This Is The New Shit - Lyrics - The Golden Age Of Grotesque - Marilyn Manson

Title: This Is The New Shit
Album: The Golden Age Of Grotesque
Artist: Marilyn Manson
Composer(s): Tim Skold, Brian Warner, John Lowery

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

Lyric:
Everything has been said before
Nothing left to say anymore
When it's all the same
You can ask for it by name

Babble, babble, bitch, bitch
Rebel, rebel, party, party
Sex, sex, sex
And don't forget the violence
Blah, blah, blah
Got your lovey dovey sad and lonely
Stick your stupid slogan in
Everybody sing along

Babble, babble, bitch, bitch
Rebel, rebel, party, party
Sex, sex, sex
And don't forget the violence
Blah, blah, blah
Got your lovey dovey sad and lonely
Stick your stupid slogan in
Everybody sing

Are you motherfuckers ready
For the new shit?
Stand up and admit
Tomorrow's never coming
This is the new shit
Stand up and admit
Do we get it?
(No)
Do we want it?
(Yea)
This is the new shit
Stand up and admit

Babble, babble, bitch, bitch
Rebel, rebel, party, party
Sex, sex, sex
And don't forget the violence
Blah, blah, blah
Got your lovey dovey sad and lonely
Stick your stupid slogan in
Everybody sing along

Everything has been said before
Nothing left to say anymore
When it's all the same
You can ask for it by name

Are you motherfuckers ready
For the new shit?
Stand up and admit
Tomorrow's never coming
This is the new shit
Stand up and admit
Do we get it?
(No)
Do we want it?
(Yea)
This is the new shit
Stand up and admit

Now it's you know who
I got the you know what
I stick it you know where
You know why, you don't care

Now it's you know who
I got the you know what
I stick it you know where
You know why, you don't care

Now it's you know who
I got the you know what
I stick it you know where
You know why, you don't care

Now it's you know who
I got the you know what
I stick it you know where
You know why, you don't care

Babble, babble, bitch, bitch
Rebel, rebel, party, party
Sex, sex, sex
And don't forget the violence
Blah, blah, blah
Got your lovey dovey sad and lonely
Stick your stupid slogan in
Everybody sing

Are you motherfuckers ready
For the new shit?
Stand up and admit
Tomorrow's never coming
This is the new shit
Stand up and admit
Do we get it?
(No)
Do we want it?
(Yea)
This is the new shit
Stand up and admit

So let us entertain you
So let us entertain you
(Babble, babble, bitch, bitch)
(Rebel, rebel, party, party)
(Sex, sex, sex)
(And don't forget the violence)
(Blah, blah, blah)
(Got your lovey dovey sad and lonely)
(Stick your stupid slogan in)
(Everybody sing along)
So let us entertain you
(Babble, babble, bitch, bitch)
(Rebel, rebel, party, party)
(Sex, sex, sex)
(And don't forget the violence)
(Blah, blah, blah)
(Got your lovey dovey sad and lonely)
(Stick your stupid slogan in)
(Everybody sing along)
So let us entertain you
(Babble, babble, bitch, bitch)
(Rebel, rebel, party, party)
(Sex, sex, sex)
(And don't forget the violence)
(Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah)
(Everybody sing along)

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218955502cd05675e439228cd6b22354

Walk In New York - Lyrics - Onyx

Title: Walk In New York
Artist: Onyx
Composer(s): Kirk Jones, Fred Scruggs, Taylor Taylor

Lyric:
One time, one time, that's it, yeah
This the Onyx shit, know what I'm sayin'
Coming out the motherfucking crevices
Coming out the fucking cracks like snakes boy
Word to mother

All my niggas in queens and ya don't stop
All my niggas in Brooklyn and ya don't stop
All my niggas in Uptown and ya don't stop
All my niggas in the boogie woogie and ya won't stop
We gonna set this shit New York style

We don't throw gang signs in New York
We just be on some shit in New York
New York City, shiftee low down gritty
You punk niggaz yell pity and smell shitty

NYPD can suck my dick
This is the way we rip shit from the bricks
Walking like a zombie smoking blunts in the lobby
I be rolling with my niggas behind me take 'em off

Attention, fuck all that slippin' and inchin'
I'm rappin' loot snatchin' staying greasy the shit ain't easy
I'm coming raw hide, serious as a 45
The damn streets are eager to take more lives

Fuck it, it's my home, hate it or appreciate it
It's the tour 8 million story orientated
Designated and made for the real renegade
So I never been afraid to start car, they get paid

This is the way we walk in New York
This is the way we walk in New York
This is the way we walk in New York
This is the way we walk in New York

I'ma stay on my job 'cause that's my adventure
I was bred to be a big gainer who can't contain a placenta
The USG witch make me switch like a skitso
When red rummin' gets so hot but never blow back to the cold spot

If the heat got too much, I'ma slide down south
Outta town 'bout, leave the home or I'll move shit down
On keyed lock, we rock
(All nuthin')

And then New York niggaz was pulling your shit
Your shit wasn't right, we known to start shit up
From trends to riots to ruckus
And big enough to fuck up anybody that wanna attack us

And that's 'cause the fire burns are deep
Most of us are peeps-ture New York niggaz play for keeps
(Wanna be a part of it, New York is always starting shit)

Fuck them, I'ma a nasty native
(New Yorker)
The full of shit talker, the dark street walker
Shining in time stalker, bringin' it back to reality

This is for my niggaz in NYC, not since '76
Since the knicks won the championships
Hasn't been some more shit like this
So back up get up and ass up and my rap wax sound

My shots ring loud and panic the crowd
(Blow 'em up)
Get up, my sounds downtown
(Hold 'em up)
Gimme everything right now

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eda1ce2f2ea1fb18daceb512913585e8

Nu Flow - Lyrics - Nu Flow - Big Brovaz

Title: Nu Flow
Album: Nu Flow
Artist: Big Brovaz
Composer(s): Dion Howell, Nadia Shepherd, Abdul Bello, John Paul Horsley, Cherise Roberts, Michael Brown, Dean Mcintosh, Michael Mugisha, Temi Tayo

Lyric:
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls
It is my pleasure to introduce to you all
The finest, the brightest
The meanest, the strongest
The very best of them all
The south London collective group, known as
For goodness sake Roger, who is it?

