucked up now
Here we go

Ain't no click like the one I'm with
If the drama gets thick it's the guns I get
G unit niggas is runnin' this shit
If you ain't reppin' where you from this is

We gettin' doe everywhere we go
And it's killin' 'em slow just to hear me blow
G unit niggas is runnin' this shit
If you ain't reppin' where you from sit down

By now I know you done seen me
On your stadium or TV with three eighty on the E.V
I skeet babies on your breezy and I ain't stoppin'
Only Jake the Jacob could freeze me

Leaves me and it's bye, bye gone
We got guns like Popeye arms
I put a ring on their finger but the rats still askin'
'Coz there's one in all they mind I'm the Rap Phil Jackson and

I built a rep for murderin' every Whoo Kid
Kayslay and Big Mike admit it the kid tight
And you ain't even put up a fight
So it's back to da amatures wrapped in ya sandwiches

I'm hot now so the rats wanna stand with us
They hop in the van with us and clap on cameras
I hit the clubs now I'm back tourin' Canadas
Amongst weed smokers and crap floor gamblers

Ain't no click like the one I'm with
If the drama gets thick it's the guns I get
G unit niggas is runnin' this shit
If you ain't reppin' where you from this is

We gettin' doe everywhere we go
And it's killin' 'em slow just to hear me blow
G unit niggas is runnin' this shit
If you ain't reppin' where you from sit down

Make sure the birds don't get brought to 'em
I watched Kobe go from the basketball court to the courtroom
Go ahead try to do me harm soldier
You'll be in a black bag like grass out the lawnmower

And I'll be damn if I co-sign a old snitch
That was gang bangin' when jaws was a goldfish
I'm the name they all screamin' on the street
For bullyin' the bassline and leanin' on the beat

I'm well known now so you see me on the creeps
Schemin' on a freak fan blade leanin' on a jeep
Ain't walkin' with the fire so if you say Banks in ya verse
Then you better be talkin' bout Tyra

From PA to LA, Atlanta to Texas
Nashville to Memphis my buzz is tremendous
I pass through the city slow but the hit the gas on the silly hoe
Dumps like ass in my video

Ain't no click like the one I'm with
If the drama gets thick it's the guns I get
G unit niggas is runnin' this shit
If you ain't reppin' where you from this is

We gettin' doe everywhere we go
And it's killin' 'em slow just to hear me blow
G unit niggas is runnin' this shit
If you ain't reppin' where you from sit down

A'yo, uno, duexo, troiso, quatreo
My clique eat like the 12 holy apostles
And bust down models in flushed out tahoes
Jewels froze look like we hit the lotto

P89 my clique filled wit hollows
Stun in the club get hit with yellow bottles
Don't speak ma if your neck don't swallow
'Coz 50 push Bentleys and Dre push Diablos

That Eminem money got cash in my eskro
Screws Mcduck say swimmin' in my cash flow
Yay rappers cracked man I got the best blow
Best flow Banks put me in the booth let's go

Think like castro the games in a lasso
Don't jump in the Benz without steps on the petro
God gave me this flow so I am special
And 16 bars nigga I'm finished Finito

Ain't no click like the one I'm with
If the drama gets thick it's the guns I get
G unit niggas is runnin' this shit
If you ain't reppin' where you from this is

We gettin' doe everywhere we go
And it's killin' 'em slow just to hear me blow
G unit niggas is runnin' this shit
If you ain't reppin' where you from sit down

We told y'all muthafuckaz man
Y'all niggaz look like us and smell like us
But you're not us man
Lloyd Banks, hunger for fore we back nigga
50 the general Young dezzy Buck
Game the rap game is ours nigga
Hunger for more Rider music nigga
This for them Gangsta them generals them comrades
This is Rida music

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6a4886018ad397c0ceb9f444c5d70164

40 - To Whom This May Concern - Lyrics - E

Title: 40 - To Whom This May Concern
Artist: E
Composer(s): Anthony Ransom, Earl Thomas Stevens

Lyric:
Shit, if the shoe fit,
Wear it, fuck it, bitch

To whom this may concern
All you rappers with all that fetti to burn
The industry is finicky, so let me make this clear
They'll have a new nigga next year

To whom this may concern
All you rappers with all that fetti to burn
The industry is finicky, so let me make this clear
They'll have a new nigga next year

I know you're shinin' like a light
I know your record sales, is politics and hype
I know you're boohoo'n
'Cause none of your royalty statements
Never had a check attached to 'em

Famous but unrecoupedm, circumstances predicated on
Large ass video budgets and takin' out advancements
Uhh, March and September, that's quite a ways, 40, 40?
Oh, he get paid every thirty days, shorty

Uhh, I ain't no lame
I'm different from y'all, I come from the game
From the game, I ain't gotta explain
I been hella raw, I been spittin' game

I seen you on the Billboard
I saw you when you got that MTV Award
Uh, number one on SoundScan
Congratulations playa, dude, can I shake yo' hand?