This is Big Bro, Bro
Taking over the show, show
With this new flow, flow
You need to listen up

And feel this shit, shit
'Cause we won?t quit, quit
We make them hits
And stack them chips

It's flawless, I came for the doe
As soon as I step in the door
I see that you?re hating my glow
The crew, the flow we?re soon to blow

We?re tired of being this poor
And having to sleep on the floor
And working a 9 to 5
Just like a five dollar whore

Knowing we?re worth more
We simply had to settle the score
That?s why you see these albums
And the singles in the store

It?s Big Brovaz, baby
Trying to cash some major figures
You mess with my cheese
And I?ll switch just like Schwarzenegger

This is Big Bro, Bro
Taking over the show, show
With this new flow, flow
You need to listen up

And feel this shit, shit
'Cause we won?t quit, quit
We make them hits
And stack them chips

It?s Dion, I bet you won?t forget my name
I probably maybe gonna
Get inside your brain

My family does the same
It?s B B?s time to reign
We?re doing them platinum things
I know you ain't ready for me

You move you lose
Can?t wear my shoes
Cherise brand new
Me and my crew

Don?t try our flow
If your tongue don?t roll
You?ll lose control
We're just way too cold

This is Big Bro, Bro
Taking over the show, show
With this new flow, flow
You need to listen up

And feel this shit, shit
'Cause we won?t quit, quit
We make them hits
And stack them chips

Hey yo, this is Jay Rock
And I've got more
Skill?s than average
Put us together man
We?re more than all of yawl can manage

'Cause we be the baddest at it
This hit took years of practice
And now we're showing more
Money and it?s more madness

Stack up on a daily basis
We've traveled so many places
Switching so many chicks
Were mixing up the names with faces

They see the ice and they trip
They like to ride in the whip
But all I wanna know is
If these girls is riding the, ahh

Who?s, who?s, who?s this?

This is the N.A.D.I
You didn't think I was coming at ya
Giving you people a different
Kind of big brother flava

I bet yawl didn't think
I be riding these beats and making the paper
But I guess that I?m a paper chaser playa
And it?s in my nature

This is Big Bro, Bro
Taking over the show, show
With this new flow, flow
You need to listen up

And feel this shit, shit
'Cause we won?t quit, quit
We make them hits
And stack them chips

This is Big Bro, Bro
Taking over the show, show
With this new flow, flow
You need to listen up

And feel this shit, shit
'Cause we won?t quit, quit
We make them hits
And stack them chips

Uh, huh
(Woman)
Uh, huh
(Man)
Uh, huh
(Woman)

Uh, huh
(Man)
Uh, huh
(Woman)
Uh, huh
(Man)

Who's, who's this?

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43a17798d928f6a3ee7513e1bbf67ef6

Revolution Calling - Lyrics - Fight

Title: Revolution Calling
Artist: Fight
Composer(s): Kate Turley, Graham Turley, Jack Turley

Lyric:
This is the time that things will change
A brand new day we'll re-arrange
You'll let us through
You'll let us through

This is the revolution you know it'll never end
This is the new solution you know you can't pretend
We're the new noise pollution you know we will defend
This is the revolution you know it'll never ever end

Boy bands fuck off, hang the DJ
The time has come to go away
You'll let us through
You'll let us through

This is the revolution you know it'll never end
This is the new solution you know you can't pretend
We're the new noise pollution you know we will defend
This is the revolution you know it'll never ever end

Revolution Calling
Revolution Calling
Revolution Calling
Revolution Calling

Every single day a new bands gonna play
But no ones gonna listen pop shit's in the way
We gotta get rid of it, rid of it now
Before they all take over and we don't care how

There's bands like us that are gonna change the charts
But the charts are fucked up, for a start
This is the time for a brand new age
But I know I can hear the revolution calling

This is the revolution you know it'll never end
This is the new solution you know you can't pretend
We're the new noise pollution you know we will defend
This is the revolution you know it'll never ever end

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7f39f6084dfb8c67d307a730f6fdc0b0

King Of N. Y. - Lyrics - Jealous Ones Still Envy - Fat Joe

Title: King Of N. Y.
Album: Jealous Ones Still Envy
Artist: Fat Joe
Composer(s): Leonard Caston, M Valenzano, A Lyon, Joseph Cartagena, Anita Poree

Lyric:
An' bamba clad boy feel dem bobbin' try an' test now
Is that? Cut off dem blood-clot nigga don't give a fuck
Watta feel like? Don't know how to kill?

Saya, Saya
What is it Khalid, what is it?
The original King of New York has returned
The King of New York, the Don Cartagena
Joe Crack, Terror Squad leader

The fuck? What?
Yeah, mind on my money, money on my mind
Nigga mind on my money, money on my mind

Aiyyo, who can test I, the true King of N.Y.
Well, ever since Big Boy died from Bed-Stuy
I've been, controllin' the street, holdin' the heat
Shit I only want what's stolen from me
(Nah you ain't fuckin' wit' us)
Rollin' with me, could only get you fast cars and
Fuck mad bitches and, dine amongst the stars
But we gettin' mad chave in the life we live
MTV's comin' over just to feel my "Crib"
Man, fuck them other kids, that's how I feel
I thought I said it all in, "He's Not Real"

But you beggin' me to kill, must want ya brain spilled
I tryna keep cool but it's hard to tame still
Shit's still real man you never shoulda bought it
Must feel ill to see your boss get extorted
Specialize in audits and makin' hot tapes
This rap shit don't cut it then it's back to flippin' weight
Man, I'm feelin' great, pushin' mad units
Hustlin' is the key to success but could you do it
I been layin' it down, the spray and the town
It's about time the rightful owner claimed his crown

Who the fuck you know be fuckin' with this?
As Big Pun's knowin' you'll be givin' a shit
Not a damn soul, I let you know from the get go
Wanna war with the Squad, walk through the threshold

Who the fuck you know be fuckin' with this?
As Big Pun's knowin' you'll be givin' a shit
Not any squad or clique can squab with this
Shit I'm O.G. nigga y'all know how this is

Hey yo, it's all over, I want a piece of the pie
Nigga hand it over or all your seeds gon' die
And it don't take much for me to kidnap a DJ
Or clap at ya truck while you ridin' through the freeway
Shit is mad ea-say to wet you up
Betta, watch yo' bitch and who's dick she sucked
She gon', set you up, I been to the crib
I don't know why you surprised, bitches love the kid
I'm more realer than the way you act
A born killer quick to wave the mack
And all you niggaz gotta face the fact

I pop shit 'cuz you can't stop me
More rich 'cuz they can't rob me
I plant clips at ya fam's lobby
Joe the Don and you been warned
But niggaz never wanna listen till they kin's gone
Now you wanna get it on 'cuz ya dollars stack
Now how you plan to holla back with a hollow back?
Joey Crack and I be the truth
Don't believe that's the streets till proof
Ask the deez how my Eagle blew
Betchu sayin', "Damn, what we did to duke?"
Better gather them young'ns and hope you make it through

Who the fuck you know be fuckin' with this?
As Big Pun's knowin' you'll be givin' a shit
Not a damn soul, I let you know from the get go
Wanna war with the Squad, walk through the threshold