Oh, you don't wanna shake my hand, now you too good now?
Oh, it's like that you 'sidin on yo' folks now?
Enjoy it while you're here
They'll have a new nigga next year

To whom this may concern
All you rappers with all that fetti to burn
The industry is finicky, so let me make this clear
They'll have a new nigga next year

To whom this may concern
All you rappers with all that fetti to burn
The industry is finicky, so let me make this clear
They'll have a new nigga next year

Uhh, air play, program directors from the Bay
Don't support they rappers in the Yea
They figure we ain'ts real hip hop
They lookin' for some mainstream flip flop

But I ain't finsta sit down
Sit down and wait for this shit to come back around
Shit, I just like to perk, whatchu like to do?
I like to get out there and network

Charlie Hustle fall off? I doubt it
Shit, when niggaz stop talkin' about me
That's when I'm gon' worry about it
And if they do, I'ma take the independent road
A hundred thousand units on the underground
Playboy, that's ghetto gold

Never breakin' a sweat
Slangin' albums from the Internet
Ain't nuttin' but respect here
They'll have a new nigga next year

To whom this may concern
All you rappers with all that fetti to burn
The industry is finicky, so let me make this clear
They'll have a new nigga next year

To whom this may concern
All you rappers with all that fetti to burn
The industry is finicky, so let me make this clear
They'll have a new nigga next year

My loyal fans wanna know why it's so noticeable
And how come none of E-40 lyrics
Ain't never been in The Source 'Hip-Hop Quotable'?
To tell the truth it's kinda irkin' me 'cause I don't know

I ain't rappin' too fast, see y'all just listenin' too slow
You can ask 'Zomba', I'm about a thousand songs deep
Spittin' ghetto anthems that I done had
I shoulda been ran out of heat

I had to prove myself first
I didn't get my record deal based on a sixteen measure verse
Uhh, damn right and ever since dude 'Pac passed away
The West coast ain't been eatin' right

If he was alive, I'd ask him for his opinionation
And if he was me, what would he do in this sort of situation
Would he take off on these journalists, tell me what you think?
For assassinatin' motherfuckers characters with all that bad ink?

How they gonna have me Top 50, number forty-three?
I'm a hog, shit, that's why I don't fuck with Blaze
I fuck with Murder Dog

To whom this may concern
All you rappers with all that fetti to burn
The industry is finicky, so let me make this clear
They'll have a new nigga next year

To whom this may concern
All you rappers with all that fetti to burn
The industry is finicky, so let me make this clear
They'll have a new nigga next year

To whom this may concern
All you rappers with all that fetti to burn
The industry is finicky, so let me make this clear
They'll have a new nigga next year

To whom this may concern
All you rappers with all that fetti to burn
The industry is finicky, so let me make this clear
They'll have a new nigga next year

Bitch, see what I'm sayin'? This shit is finicky
It's a fool out there, ya dum dums
Smell this nigga?
Charlie Hustle, millenium ballers nigga, bitch
Thought you thoughtamajig, hoe

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8497dd7e557694a851033395dc5775e3

You Don'T Know - Lyrics - The Re-Up - Eminem

Title: You Don'T Know
Album: The Re-Up
Artist: Eminem
Composer(s): Ramone Johnson, Luis Resto, Curtis Jackson, Christopher Lloyd, Marshall Mathers

Lyric:
Shady!
Yeah

Who run it?
You know, you actin' like you don't know
We run it
You know but you actin' like you don't know
Who run it?
You know, you actin' like you don't know
We run it
You know but you actin' like you don't know

You know, you actin' like you don't know
I tear the club up fo' sho'
This flow is gon' bring more dough
And you know but you actin' like you don't know

Now homie I say I run it, run it 'cause I'm in control
Hypnotiq, Hennessey, a couple shots of Patron
I have you feelin' aight, I get you **** as a kite
Party poppin' shawty says she comin' with me tonight

I ain't shoulder leanin', I ain't snappin' and poppin'
Either I'm bobbin' ma head or I'm just standin' there watchin'
I'm a hustler I hustle, you can tell that I'm paid
And I protect what I got, I'm in the house with my *****

Homie you front you gon' get it, okay now maybe I civic
'Cause I want you to trip it, yeah, I be on that sh**-t
You should see when I'm stuntin', I flash the stones they be wantin'
**** see me rollin', you can tell that I'm holdin'

I'm just doin' ma thang, you know the Units the game
I got my grimy Shady with me you front you'll have to get me
Off your ***, I pay the lawsuit and laugh
It's not a big deal it's nothing but some cash, let's go

Who run it?
You know, you actin' like you don't know
I tear the club up fo' sho'
This flow is gon' bring more dough
And you know but you actin like you don't know

Who run it?
You know, you actin' like you don't know
I tear the club up fo' sho'
This flow is gon' bring more dough
And you know but you actin' like you don't know

When me and Fif 'got together to do this music
The more we became enveloped
We just developed a fellowship through it
It's no pretend ****, it's friendship, mi nemesis is su nemesis
Ain't for him, it's just media, see to them it's just images

But this **** is no gimmicks, this is blood in and blood out
When there's beef you jus' gotta know when to butt in and butt out
If there's a problem we solve it, if we don't resolve it
It usually just evolves into one big brawl and we all get involved in it

We should all get a merit, this much beef we inherit
And wear it like a badge of honor, pass it around and share it
And let it go to whoever's holdin' the most current people
On their shoulders and their soldiers got their backs 'til it's over

But tonight, we ain't comin' here to beef with nobody
We came to party, Banks, Cashis and Mr. Ferrari
So it's Shady Aftermizat, backin' that ***, you ********
Come hizzon, what kinda ******* quizition is that?

Who run it?
You know, you actin' like you don't know
I tear the club up fo' sho'
This flow is gon' bring more dough
And you know but you actin' like you don't know

Who run it?
I say you know, you actin' like you don't know
I tear the club up fo' sho'
This flow is gon' bring more dough
And you know but you actin' like you don't know

****** **** ricochet, Cashis wick-a-way
Slumped over, they gon? say, similar to J.F.K
O.C. come and test my way
I'ma ride to the death, do you rep that way?

Forever I'ma be a Shady 7-4 gangsta
Homie I?ll survive everything you got in that ch*****
I thrive off of danger, jumpin' in all beef
You keep talking sh** now the squad called me

Enough holdin' back the steam, Em' let off a magazine
Dappadon Cappa queen mixed in with Cashis creams
Started off with half a dream, developed into what you see
Telling ain't my cup of tea, can't tell I'm a f****** G?

I'm on automatic when I'm at it, start static
And you splattered, shattered, I'm a walkin' chick magnet
Spit it how I live it, live it all the way to the limit
And I'm always on my pivot for my digits, you dig it?

Who run it?
You know, you actin' like you don't know
I tear the club up fo' sho'
This flow is gon' bring more dough
And you know but you actin' like you don't know

Who run it?
You know, you actin' like you don't know
I tear the club up fo' sho'
This flow is gon' bring more dough
And you know but you actin' like you don't know
Who run it?

You know who this is
Shady, G-Unit, Aftermath
Lloyd Bands, Cashis
Marshall Mathers, Ferrari F-50
It's a movement, you can't stop it
Talk of New York, Tony Yayo

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965806e091d91fcabc49142712413814

Leo - Lyrics - Pain Is Love - Ja Rule

Title: Leo
Album: Pain Is Love
Artist: Ja Rule
Composer(s): Jeffrey Atkins, Irving Lorenzo

Lyric:
This is Leo! And I?m the cousin of the bitch
That don?t know what the fuck she talkin' about!
I am the real psychic man! Next caller
Hello Miss Leo my boyfriend is in jail and
I wanna know when he is a comin' out

Ok, I know, he will be he, your boyfriend
Hold on the cards never lie
Tarot readin' and I am psychic and I am Leo and
I know when your boyfriend will be home
Hold on I will tell you the charge is 50 dollar a
Minute are you cool with that?
You cool wit okay then hold on your gonna hold on for
15 minute hold on hold on okay hold 15 minute hold on
Next caller

Yes mum, I wanna know if uh
My mummy is have affair with my boyfriend
Oh! Now see girl, this is a very difficult one for me to read
Because, I see, I see darkness in your future
I see, now, now is your mother a whore?
Yeas

Now see dis dis is what they talk
Dis is what the cards say dis is what me taught
Dis is what me taught
Now uh, does your momma, uhh,
Hold on let meet this one together, hold on
It?s a 50 dollar charge fee, a minute. are you cool with dat?
Okay you cool wit dat? Okay
Den you hold on too 10 minute hold on for you hold down

Caller, who on the Line? Ajuya
Ajuya, what the hell you want?
I was just at the clinic and I?m curious to know
Hold on! You want to know who the baby?s daddy is, am I right?
Oh my God!
See! that what we know, the cards never lie, it?s all in
The tarot readin'!
Now, now, I see, I see in the cards, I see a, a tall one, a tall
One, he has, he has short feet yes

Okay, and now I see a fat one now the fat one he?s poor
He?s rather poor, he's broke? Is the fat one broke?
Michael! yes
His name uh, now see girl, my cards say that his name is
Fred, his name
Not Michael it?s Fred
How do you know that?
See he been lying to yo girl yes the fat one been lying to you
So you know what this leads me to believe?