Who the fuck you know be fuckin' with this?
As Big Pun's knowin' you'll be givin a shit
Not any squad or clique can squab with this
Shit I'm O.G. nigga y'all know how this is

Who the fuck you know be fuckin' with this?
As Big Pun's knowin' you'll be givin a shit
Not a damn soul, I let you know from the get go
Wanna war with the Squad, walk through the threshold

Who the fuck you know be fuckin' with this?
As Big Pun's knowin' you'll be givin' a shit
Not any squad or clique can squab with this
Shit I'm O.G. nigga y'all know how this is

The Don is the King of New York
The Don is the King of New York

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29aa47dcb0bd44db809237b2c46b42b1

This Is Da Way - Lyrics - Artifact

Title: This Is Da Way
Artist: Artifact
Composer(s): W Williams, R Brown, Victor Padilla

Lyric:
This is da way, this is da way
This is da way, this is da way

Hah, the former back of the classroom talk-trasher
Blastin' off at ya without help from NASA
Has ta blow a nigga's chest up like asthma
With raptures and fresh ass raps from wack bastards

West District politickin' like Gibson
Makes a pick-up and then escapes from New York like Snakeplitzkin
With trees tied to the thighs of down shorties clearin' Customs
Ready to cuss and bust on any nigga fuckin' with production
This ain't my bag

Back in the Bricks, tricks and kids dig the music as we dooz it
And lose it, when we play niggaz the new shit
Cross this T, watch me dot your eye
Stay on your P's and Q's, niggaz I've mastered my high
And when the snake bites and hype blinds your eyesight
At last, the Artifacts will bug and have the last laugh

We're comin' through all studio sessions
Bringin' 40 motherfuckers
Pissin' all over your conference tables

Rhyme style criminal with the lyrical missile
Wack niggaz the issue bless, catchin' wreck, to your chest
Rock even Budapest, who the best, on the spot
Blitzin' niggaz wicked from the cornerback, slot for props

MC's pop but run up close into my strategy
Task be easily complete major catastrophe
I be the rhymin' holocaust with the sauce to toss
Those who fakin' jacks in rappin' know they fallin' off

Is it the way we lay the forte, display my caliber
Slayin' my challengers, used to be a dancer, now a flow, balancer
Man, get back to practice, dip into my tricks
Pullin? out treats and singles comin' by the hits
Shit done by Vic, units for the 96
MC El da Sen, with 'Da Way Like This'

This is da way
(We kickin' over your croissants)
This is da way
(Smackin' your secretary up and kickin' up that fuckin' computer)

This is da way
(We snatchin' all the paper from fax machines)
This is da way
(And we stoppin' distribution on your next release, huh)

What makes you think that we can't start beef in a heartbeat
Like car thief's with snacks
Givin' rappers hot flashes for actions of our main [Incomprehensible]
Knockin' out you half rockin' my jocks on your asses like Cassius

But cautious, these dope rhymes'll leave you nauseous
Still niggaz sleep but umm, we still got the
Picture perfect workin', expert that hurts it
Anyone with the verse, that shit gets bursted
Exploit the time, simplify tracks, I rap
For brothers on the block and those who buy me off the rack

Attack foes who [Incomprehensible]
Jot down the plot as this MC gets into that ass
The bass thickens, while crews face their whippin'
Always on the low but you'll never see me slippin'

This is da way, this is da way
This is da way, this is da way
We rock the high

This is da way, this is da way
This is da way, this is da way
We rock the high

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290263eea8d11d9a88d37f72d7d2c517

Twurkulator - Lyrics - Ying Yang Twins

Title: Twurkulator
Artist: Ying Yang Twins
Composer(s): C Young, Eric Jackson, Deongelo Holmes, C. Dorsey, Gar Michael Antoine Crooms

Lyric:
Get on the floor and do the Twurkulator

I'm givin' you 5 seconds to get your big booty ass on the floor
And do that brand new dance that Ying Yang came back with
Twurk somethin' come here! Twurk somethin' come here!

The dance is called the Twurkulator
So put your booty on duty and represent for da rent
'Cause Ying Yang is doin' this thing
And we ain't goin nowhere!

This shit for da Twurkulators
This shit for da Twurkulators
This shit for da Twurkulators
This shit for da Twurkulators

It's for the freaky ass hoes who like to fuck
Get it put in the butt all that freaky stuff
And like to ride a dick from the floor to the table
Get on the floor and do the Twurkulator

Shorty down and get drunk or she'll drink a
If her momma knew she was crunk, she'll spank her
Shorty down to get bread
Fuck a nigga shakin' in the club that's what I said

Everything is a reason
We loose and have dues, it's all season
You gotta be down for the cause
When they comin' up out them draws
Don't be pullin' them off at the job

Shorty like hittin' the club 'cause she like to dance
Gettin' freaky on the floor doin' the 3 point stance
And she got a fat monkey down in her pants
She a hatta like biggy, gimmie one more chance

And she like gettin' freaky like a fuck bitch
The way she twurk, I betcha she could ride a good dick
If ya like what I'm sayin', you gotta be able
To get on the floor and do the Twurkulator

This shit for the Twurkulators
This shit for the Twurkulators
This shit for the Twurkulators
This shit for the Twurkulators

It's for the freaky ass hoes who like to fuck
Get it put in the butt all that freaky stuff
And like to ride a dick from the floor to the table
Get on the floor and do the Twurkulator

Take a bitch form the club back to the crib
Take them clothes off, lemme see them pussy-lips
You know what time it is, so why you wastin' it?
You wanna fuck, I wanna fuck so why you fakin' it?

You like to ride a dick or do it doggy style
I'll show you new tricks and do it froggy style
I gotta a long deep pole for da deep pussy hole
If the pussy too tight, then the pussy gettin' swole

This is for da women who love to get kinky
D-Rock and Pain like the Brain and Pinky
Gunna take over the world like buyin' the mansions
For them girls who like to fuck with them big ol' asses

Back it up bend on ova then touch your toes
I got a friend got me in 'cuz she given to these hoes
Beat this ho make that pussy moan
While we in the bed ask me why I act this way and I said

This shit for the Twurkulators
This shit for the Twurkulators
This shit for the Twurkulators
This shit for the Twurkulators

It's for the freaky ass hoes who like to fuck
Get it put in the butt all that freaky stuff
And like to ride a dick from the floor to the table
Get on the floor and do the Twurkulator

Now Terry, she's a Twurkulator
Small and petite like her name was Jeda
All in the mall is where I made her
She asked me where I thought a real G could take her

To the [Incomprehensible] a little bit a trail-bit
Real did I'm a woody wood pecker type of feely feel man
She said, "You carry on like a true playa"
I told her came to was a Twurkulator

Georgia got some Twurkulators
Down in Florida, they got some Twurkulators
Alabama, they got some Twurkulators
North, South Carolina got some Twurkulators

New York got some Twurkulators
Detroit got some Twurkulators
Milwaukee got some Twurkulators
And wherever I forgot is some Twurkulators

This shit for the Twurkulators
This shit for the Twurkulators
This shit for the Twurkulators
This shit for the Twurkulators

It's for the freaky ass hoes who like to fuck
Get it put in the butt all that freaky stuff
And like to ride a dick from the floor to the table
Get on the floor and do the Twurkulator

This shit for the Twurkulators
This shit for the Twurkulators
This shit for the Twurkulators
This shit for the Twurkulators

It's for the freaky ass hoes who like to fuck
Get it put in the butt all that freaky stuff
And like to ride a dick from the floor to the table
Get on the floor and do the Twurkulator

It's time, it's time

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4d423cf3a3da6c2ece63cc9f85221483

Destroy Rebuild - Lyrics - Stillmatic - Nas

Title: Destroy Rebuild
Album: Stillmatic
Artist: Nas
Composer(s): Scott Larock, L Parker, Nasir Jones, M Risko, P Hendricks

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

Lyric:
This is a journey into the worlds most largest
And notorious projects, Queensbridge
Listen while Nas saves his hood from the most
Cowardest rappers

He held a mass appeal and a little boy smile
Depressed has a complex his mouth was foul
You need to stay around I feel like telling some stories
First there's this arrogant fuck, his names Cory
Hung around my mans like he a big Trevor
Trevor's still locked up, likes getting his cheddar
Cory changed his name to Arr, whatever
Corn chip, buckwheat lookalike, its mega

Right Mega was his name sorry about that
But it's so hard to put a cowards name in my rap
Always acting tough, a jokester be fronting
He got snuffed, he got shot in the thigh, he did nothing
But that's Nas always looking out for breadrin'
'Cause when breadrin' they return love they don't stress him
'Cause gangstas do gangsta shit, real recognize real
Still laughing to the bank and shit

Back to Cor, got him a deal but his rhymes was whack
Def Jam now that he signed a contract
Now he got jealous and mad at my shine
Making silly tapes, I'm always on his mind
Nonsense, not to be obnoxious kid
Mega, for the record, you could suck my dick
Bitch you from around the way it's sad what this do to me
But Queensbridge, we gotta have unity

They say the bridge is over, the bridge is over
Nah this is the time we destroy and rebuild it
They say, the bridge is over, the bridge is over
Nah we the strongest hood but weak niggas kill us
So they say, the bridge is over, the bridge is over
Nah this is the time we destroy and rebuild it
They say, the bridge is over, the bridge is over
Nah we the strongest hood but it's this cowards they kill us

So now since we on the subject of traders and flunkies
Mega ain't the only faggot in my hood dummies
Theres plenty that wanna be me but cannot
It's like King Arthur and knight Sir Lance-a-lot
Lefty and Donnie Brasco, Gotti and Paul
Before I woulda told you, Prodigy's my dog
Through the ups and downs, robberies and all
Though I always knew he wanted my downfall

He would say his little slick shit and act real funny
For what nigga you're butt and it got back to me
Asking a braveheart to get back your jewelry
You ain't from my hood, don't even rep Q B
Nature moved to Marcy
Man dick riding nature, nothing else to say
Man nature moved to Mars, back with ass niggas in fear
Fuck them niggas go head with the progam man proceed

Old lady pocketbook snatcher, car thief
Of course we ain't friends, you never stood on no blocks
Streets or corners with zombies, ghouls and gangstas
Cops, drug dealers with pools of blood anger
Just fills me, when niggas let out of town to set shot
And get filthy rich, it's just not
No more morals, no loyalty, no more community
Queensbridge, we gotta have unity

They say the bridge is over, the bridge is over
Nah this is the time we destroy and rebuild it
They say, the bridge is over, the bridge is over
Nah we the strongest hood but weak niggas kill it
So they say, the bridge is over, the bridge is over
Nah this is the time we destroy and rebuild it
They say, the bridge is over, the bridge is over
Nah we the strongest hood but it's this cowards they kill us

So nowI put the name on the map after Marly and Shan
QB before the Roc had one jam
Before the Death Row and Bad Boy Beef
Had streets locked with raw talent, I laugh at the weak
So this about cleaning up house, my own backyard
Famous home of rap stars well known be getting robbed
P how many times natures shamed that
Jungle was busting his gun to get your weak chain back

They don't respect you a check's due for me for your fame
Mega I hope you blow so I'm saying your name
Hoes play your position 'cause you'll never be king
Even Jigga want the crown, honestly poor thing
I'm representing Queensbridge U S A
Where two SK's go off every day new flesh lay
All you little roaches and rats
Besides my man Ricky, Nas the true ruler is back, so haters say

They say the bridge is over, the bridge is over
Nah this is the time we destroy and rebuild it
They say, the bridge is over, the bridge is over
Nah we the strongest hood but weak niggas kill it
So they say, the bridge is over, the bridge is over
Nah this is the time we destroy and rebuild it
They say, the bridge is over, the bridge is over
Nah we the strongest hood but it's this cowards they kill us

{So now they say the bridge is over my dick, bridge'll never be over
Long as I'm alive and breathing, Braveheart to the graveyard
I'm the William Wallace of this shit
Ayo P, Prodigy I got love for you man, I love you man
You know what I'm saying, just get them unloyal niggas
From out your circle, you can't save everybody
Niggas invited you to the hood, rep it right my nigga
Be untouchable my nigga, so it be Mobb for life for real}

{And thats real, ayo nature I can't hold your hand through this shit man
I'm not your father man, be your own man, stand on your own two
I believe in you, believe in yourself nigga or don't even rep this man
Ayo Mega you wanna be a gangsta? There's real gangsta
Shit going on in the streets man, yo niggas is in the grind
Where you be at man? Niggas be bucking
Why you never bucking, where you be at man?
All of a sudden you the motherfuckin' Neo Brown of the fucking hood
Its disgusting man, stay out the magazines}

{Keep my name out your motherfucking mouth
Theres no more room for jealousy, we destroying and rebuilding
That means the cowards get out and the real niggas stay
Niggas been hating me since I been nine, shining
With suede motherfucking ballets on in silks
I'ma always be the young don, don't be like the niggas on the other side
Hating me 'cause I'm beautiful, real niggas in Queensbridge
You niggas come up and get this money and move on baby, QB}

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df31e6e02d78f94d00dc2dd72b9e2825

What'S That Sound (Remix) - Lyrics - Angie Martinez

Title: What'S That Sound (Remix)
Artist: Angie Martinez
Composer(s): Andre Christopher Lyon, Marcello Anton Valenzano, Angie Martinez, Jamar Austin, Melissa A Elliott

Lyric:
Whoo, Cool-a-Dre, baby, oh
It's club but it's still sexy
Hey, life is good, yea, yo
What is that?