It was the other one you were fucking with, the
The other one it was neither one of them
It was the other one girl now, if you?d
Like to know anything else, your gonna have to hold on

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07adc3098fcc90a00d0db9ea174924a7

Funeral Music - Lyrics - 50 Cent

Title: Funeral Music
Artist: 50 Cent
Composer(s): Keyon Karim Harrold, Curtis James Jackson

Lyric:
The business is entertainment
And what entertain the customers is the sight of blood
Cam, I mean, I was bein' nice to him, okay, I'll get him

You *** should worship the ground I walk on
I make mills off the tracks I talk on, it's kingpin
50, don't call me, ***, I don't wanna talk it out
The *** will hit your leg, go on and walk it out

I see it clear, you tryin' to sabotage Jimmy
See what happens when you talk after sippin' the Henny?
I'll send Haitian *** at you, yeah, sak pase
Zoe pound ***, they don't play

Buck *** *** on camera and it's okay
'Cause my money make my lawyers make the *** go away
Attempted ***, get a year on probation
Cam, are you clear what you facin'?

You must ain't hear me, I done told you, I'm a boss
I'm eatin' good but I ain't chubby like Ricky Ross
Word on the street is that 50's not Jay
And Cam better stay out of his way

Everything's cooler than a fan till you rolled on
Have you in the I.C.U., tryin' to hold on
*** in the waitin' room, been waitin' so long
Till they hear the flat line, the doc say, he's gone, he's gone
That's *** up
When they say he's gone
He dead

Well, he knew that could happen, *** with the kid
This is graveyard music right here, ya dig?
This is not competition, this is ***
Career endin', mind bendin', Southside, ya finished

Now look, *** laughin' at Cam, down on Lennox
They heard what he did but they don't know why he did it
I have eighty of them boys with black flags
Come through with black ***
And have you *** zipped up in black bags

For a second he was hot, now he cold
I apply pressure on *** until they fold
But never mind me, man, that's just how I be
The game got me trained, they call me the hustle man

And like fame, my style will live forever
They thought I crossover 'cause they don't know no better
I think they think I'm laxed now 'cause I got the cheddar
Till I return back ***, trust me, it's nothin'

Everything's cooler than a fan till you rolled on
Have you in the I.C.U., tryin' to hold on
*** in the waitin' room, been waitin' so long
Till they hear the flat line, the doc say, he's gone, he's gone
When they say he's gone
It shouldn't have to be like this, man

Dipset, Cam, stay up, I'm not gonna destroy Dipset
Just gotta make changes, from now on, Jimmy's the boss of Dipset
And Juelz is the capo, he's gone
Cam's demoted to soldier, we like Jimmy better anyway

Ballin', come on, man
What's the last Cam joint you liked?
Computers computin', boogity, boobity, he's gone
Cameron, you better learn how to talk to me, oh

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04971d7563f472af86656d4546f45563

Built This City - Lyrics - Diplomatic Immunity - Diplomats

Title: Built This City
Album: Diplomatic Immunity
Artist: Diplomats
Composer(s): Cameron Giles, L James, Joseph A. Jones, Dennis Lambert, Martin George Page, Justin Gregory Smith, Bernie Taupin, Peter Wolf

Lyric:
We built this city, we built this city
We built this city, we built this city on rock

We built this city
(On these blocks we hustle)
We built this city on rock
(On rock)
We built this city
(Turn bricks to whips)
We built this city on rock and roll
(On rock)

We built this city
(In the midst of the struggle)
We built this city on rock
(On rock)
We built this city
(From bottom to top)
We built this city
(Through the agony and pain, diplomatic will reign)

Ay yo, my dipset Taliban
We on these streets like the wars on them streets of Afghanistan
Better yet of Pakistan to America, Harlem's our cater
Any problems I spray her that can startle the mayor

But in this 50-block radius let's get the rock and shave the shit
Or get the glock and blaze the shit
Bitches get the cock and savor it
They say Jim Jones the capo my favorite

'Cause some of this shit my city wasn't built up over
Drugs and money, some shit you get killed up over
Slumped on your wheel, straight tilt it over
Trust me dogs, I seen it in peril, niggaz wasted and painted
And seen on the mural
(That's Harlem)

In this apple of mine is rhyme, clap up your shines
Pop shots that will crack up your minds
And cop rocks and cook that crack up to dimes
New York City, the capital of crime

We built this city
(On these blocks we hustle)
We built this city on rock
(On rock)
We built this city
(Turn bricks to whips)
We built this city on rock and roll
(On rock)

We built this city
(In the midst of the struggle)
We built this city on rock
(On rock)
We built this city
(From bottom to top)
We built this city
(Through the agony and pain, diplomatic will reign)

We built this city
(On these blocks we hustle)
We built this city on rock
(On rock)
We built this city
(Turn bricks to whips)
We built this city on rock and roll
(On rock)

We built this city
(In the midst of the struggle)
We built this city on rock
(On rock)
We built this city
(From bottom to top)
We built this city
(Through the agony and pain, diplomatic will reign)

Now once again it's Santana the Great
I built this city on hammers and weight
Gasoline, rope, bandannas and tape
Lots of fiends, lots of coke being handed away

You know, the usual
Shut 'em down, set up show, how we usually do
Cut 'em down, hit the block man, we moving through
Diplomats is the strongest force