What's that sound? If you outside the club
And your joint, c'mon, you just pop the truck
Pull the car up and the line is packed and you far
You tired a' waiting, you better be catch a charge like
Move bitch, get out the way, flash the bouncer to get out a payin'
And that sound make you wanna get on stage
Oh, you gotta move dem thangs

Beat change, it's a Cool-a-Dre thing
That'll move your thang, thang
Remove your ring, change the sound
Get your jewels all sweated up, the booze is deaded up
Anything goes bring it back, if you just catchin' up
The sound coming outta the club, that's wassup
And they let you up, finally, dancing it up
Movin' around, DJ Keith, I need that sound

That new shit, that hot shit
Make you move shit, what's that sound?
That move crowds, that new sound
Make you can kick down, who's that chick?
That's Angie, them Bambi's
Screamin' Angie, what's that sound?
And this Missy gettin' tipsy off the whiskey

2002 be sceered, 'cause I'm runnin' this shit this year
Haters 'n haters you better be clear
Or you'll be kissin' my pussy on the rear
What I'm talking 'bout, with my filthy mouth, from the dirty South
Is a drug drop, c'mon, check me out
Ain't nobody does it easy seezy
And ain't nobody got the dick to sling me
Goddamn, what's that sound?
Didn't I tell you I'm about to shake it down?

I'm no punk but a killa like Cam
Get on the flo', yes, yes mam
When I show up the club get cram
Insecure, bitch, watch yo man
Me and Ang like butter on toast
I don't mean to boast but we do, I need that, yea

That new shit, that hot shit
Make you move shit, what's that sound?
That move crowds, that new sound
Make you can kick down, who's that chick?
That's Angie, them Bambi's
Screamin' Angie, what's that sound?
And this Missy gettin' tipsy off the whiskey

Hello, oh, oh, that's my ears ringing
I'm sitting here thinking that sound is still bangin'
As we leavin' the spot, I'm still drinking
Gotta leave 'cause the cops are still waiting
So we circle the block, as we workin' to blot
Then purposely watch, we so blingin'
And the truck is bright, light up the night, blinking
As we stuck in the chair feel like we sinking

That sound still drowned the air waves
The echo in my head feel like a bear cave
So I sit back to the sound of this track
Playin' on my way home, I can't forget that
That beat when you hear from the street
Make you wanna get on the floor and don't even speak
'Cause it don't even matter who be around
Get and that's DJ Keith playin' that sound

That new shit, that hot shit
Make you move shit, what's that sound?
That move crowds, that new sound
Make you can kick down, who's that chick?
That's Angie, them Bambi's
Screamin' Angie, what's that sound?
And this Missy gettin' tipsy off the whiskey

That new shit, that hot shit
Make you move shit, what's that sound?
That move crowds, that new sound
Make you can kick down, who's that chick?
That's Angie, them Bambi's
Screamin' Angie, what's that sound?
And this Missy gettin' tipsy off the whiskey

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6784fd07477cb716739b20a055d14ca5

What'S That Sound - Lyrics - Animal House - Angie Martinez

Title: What'S That Sound
Album: Animal House
Artist: Angie Martinez
Composer(s): Andre Christopher Lyon, Marcello Anton Valenzano, Angie Martinez, Jamar Austin, Melissa A Elliott

Lyric:
Whoo, Cool-a-Dre, baby, oh
It's club but it's still sexy
Hey, life is good, yea, yo
What is that?

What's that sound? If you outside the club
And your joint, c'mon, you just pop the truck
Pull the car up and the line is packed and you far
You tired a' waiting, you better be catch a charge like
Move bitch, get out the way, flash the bouncer to get out a payin'
And that sound make you wanna get on stage
Oh, you gotta move dem thangs

Beat change, it's a Cool-a-Dre thing
That'll move your thang, thang
Remove your ring, change the sound
Get your jewels all sweated up, the booze is deaded up
Anything goes bring it back, if you just catchin' up
The sound coming outta the club, that's wassup
And they let you up, finally, dancing it up
Movin' around, DJ Keith, I need that sound

That new shit, that hot shit
Make you move shit, what's that sound?
That move crowds, that new sound
Make you can kick down, who's that chick?
That's Angie, them Bambi's
Screamin' Angie, what's that sound?
And this Missy gettin' tipsy off the whiskey

2002 be sceered, 'cause I'm runnin' this shit this year
Haters 'n haters you better be clear
Or you'll be kissin' my pussy on the rear
What I'm talking 'bout, with my filthy mouth, from the dirty South
Is a drug drop, c'mon, check me out
Ain't nobody does it easy seezy
And ain't nobody got the dick to sling me
Goddamn, what's that sound?
Didn't I tell you I'm about to shake it down?

I'm no punk but a killa like Cam
Get on the flo', yes, yes mam
When I show up the club get cram
Insecure, bitch, watch yo man
Me and Ang like butter on toast
I don't mean to boast but we do, I need that, yea

That new shit, that hot shit
Make you move shit, what's that sound?
That move crowds, that new sound
Make you can kick down, who's that chick?
That's Angie, them Bambi's
Screamin' Angie, what's that sound?
And this Missy gettin' tipsy off the whiskey

Hello, oh, oh, that's my ears ringing
I'm sitting here thinking that sound is still bangin'
As we leavin' the spot, I'm still drinking
Gotta leave 'cause the cops are still waiting
So we circle the block, as we workin' to blot
Then purposely watch, we so blingin'
And the truck is bright, light up the night, blinking
As we stuck in the chair feel like we sinking

That sound still drowned the air waves
The echo in my head feel like a bear cave
So I sit back to the sound of this track
Playin' on my way home, I can't forget that
That beat when you hear from the street
Make you wanna get on the floor and don't even speak
'Cause it don't even matter who be around
Get and that's DJ Keith playin' that sound

That new shit, that hot shit
Make you move shit, what's that sound?
That move crowds, that new sound
Make you can kick down, who's that chick?
That's Angie, them Bambi's
Screamin' Angie, what's that sound?
And this Missy gettin' tipsy off the whiskey

That new shit, that hot shit
Make you move shit, what's that sound?
That move crowds, that new sound
Make you can kick down, who's that chick?
That's Angie, them Bambi's
Screamin' Angie, what's that sound?
And this Missy gettin' tipsy off the whiskey

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cfe34be5177f37707c9be17602883a6b

Fight Music - Lyrics - Eminem

Title: Fight Music
Artist: Eminem
Composer(s): Von Carlisle, Ondre Moore, Rufus Johnson, Marshall Mathers, Deshaun Holton, Denaun Porter, Michael Elizondo, Andre Young

Lyric:
This kind of music, use it and you get amped to do shit
Whenever you hear some shit and you can't refuse it
It's just some shit for these kids to trash they rooms with
Just refuse whenever they asked to do shit

The type of shit that you don't have to ask who produced it
You just know that's the new shit
The type of shit that causes mass confusion
And drastic movement of people actin' stupid

I come to every club with intention to do harm
With a prosthetic arm and smellin' like Boone's Farm
Hidin' under tables as soon as I hear alarms
Paranoid thief that'll steal from his own moms

Connivin' Kon, Artis with a bomb
Strapped to my stomach screamin', "Let's get it on"
A lush that love to drink, drunk drivin' a tank
Rollin' over a bank, cops see me and faint

It's drastic, I'm past my limit of coke
I think I'll up my high by slittin' your throat
Push your baby carriage into the street 'til it's mince meat
Your mens been beat the minute I step onto your street
This is fight music

You know why my hands are so numb? No
'Cause my grandmother sucked my dick and I didn't come, oh
Smacked this whore for talkin' crap, bitch
So what if she's handicapped, the bitch said Bizarre couldn't rap

I fuckin' hate you, I'll take your drawers down and rape you
While Dr. Dre videotapes you, hell yeah
Satan done got me on this song
Eatin' a hot dog readin' the Holy Quran while I'm on the John

Tired of wearin' this yellow thong
Take it back Sisqo, you know where it belongs, thong, thong, thong
Now here's a gun, I'll put it in your palm
Now go over there and blow up Dru Hill's arms, fuck your love songs

This kind of music, use it and you get amped to do shit
Whenever you hear some shit and you can't refuse it
It's just some shit for these kids to trash they rooms with
Just refuse whenever they asked to do shit

The type of shit that you don't have to ask who produced it
You just know that's the new shit
The type of shit that causes mass confusion
And drastic movement of people actin' stupid

Just bring who you gon' bring on, who you gon' swing on?
I'm King Kong, guns blow you to kingdom come
Show you machine gun funk
Sixteen m-16's and one pump, click-clack

The snub in my paw, shove it in your jaw
Have you runnin' out this fuckin' club in your drawers
We lovin' the broads, there's nothin' to applaud
But fuck it it's all good, the hood is up in The Source, it's fight music

I'm a nigga that loves scuffles
And won't hesitate to sock you again for swollen knuckles
I'm like that, catch a nigga like bear traps
Blow his head back right in front of the priest sayin', "You hear that?"

I slap your freak, bump you and won't speak
If you step on my feet, you get drowned in your own drink
I suffocated my shrink just for talkin', came back and fucked up
His pallbearers and made 'em drop his coffin, it's fight music

These beads I'm swingin' is stingin' 'em
See all these niggaz? When I step in the club, I'm bringin' 'em
If any nigga lookin' too hard, we Rodney King 'n 'em
Malice green to them and gasolinin' 'em with premium

Light a cigarette, flick it at 'em or spit it at 'em
Hold up a picture of his family and kick it at him
Blast while you right hookin', right when your wife's lookin'
Fuck fight music, bitch this is losin' your life music

If I could capture the rage of today's youth and bottle it
Crush the glass from my bare hands and swallow it
Then spit it back in the faces of you racists
And hypocrites who think the same shit but don't say shit

You Liberace's, Versace's and you Nazis
Watch me 'cause you thinkin' you got me in this hot seat
You motherfuckers wanna judge me 'cause you're not me
You'll never stop me, I'm top speed as you pop me

I came to save these new generations of babies
From parents who failed to raise 'em 'cause they're lazy
To grow to praise me, I'm makin' 'em go crazy
That's how I got this whole nation to embrace me

And you fugazi if you think I'ma admit wrong
I cripple any hypocritic critic I'm sic'd on
And this song is for any kid who gets picked on
A sick song to retaliate to and it's called

This kind of music, use it and you get amped to do shit
Whenever you hear some shit and you can't refuse it
It's just some shit for these kids to trash they rooms with
Just refuse whenever they asked to do shit

The type of shit that you don't have to ask who produced it
You just know that's the new shit
The type of shit that causes mass confusion
And drastic movement of people actin' stupid, it's fight music

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4a8fecda359f37bbd69feb3c455addef

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

Dogs Out - Lyrics - Grand Champ - Dmx

Title: Dogs Out
Album: Grand Champ
Artist: Dmx
Composer(s): Ralph Bass, Lowman Pauling, Earl Simmons, Kanye Omari West

Lyric:
This is dedicated to
This is dedicated to
The streets
This is dedicated to

And the dog is out, arf arf arf arf
And the dog is out, arf arf arf arf
And the dog is out, arf arf arf arf
It's just D
And the dog is out

Started gettin' a little too big for the cage that I been trapped in
Cats new it was a problem, went from robbin' to rappin'
Guns got the clappin', another trip to the morgue
We all know why it's happenin', another bit by the dog
When there's nothin' left to eat, I ate away at my soul
Felt destructive 'cause I don't give a fuck if I go
I know y'all been told I don't give a fuck about livin'
Killin' other dogs, got you cats chasin' bitches

Got me itchin' to bring back the beast from within
What I catch I'ma eat, in the streets I'ma win
I've been top dog and I'ma gonna stay top dog
So what the fuck you got to say dog?
You cats play games that dog ain't with
Suck my dick, behind my back dog ain't shit
Well this is it, from now on if you ain't out the camp
We out to clamp, put 'em up against the champ
You bitch

And the dog is out, arf arf arf arf
And the dog is out, arf arf arf arf
And the dog is out, arf arf arf arf
It's just D
And the dog is out, c'mon c'mon

And the dog is out, arf arf arf arf
And the dog is out, arf arf arf arf
And the dog is out, arf arf arf arf
It's just D
And the dog is out, c'mon c'mon

I don't think you cats see too clearly
If it ain't that you must be deaf
'Cause y'all niggaz don't hear me
But I know I got you scared to death
How many other niggaz you know
When you see 'em make you hold your breath?
All a nigga did was take a pause
Did a couple of movies and you thought
This whole rap shit was yours?

Stop being greedy
When was the last time you gave to the needy?
Believe me, I run through niggaz
Like hallways with the cops behind
Give it to a nigga all day cause I pops the nine
Man listen, if you don't wanna see your man missin'
Man listen, I get dough like a nigga in a up north flick
And still roll like a nigga on some up north shit
The way dog flip out, cats'll never understand
Niggaz be like "X, I thought I was your man!"
Not!