On and off the court we ballers more than sports
We built this city from ground zero
To spitting the pound zero, brown pistol
At ya get down kicka, yeah, this is from the ground up nigga

So get your weight and your pounds up nigga
'Cause when it's beef my homies mound up quicker
Fit the pound much quicker, lay you down much quicker
You never been approached by Golden Eagles
Vultures that will scope and feed you, no court just leave you
Shit you know

We built this city
(On these blocks we hustle)
We built this city on rock
(On rock)
We built this city
(Turn bricks to whips)
We built this city on rock and roll
(On rock)

We built this city
(In the midst of the struggle)
We built this city on rock
(On rock)
We built this city
(From bottom to top)
We built this city
(Through the agony and pain, diplomatic will reign)

We built this city
(On these blocks we hustle)
We built this city on rock
(On rock)
We built this city
(Turn bricks to whips)
We built this city on rock and roll
(On rock)

We built this city
(In the midst of the struggle)
We built this city on rock
(On rock)
We built this city
(From bottom to top)
We built this city
(Through the agony and pain, diplomatic will reign)

It's like what I wouldn't do for a buck
My enemies can't rest in peace Jones, you see they funerals up
New gangstas in the city bitch, ring the alarm
All y'all hoes bow down, kiss the ring of a don

It's about to get real big playa, humongous
Stacked money so long 'til it grew fungus
We was gon' let you live 'til you threw punches
Now we got to get critical and we got to get rid of you

And we the most talked about, the most popular
We live by the codes, we the Dipset mafia
You never know who's watching ya
You never know who's plotting to pop at ya

We focused like a pair of binoculars
I'm 'bout to get gritty
M-5 CLK's garage look like Alphabet City
And I'm a hustler, I put cracks in communities

Cops can't touch me, got Diplomatic Immunity
Now try I'm guaranteed a million shipped in scam
If not, back to the block, ship some grams

If not, get with Cam, I got clips to lift a van, flip a van
Shit, they can kick the can
This cat think he sling 'cause he got a pinky ring
Rinky-dink diamonds, they don't even make your pinky bling

(We built this city)
And now I'm about to kill this city
(We built this city)
Cradle to 50, yeah I'm acting real seditty

(We built this city)
'Cause I collect mils and fifties
For real it's pretty and y'all gonna feel the pity
(We built this city on rock)
Dipset Bitch

We built this city
(On these blocks we hustle)
We built this city on rock
(On rock)
We built this city
(Turn bricks to whips)
We built this city on rock and roll
(On rock)

We built this city
(In the midst of the struggle)
We built this city on rock
(On rock)
We built this city
(From bottom to top)
We built this city
(Through the agony and pain, diplomatic will reign)

We built this city
(On these blocks we hustle)
We built this city on rock
(On rock)
We built this city
(Turn bricks to whips)
We built this city on rock and roll
(On rock)

We built this city
(In the midst of the struggle)
We built this city on rock
(On rock)
We built this city
(From bottom to top)
We built this city
(Through the agony and pain, diplomatic will reign)

We built this city
(On these blocks we hustle)
We built this city on rock
(On rock)
We built this city
(Turn bricks to whips)
We built this city on rock and roll
(On rock)

We built this city
(In the midst of the struggle)
We built this city on rock
(On rock)
We built this city
(From bottom to top)
We built this city
(Through the agony and pain, diplomatic will reign)

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42cb187ed2e3c3422efd6a84ffcf183d

Mic Check - Lyrics - What the Game's Been Missing! - Juelz Santana

Title: Mic Check
Album: What the Game's Been Missing!
Artist: Juelz Santana
Composer(s): Quincy Jones, Qaadir Atkinson, James Cleveland, Laron James

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

Lyric:
I been paying attention to what's going on out there man
I been watching you niggaz stealing my ways and shit
And it's getting out of control now
I'ma telling you dudes just like I tell my woman
Don't watch me, watch TV, this is pay per view, you gotta pay for this

First, let me take time to brush my shoulders off
Wait, I had to dust my shoulders off
Thanks, y'all been waiting, been patient, been anxious
Now, I therefore bring back me, your greatness

The rap Ali, jab I weave
Then come back with the same jab times three
I blow smoke to the heaven, I'm so close to perfection
Rap's one big casino, I'm plotting Ocean Eleven

I might have sold the least
But I still manage to be most feared by most emcees
Who holding me? Who close to me?
For sho Papi, nobody, yeah, that's how it's supposed to be

Now listen, you can either comprehend it or compliment it
It's all authentic
But you better believe whatever I say
Guess what you can bet it all I meant it

Mic check one two, one two
Mic check one two, one two
Mic check one two, what is this?
Santana's back to business, let's go

Mic check one two, one two
Mic check one two, one two
Mic check one two, what is this?
Santana's back to business, let's go

Bad news, rap dudes, I'm back, fools
Give the thrown up, this is that jack move
Ha choo, I just sneezed and the track moved
God blessed me, yes, that's true

So bright, throw lights up for me
For life married the game, throw rice up for me
So nice, throw ice up for me
Two pieces for B.I.G. and one piece for that kid

I am back, yup, put a stack up
Let it down, set it down, now, I'm 'bout to act up
For you to get rid of me, you'll need about 50 G's
In army fatigues ready to bleed please believe

If you catch me pushing a whip
It's a new coupe wit a lip
Or something foreign I'll never forget
Yes, I'm the man, bet, I'm the man
Am I here to save the day? Oh yes, I definitely am

Mic check one two, one two
Mic check one two, one two
Mic check one two, what is this?
Santana's back to business, let's go

Mic check one two, one two
Mic check one two, one two
Mic check one two, what is this?
Santana's back to business, let's go

Look homie, quick homie, get a camera get a flick
Get a load of this homie
I spit, homie, the flow so sick, homie
Once again I'm back, this is it, homie

The album's done, which mean the album's coming
Spent a while but fuck it
This time around I'm fronting
I done styled and stunted
I done wild in public, I done paid my dues
Did my hundred miles and running, now I'm back

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6530b154b9ad4143d18edcd35cf9661f

8 Minutes To Sunrise - Lyrics - Common

Title: 8 Minutes To Sunrise
Artist: Common
Composer(s): Rashid Lonnie Lynn, Jill Scott, Andre Harris

Lyric:
Yeah, yo, yo, yo yo, yo, yo
Yo, a touch of jazz y'all, yeah, yeah
[Unverified] y'all, yo they got us on the run, like

8 minutes to sunrise
Oh baby now, what are we gonna do?
(I don't know)
Pressure is mountin'
Oh baby now, how we gonna get through?
(I, don't, know)

Can't go left, can't go right
(Uh uh, uh uh)
Don't know, how we made it through the night
(C'mon c'mon c'mon)
7 minutes to sunrise
Oh baby now, what are we gonna do?
(Do it, do it)

It was once said by Black Thought that "Things fall apart"
Knew I shouldn't have been messin' with dude's girl from start
But I pimp from the heart, the art of it made it interestin'
Plus me and sister blend before we got intimate

Friend or no friend, my man caught wind
This chick is payin' me, it'll either cost me or cost him
Told her she shoulda lost him a while ago
(When?)
'Cause dude'll drink a pile of Mo' and defile her yo

I ain't here to start on this nigga, for me to wreck his broad
You could tell what I thought of this nigga
Nickname was Smoke, don't know if that was cause of cigarettes
(Or what?)
Or guns he tote, he called shots on the deck

So I wasn't tryin' to call his bluff, by his persona
You could see, he think he tough
If that wasn't enough, old girl had his son
This is Wild like the West I'm like Jesse on the run, uhh

6 minutes to sunrise
Oh baby now, what are we gonna do?
(I don't know)
Pressure is mountin
Oh baby now, how we gon' get through?
(I, don't, know)

Can't go left and can't go right and
(Uh uh, uh uh)
Don't know, how we made it through the night
(Yo, we got)
5 minutes to sunrise
Oh baby now, what are we gonna do?
(Do it, do it)

I understand that time is runnin' out, I'm thinkin' of town-skippin'
Got a Chevy but the alternator be trippin'
I'm hittin' rum straight, thinkin' of a route to truncate
The streets is watchin', out is one way I put myself in his Nike's

His position is, "Aight man, somebody bonin' my lady"
Probably snap like Rod-man
My plan was to meet at this bar called the Tiki
(When?)
'Round four, when she was comin' she would beep me

I sat deep in the corner, drinkin' zombies, becomin' one by now
Wonderin' if my style would support her and her child
Out the corner of my eye saw this stud I recognized
(Who?)
One of Smoke's guys, to stay out of sight I tried

Told Jill Scott to meet we coulda picked a better spot
On some nobody's supposed to be here, shit like Deborah Cox
Looked at my watch, shit I don't even got a watch
Felt for my glock, dammit I don't even got a glock, yo

4 minutes to sunrise
Oh baby now, what are we gonna do?
(I don't know)
Pressure is mountin'
Oh baby now, how we gon' get through?
(I, don't, know)

Can't go left and can't go right and
(Uh uh, uh uh)
Don't know, how we made it through the night
(C'mon c'mon)
3 minutes to sunrise
Oh baby now, what are we gonna do?
(Do it, do it)

Pressure puh-pressure what? The pressure's cookin'
It ain't good lookin', like a black promoter I'm talkin' bookin'
Not that I'm spooked of dude, I could whup him
But he was on the horn informin' the rest of them hoodlums
(Aight)

Usually I wouldn't fight over a woman, old girl had a sun-shine
was messed up, on Smoke's payroll was one-time
My pager went off, it read one line, "Come get me
From Halsted", I'm thinkin' this is monkey bar, shit