And the dog is out, arf arf arf arf
And the dog is out, arf arf arf arf
And the dog is out, arf arf arf arf
It's just D
And the dog is out, c'mon c'mon

This is dedicated to
This is dedicated to
The streets
This is dedicated to

My dogs, is dogs that love to brawl
Bring as many as you got cause we gon fuck 'em all
Dick sucked in the hall
The same shorty thats puttin' any work on her knees
I'm duckin' her call
A dog is a dog, is a dog for life
Dog been a dog, dogging your wife
I got kids this age
But let 'em keep talkin' slick
And I'm gon' put somethin' hot up in his ribcage

And the dog is out, arf arf arf arf
And the dog is out, arf arf arf arf
And the dog is out, arf arf arf arf
It's just D
And the dog is out, c'mon c'mon

And the dog is out, arf arf arf arf
And the dog is out, arf arf arf arf
And the dog is out, arf arf arf arf
It's just D
And the dog is out, c'mon c'mon

And the dog is out, arf arf arf arf
And the dog is out, arf arf arf arf
And the dog is out, arf arf arf arf
It's just D
And the dog is out, c'mon c'mon

And the dog is out
And the dog is out
And the dog is out
It's just D
And the dog is out

When the dog is out
Bitch ass niggaz get bit or fucked
One of the two, and I'm not Ja Rule
Feel me? Aight

And the dog is out
And the dog is out
And the dog is out
It's just D
And the dog is out

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0f15249938bea4fbdf026062fdb7ee4a

Not Tonight (Remix) - Lyrics - Lil' Kim

Title: Not Tonight (Remix)
Artist: Lil' Kim
Composer(s): Meekaaeel Muhammed, George Brown, M Elliot, Claydes Smith, Robert Bell, Ronald Bell, Dennis Thomas, L Lopez, James Taylor, Earl Toon, Kimberly Jones, A Martinez, S Harris

Lyric:
Uhh {dice thrown} yeah
Uhh, here's another one, and another one
Yeah
Lil' kim, the queen bee

It's ladies night what, it must be angie on the mic
The butter p honey got the sugar got the spice
Roll the l's tight, keep the rhymes right
Yo I just made this motherfucker up last night
And uhh I'm the rookie on this all-star team
Me and kim is gettin cream, like thelma and louise
But on chrome, never leave that brooklyn shit alone
So if you say it's on then it's on
Bang this in your whips
Pack em call the roadie with the chips in the wrists
Here's a french kiss *kissing sound*
I dismissed all you chicks split six from the four-fifth
Make you dance, ooowwww
I stay focused, in the dopest
Like a penny with a hole in it, y'all just hopeless
And toke this, I ain't lye-in
Niggaz tryin to knock me off, keep tryin
All it takes is one phone call to my street team
Promote that ass, like a soundtrack new jack ci-tay
Set it off with the eighty-fitay
Y'all missin the buck, with the fuck
Bump biggie in the trunk and the buck to my thorough bitches
Lemme see ya do tha bankhead if ya richest
It's the rap mae west to q-b
And I got all my sisters with me

Oh this is ladies night, and our rhymes is tight
Oh this is ladies night, oh what a night (oh what a night)
Oh this is ladies night, and the feel is right
Oh this is ladies night, oh what a night (oh what a night)

Uhh, never the one, packin a gun
Got some other raw chicks for that, lay your ass flat
I be the one chockin ya paragraphs, with laughs
Getcha back up on the right path
Ain't no stoppin me ladies from club hoppin gets my rock on
From flavors still frozen at paradise joint
Booty shakin with the glass in my left one
Right hand sayin step-son
To me my girls is fancy fly bitches
Too my niggaz straight snitches, to them other chicos
Lady pimp ain't havin that shit
If you ain't got the cash to stash, suck my dick hoes
Strictly a bell ringer
Lay another finger on this big bad one miss lady rap singer
I be the one to blame as the flames keep risin
To the top and it don't stop

Oh this is ladies night, and our rhymes is tight
Oh this is ladies night, oh what a night (oh what a night)
Oh this is ladies night, and the feel is right
Oh this is ladies night, oh what a night (oh what a night)

Y'all see, how these bogus niggaz try not to notice the dopest bitches
Approachin with good intentions but focusin on they riches
If it's, too hot then get the fuck up out the kitchen
Niggaz dicks, stay lifted when they thinkin of me
Cause the rhythm I kick, puzzle them like arithe-ma-tic
Fillin em with, sluggers off the nine milli luger click
Bitches bust, we just, keep kickin up dust
And you can spread rumors shit is makin me sicker than head tumors
Humor me, by huggin me sayin you lovin me
Playa phony niggaz be buggin, I can tell
Cause the thug in me wanna sell drugs and push keys
Need to get me mo' of deez, vv's and m3's
Smoke weed from overseas pimped out styled rol-eys
Fuck the police keep my wallet obese
Who the, windy city woman still still comin and gunnin
Straight from the chi
Tonight's the night for all the ladies, let's get high

Oh this is ladies night, and our rhymes is tight
Oh this is ladies night, oh what a night (oh what a night)
Oh this is ladies night, and the feel is right
Oh this is ladies night, oh what a night (oh what a night)

Aiyyo kim, heheh, yaknowhati'msayin ?
I ain't even gon' leave without sayin sun'un on this track
You ain't gonna use me to just be singin hooks
What I look like?
Patti labelle or somebody nigga? heheh
Check it out, uh huh, yeah
Oh what a night
You should be like missy 'stead of bein like mike
I like to ride pony's instead of ridin bikes
Me and lil' kim got the rhymes to incite
I gotta catch a flight
Aheheh, round three and shit
Niggaz can't see us from elektra to undeas
Aaaaoooowwww niggaz wanna be us
Heh I'm out he, ooh
*Ladies night, ladies night *

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Not Tonight - Lyrics - Hardcore - Lil' Kim

Title: Not Tonight
Album: Hardcore
Artist: Lil' Kim
Composer(s): George Brown, Meekaaeel Muhammed, Melissa Elliott, Claydes Smith, Robert Bell, Ronald Bell, Lisa Lopes, Angie Martinez, Dennis Thomas, James Taylor, Earl Toon, Kimberly Jones, Shawnlae Harris

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Lyric:
Uhh {dice thrown} yeah
Uhh, here's another one, and another one
Yeah
Lil' Kim, the Queen Bee

It's ladies night what, it must be Angie on the mic
The Butter P honey got the sugar got the spice
Roll the L's tight, keep the rhymes right
Yo I just made this motherfucker up last night
And uhh I'm the rookie on this all-star team
Me and Kim is gettin cream, like Thelma and Louise
But on chrome, never leave that Brooklyn shit alone
So if you say it's on then it's on