Went to the phone quick, called her, her line was busy
(What happened?)
Situation number nine, got my mind dizzy
Wondered if this plan was designed to get me
I've been drinkin' too strong to be thinkin' too long

Like 40 goin' North I'm doin' 50, headed for the spot
Askin' God to be with me, and lately
She has been actin' shifty
(But what?)
But then it hit me, it hit me
(Hit me, hit me)
It hit me, it hit me
(Hit me)

2 minutes to sunrise
Oh baby now, what are we gonna do?
(I don't know)
Pressure is mountin'
Oh baby now, how we gonna get through?
(Yo, I said I, don't, know)

Can't go left and can't go right and
(Uh uh, nope)
Don't know, how we made it through the night
(Yo, we got)
1 minute to sunrise
Oh baby now, what are we gonna do?
(One one, one ha?)

1 minute, one, one
(We got, we got)
1 minute, one, one
(Ahh shit, we got)

1 minute, one, one
(What we got girl?)
1 minute, now, now
(Baby, com sense on the run)

1 minute, one
(Com sense on the run)
1 minute
(Just got on the run, just got on the run)

Com sense on the run, com sense on the run
Just got on the run, just got on the run
They got us on the run like, they got us on the run

They got us on the yo, they got us on the run
Uhh, yo, they got us on the run
They got us on the yo, they got us on the run
And we out

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22d7baef65652d6e2b29a287dfa19e80

Back Back - Lyrics - Lil' O

Title: Back Back
Artist: Lil' O
Composer(s): Magnus Magnus-Lawson, Aswad W Sampson, W Malone

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

Lyric:
Back, back, back, back gimme 50 feet
Or I'ma grab the gat and hit a nigga with the heat
Back, back, back, back gimme 50 feet
Don't try to gimme dap bitch you ain't no kin to me
Back, back, back, back gimme 50 feet
'Cause you catch a slap if keep on grillin' me
Back, back, back, back gimme 50 feet
Gimme 50 feet, gimme 50 feet

Hey, here's a little story 'bout a nigga like me
I fuck bad broads live large and drive V's
Some say I'm cocky and rude, I might be
But nigga fuck you, you ain't got to like me

I'm at the bar taking sips of long island ice tea
Wrist looking' blue or icy I'm pricey
Bitch niggas mean mugging' and starin' all shiesty
Don't make me pepper spray your face, have you lookin' all spicy

'Cause I know you niggas hatin' and wanna fight me
Thinking I'm all Hollywood like Spike Lee
Thinking I'ma steal you and fuck up your white T
When I catch you in your jaw I'ma fuck up your white teeth

But nigga I be ready to scuffle like dice peat
And y'all walkin' outta this tussle ain't likely
I hope you boys ready to rumble I'm quite deep
And I ain't friendly but I'ma tell you politely

Back, back, back, back gimme 50 feet
Or I'ma grab the gat and hit a nigga with the heat
Back, back, back, back gimme 50 feet
Don't try to gimme dap bitch you ain't no kin to me
Back, back, back, back gimme 50 feet
'Cause you catch a slap if keep on grillin' me
Back, back, back, back gimme 50 feet
Gimme 50 feet, gimme 50 feet

Say I'm the type of cat when I pull up in the place
You hates like a blow job put it in they face
I buy the goochie shoes matching belt lookin' great
Dubs sounding cool you can tell I'm pushin' weights

Courtier full of flakes snow storms in the peaks
Hoe taming nigga keep my bitch on a leash
You the typa cat that'll chase a chick for weeks
Then try to box a nigga when you hear, he hit your freak

But playa don't you know you outta line that shit is weak
And fightin' over broads will get you killed up in these streets
You running round here plexin' always thinking shit is sweet
Then have the nerve to wonder why them bullets hit ya cheek

Then wanna step to me talkin' but
(Oh, you foul)
All up in my face talking 'bout
(You hit my gal)
I'm looking at him stupid like man this shit is wild
You better give me space asshole I ain't ya pal

Back, back, back, back gimme 50 feet
Or I'ma grab the gat and hit a nigga with the heat
Back, back, back, back gimme 50 feet
Don't try to gimme dap bitch you ain't no kin to me
Back, back, back, back gimme 50 feet
'Cause you catch a slap if keep on grillin' me
Back, back, back, back gimme 50 feet
Gimme 50 feet, gimme 50 feet

I keep my game on face when I'm riding on chops
Straight gorilla pimp don't even wave to the bops
Lookin' like a snail crawlin' slow through the lot
Fist full of grain other hand on the glock

'Cause when you want fee jackers want what you got
That's why I stay ready with the inferred dot
The first one to jump is the first getting shot
Put the beam on his head then I take off his block

You love to rob O like take off you rocks
Take off your shoes playa take off your socks
But I'm the type of cat before I take off my watch
Aim at your chest and try to take off you heart

You know how I do playa shake off tha marks
Hit him with the big guns that take off a part
Chest lookin' like he been ate by a shark
Bitch you better mind stay in line play it smart

Back, back, back, back gimme 50 feet
Or I'ma grab the gat and hit a nigga with the heat
Back, back, back, back gimme 50 feet
Don't try to gimme dap bitch you ain't no kin to me
Back, back, back, back gimme 50 feet
'Cause you catch a slap if keep on grillin' me
Back, back, back, back gimme 50 feet
Gimme 50 feet, gimme 50 feet

Back, back, back, back gimme 50 feet
Or I'ma grab the gat and hit a nigga with the heat
Back, back, back, back gimme 50 feet
Don't try to gimme dap bitch you ain't no kin to me
Back, back, back, back gimme 50 feet
'Cause you catch a slap if keep on grillin' me
Back, back, back, back gimme 50 feet
Gimme 50 feet, gimme 50 feet

Back, back, back, back gimme 50 feet
Or I'ma grab the gat and hit a nigga with the heat
Back, back, back, back gimme 50 feet
Don't try to gimme dap bitch you ain't no kin to me
Back, back, back, back gimme 50 feet
'Cause you catch a slap if keep on grillin' me
Back, back, back, back gimme 50 feet
Gimme 50 feet, gimme 50 feet
...

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Love L. O. D. - Lyrics - Keith Murray

Title: Love L. O. D.
Artist: Keith Murray
Composer(s): Gerald W. Belin, Kelly J. Brister, Rod Kirkpatrick, Keith Murray, Erick S. Sermon

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

Lyric:
Yo, I seen them motherfuckers out in the street
Them pussy asses
(Man, fuck them niggas anyway)
Hood rats and those fat rolly polly punks

Yo Kel
(What up?)
Yo answer this question
Why are we the nicest in this fuckin' profession?

Yo, it's um, simple philosophy
Doe, ray, me, fa, so, love L.O.D.
(Yeah, yeah)

Aye yo 50
(What's up?)
Answer this question
(What's that?)
Why are you the best in your profession?

Now when I'm creepin' on a bitch MC
Doe, ray, me, fa, so love L.O.D.

Keith Murray
(Yo, what's up 50?)
Answer the question?
(What's that?)
Why are you be the sickest in this profession?

I been all around the world hearing the wack MC's
It's doe, ray, me, fa, so love L.O.D.
(Aye yo)
Ask yourself the very same question
Why are we the wickedest in this profession?

I'm breaking back with Def Squad constantly
Doe, ray, me, fa, so love L.O.D.
Any nigga want to step, get busy
Doe, ray, me, fa, so love L.O.D.

I be the bushwa freaker
Coming through your speaker
My jams be getting stronger
While your shit be gettin' weaker

Now Kel be playin' kids like the New York Knicks
Taking it to your ass with these rhymes and shit
'Cause kids contradict themselves when they be rhyming
Sounding like shit, off beat with no timing

Now soon as I touch the paper
See you later
I shut your lights off like a blackout
So hit the circuit breaker

I'm the worst trouble you ever had vocab like knife stabs
Comin' wild killin' in a paragraph
Holding niggas ransom, it runs in my blood
Maybe my grandson might be wild like Charles Manson

I be the gimmie, the got ya
Been blastin' niggas way
Before the remix I shot ya
The proper hip hopper

Fading 'em in the Palladium
And bustin' each and every nigga, bubble in the Tunnel
Now, after the sunshine comes the rain
Hold up, wait a minute, let me back up and just explain

I been all around the world, what battle me?
Take this autograph home and give it to your family
All I hear is booty stinkin' ass wack MC's
Strictly doe, ray, me, fa, so love L.O.D.

Nigga your life means nothing to me, challenge L.O.D.
The average nigga style sucks like a hickey
50 G, the MC's brain buster, mic crusher
Dirty money quicker picke upper, crew duster

Now that L.O.D.'s up in this motherfucker
Leave a known rapper with broken English
Like smooth da hustler

Same thing make a nigga laugh
Make his ass cry
He rolled a seven I bet it all he turned around
And rolled snake eyes

My thinking cap is bigger than a fuckin' Sade's
Stay all-terrain, rainin' on all parades
The street is my bed and the corner is my pillow
I'll kill your fuckin' ass and for your crew I'll do ditto

I'll leave a nigga dead and stinkin' take his soul
Cha-boom, cha-boom fill him up with holes
Natural born killer, killer than the rest
(Where you at?)
East coast to west

I keep it real kid
I freak the flow until it's naked
Niggas get panicked and frantic
And can't take it

I been all around the world, what battle me?
Take this autograph home and give it to your family
Def Squad's the family, you don't want to see
Strictly doe, ray, me, fa, so love L.O.D.

Kel-Vicious
(What up Keith?)
Answer this question
(What up?)
Why you so fuckin' nice in this profession?

Aye, yo 50
(What's up?)
Answer this question
Why you so nice in your profession?

Aye, yo Murray
(What's up?)
Answer this question
(What's that?)
Why you so nice in this profession?

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