Bang this in your whips
Pack em call the roadie with the chips in the wrists
Here's a french kiss *kissing sound*
I dismissed all you chicks split six from the four-fifth
Make you dance, ooowwww
I stay focused, in the dopest
Like a penny with a hole in it, y'all just hopeless
And toke this, I ain't lye-in
Niggaz tryin to knock me off, keep tryin
All it takes is one phone call to my street team
Promote that ass, like a soundtrack New Jack Ci-tay
Set It Off with the eighty-fitay
Y'all missin the buck, with the fuck
Bump Biggie in the trunk and the buck to my thorough bitches
Lemme see ya do tha bankhead if ya richest
It's the rap Mae West to Q-B
And I got all my sisters with me

Oh this is ladies night, and our rhymes is tight
Oh this is ladies night, oh what a night (oh what a night)
Oh this is ladies night, and the feel is right
Oh this is ladies night, oh what a night (oh what a night

Uhh, never the one, packin a gun
Got some other raw chicks for that, lay your ass flat
I be the one chockin ya paragraphs, with laughs
Getcha back up on the right path
Ain't no stoppin me ladies from club hoppin gets my rock on
From flavors still frozen at Paradise joint
Booty shakin with the glass in my left one
Right hand sayin step-son
To me my girls is fancy fly bitches
Too my niggaz straight snitches, to them other chicos
Lady pimp ain't havin that shit
If you ain't got the cash to stash, suck my dick hoes
Strictly a bell ringer
Lay another finger on this big bad one miss lady rap singer
I be the one to blame as the flames keep risin
To the top and it don't stop

Oh this is ladies night, and our rhymes is tight
Oh this is ladies night, oh what a night (oh what a night)
Oh this is ladies night, and the feel is right
Oh this is ladies night, oh what a night (oh what a night

Y'all see, how these bogus niggaz try not to notice the dopest bitches
Approachin with good intentions but focusin on they riches
If it's, too hot then get the fuck up out the kitchen
Niggaz dicks, stay lifted when they thinkin of me
Cause the rhythm I kick, puzzle them like arithe-ma-tic
Fillin em with, sluggers off the nine milli luger click
Bitches bust, we just, keep kickin up dust
And you can spread rumors shit is makin me sicker than head tumors
Humor me, by huggin me sayin you lovin me
Playa phony niggaz be buggin, I can tell
Cause the thug in me wanna sell drugs and push keys
Need to get me mo' of deez, VV's and M3's
Smoke weed from overseas pimped out styled Rol-eys
Fuck the police keep my wallet obese
Who the, Windy City woman still still comin and gunnin
Straight from the Chi
Tonight's the night for all the ladies, let's get high

Oh this is ladies night, and our rhymes is tight
Oh this is ladies night, oh what a night (oh what a night)
Oh this is ladies night, and the feel is right
Oh this is ladies night, oh what a night (oh what a night

Aiyyo Kim, heheh, yaknowhatI'msayin ?
I ain't even gon' leave without sayin sun'un on this track
You ain't gonna use me to just be singin hooks
What I look like?
Patti LaBelle or somebody nigga? Heheh
Check it out, uh huh, yeah

Oh what a night
You should be like Missy 'stead of bein like Mike
I like to ride pony's instead of ridin bikes
Me and Lil' Kim got the rhymes to incite
I gotta catch a flight
Aheheh, round three and shit
Niggaz can't see us from Elektra to Undeas
Aaaaoooowwww niggaz wanna be us
Heh I'm out he, ooh

*Ladies night, ladies night *

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This Is What It Is - Lyrics - Hip-Hop Lives - Krs One

Title: This Is What It Is
Album: Hip-Hop Lives
Artist: Krs One
Composer(s): Marlon Williams, Lawrence Krisna Parker

Lyric:
We keep showin' you and showin' you and showin' you
This is what it is
We gon' flow with you, you know it's true, hip-hop
This is what it is

We keep showin' you and showin' you and showin' you
This is what it is
We gon' flow with you, you know it's true, hip-hop
This is what it is

A man once said that the streets are watchin' us
If this be the truth we must keep hip-hop in us
They'll never topple us, you done heard them thugs
Now, it's time to hear from the philosophers

Buildings fallin', employment stallin' us
Now, it's time, the future is callin' us
Television is boring us, radio is whorin' us
Lurin' us with a chorus plus, you can't even trust

The church, the synagogue, they all deceivin' us
It's time to believe in us
To believe in a hip-hop lifestyle that agrees with us
No squeeze or bust, bo, bo, you find ease with us

The DJ's, the MC's is us
The ice we've seen enough
It's time for hip-hop and this is what it is

We keep showin' you and showin' you and showin' you
This is what it is
We gon' flow with you, you know it's true, hip-hop
This is what it is

We keep showin' you and showin' you and showin' you
This is what it is
We gon' flow with you, you know it's true, hip-hop
This is what it is

You know we lead a movement
It's called 'I am hip-hop'
Cats debate about it, but I am hip-hop
Cats wanna talk about but I am hip-hop

My cats in New York like "I am hip-hop"
My cats in Atlanta like "I am hip-hop"
Cats in Miami like "I am hip-hop"
Chi-Town like "I am hip-hop"
All over L.A., "I am hip-hop"

Keep the rawness, the gutter the real
The movement's growin' like corn in the field
KRS-One was born with the steel
I'm on top of my game like Shaquille O'Neal

No surprises, hip-hop come in all sizes
Now, watch as KRS rises up, up, up, up and away
Now, you critics mouth shut, got nothin' to say
And that's good for the kids, 'cause hip-hop
This is what it is

We keep showin' you and showin' you and showin' you
This is what it is
We gon' flow with you, you know it's true, hip-hop
This is what it is

We keep showin' you and showin' you and showin' you
This is what it is
We gon' flow with you, you know it's true, hip-hop
This is what it is

Stay focused, focused
Stay focused oh, oh
Yeah, uh-huh, focused
Yo, look, look, this is what it is

Y'all need to stop confusin' the kids
Makin' 'em think you gotta do a bid to be hip-hop
Man that ain't it
Rob a nigga, kill a nigga, man that ain't shit

How you figure, how murder make you hip?
You need to hop to the bookstore and look for Kris
Anything by KRS-One
Will lead you to peace, to love, to unity and havin' fun

Y'all know but some of y'all don't
And some of y'all won't that's why only some of y'all dope
The rest of y'all, food for the Gods
I eat everything but Pop's 'cause I don't eat lard

We keep showin' you and showin' you and showin' you
This is what it is
We gon' flow with you, you know it's true, hip-hop
This is what it is

We keep showin' you and showin' you and showin' you
This is what it is
We gon' flow with you, you know it's true, hip-hop
This is what it is, is

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