Tracks In The Dust - Lyrics - David Crosby

Title: Tracks In The Dust
Artist: David Crosby
Composer(s): David Crosby

Lyric:
Four of us were having dinner
And I threw down the paper with a curse
And my wife said, "Complaining doesn't get it
You got to do something or you can bet it
Will get worse"

And my friend said, "You've been watching TV too much
And all that hippie hopefulness is just a crutch"
But if thinkin' that way helps you
To make it through the night
Then who am I to say what's wrong and right

But I think, we're passing through here kind of fast
Did you think these tracks in the dust would last

I think, we're passing through here kind of fast
Did you think these tracks in the dust would last

So you think we should just sit here
And have another glass of wine
While the world goes to hell
Which you know damn well
It's going to do just down the line

And his lady said, "I don't know how can you be so sure
I mean some things seem to get better
You know the hero still saves the
Damsel in distress, the villain doesn't get her
And I said, "Where have you been living
I mean they're selling death in the streets"

Cheap and the lying politicians
Are rolling in the profits they reap.
And he said, "He's right honey
But I think it's always been that way"
And he smiled kind of patiently
And I knew he was going to say

I think, we're passing through here kind of fast
Did you think these tracks in the dust would last

I think, we're passing through here kind of fast
Did you think these tracks in the dust would last

I think, we're passing through here kind of fast

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3e62fb9248c8ac36dbdc84d8e60125e4

The Player Way - Lyrics - Mase

Title: The Player Way
Artist: Mase
Composer(s): T Jones, Premro Smith, Mason Betha, Marlin J Goodwin

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

Lyric:
No one expected the unexpected, yanawumsaying?
Something real, something you could feel
Straight from the Suave House
Representing
Put a little soul in here
And we don't stop

No one has to ask who be actin' bad
Eightball and MJ pimpin' G be all up in that ass
From Memphis Tenn, around the world and than back again
Make non-rappin' weak MC's go home practicing

I flip a Benz, will Lorenzo play and plenty Benjamins
Low key, plenty ends makes plenty friends
Baby, I got all the herbs that I need to chief
Smoke up a pound and leave you bitch niggas in disbelief

Inhale the smoke and every word, I wrote came out dope
Not like that crack, I being lyrical dope above tracks
Not sayin' I won't pull the Rueger and put hollow to ya
Have yo' mama on her knees screamin' Hallelujeh

Lay it down playa, Suave House, Bad Boy, Fat Boy
And her friends the Rat-A-Tat boy
Matter of fact boy, this is not a act boy
The player way, keep the player makin' stacks boy

Everything that I do be all about the loot
I been kickin' up dust in my Polo boots
Gettin' blowed on the droll, takin' smoke up my nose
I give the world to a woman, but I don't love hoes

I'm a player, baby, and don't you forget
You need to get with it, let me hit it and split it
In the bed, on the floor, hot tub, everyday
The player way, the player way

Now on, on, break o' dawn, can't stop, I'm too hot
Look shit, my niggas rock, hype man be in the drop
Me no care if the B's be tinted, you won't see me in it
'Less there's TV's in it

I can tell by the way you talk and the way you chit-chat
You foul and if you had styles, you wouldn't get back
You thinkin' you invincible, you ain't hard to get at
I know everywhere you go, everywhere you live at

I be wanna click-clack and you be ready to get back
I be ready to go to war, you ain't gon' be with that
You be the same cat that I run up on and spit at
Bleedin' all crazy and don't know where you hit at

I'm dead up, niggas doin' drama better shut up, I'm fed up
Know for my Roley, I was set up
I can't let up, you in some shit that don't concern you
Send a bullet through your thermal, you know crazy

Everything that I do be all about the loot
I been kickin' up dust in my Polo boots
Gettin' blowed on the droll, takin' smoke up my nose
I give the world to a woman, but I don't love hoes

I'm a player, baby, and don't you forget
You need to get with it, let me hit it and split it
In the bed, on the floor, hot tub, everyday
The player way, the player way

I've been waiting 20 minutes baby, now drop yo' drawers
And do something outstandin' with yo jaws
After all this waitin', I can see clean through yo' forehead
You mo' said than done, give mo' head than some

Throw my jacket down in the puddle, hell no
If you don't know a pimp, somebody besta tell y'all
Yeah, the women say it's good to have a confidant
But yet and still they give it up to pimps, once a month

See a lot of these pimp lovers, they took they K-man
Front like they real and hold a fake in, you wastin' the time
Serious ballas and ready hoes, got da women walkin'
Dibs on da strip with steady toes

As I pull up, cranking is thinking the bigger fat, natural expertise
Plenty money workin' for G and whoever next to me
And I ain't gonna rest till we made a statement
I'm straight up you want it down? It's time for a replacement

Everything that I do be all about the loot
I been kickin' up dust in my Polo boots
Gettin' blowed on the droll, takin' smoke up my nose
I give the world to a woman, but I don't love hoes

I'm a player, baby, and don't you forget
You need to get with it, let me hit it and split it
In the bed, on the floor, hot tub, everyday
The player way, the player way

Everything that I do be all about the loot
I been kickin' up dust in my Polo boots
Gettin' blowed on the droll, takin' smoke up my nose
I give the world to a woman, but I don't love hoes

I'm a player, baby, and don't you forget
You need to get with it, let me hit it and split it
In the bed, on the floor, hot tub, everyday
The player way, the player way

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037e8c5268a4f97da879d8ffeb49b11f

Smokescreen - Lyrics - Mobile Estates - Citizen King

Title: Smokescreen
Album: Mobile Estates
Artist: Citizen King
Composer(s): Matthew John Sims, David J. Cooley

Lyric:
On the run like a bandit, I'm on the loose now
You eat the dust and you taste the puppy chow
This ain't no standstill, hold up
Captain Crunch, a desperado, I take you out to lunch

I'll gank your milk money, honey, it's a royal treatment
No tracks out back in the wet cement
A broke tooth and a phone booth
And a change of clothes 'cause everyone knows

I get mean in the smokescreen
I get mean in the smokescreen
I get mean in the smokescreen
Half time going on the crime scene

I get mean in the smokescreen
I get mean in the smokescreen
I get mean in the smokescreen
Half time going over crime scene

Operation down low, you call your hero
But like sweet back I got no afro
I'm coming dark creepin' in your alley
Watch your eyes as I make a quick getaway

You gonna trap me, slingshot happy
Spider web window with a fatal blow
A broke tooth and a phone booth
And a change of clothes 'cause everyone knows

I get mean in the smokescreen
I get mean in the smokescreen
I get mean in the smokescreen
Half time going on the crime scene

I get mean in the smokescreen
I get mean in the smokescreen
I get mean in the smokescreen
Half a time down at the crime scene
Half a time down at the crime scene

I get mean in the smokescreen
I get mean in the smokescreen
I get mean
Half time going on the crime scene

I get mean in the smokescreen
I get mean in the smokescreen
I get mean
Half time going on the crime scene

I get mean
I get mean
I get mean
I get mean
Half time going on the crime scene

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1f6dc7641dc821194e044155f6ec4b66

Cowboy Cadillac - Lyrics - Confederate Railroad

Title: Cowboy Cadillac
Artist: Confederate Railroad
Composer(s): Craig Wiseman, Danny M Wells

Lyric:
Well Deke's got a Ford, Hank's got a Chevy
Booger's got a beat-up Dodge
Well they fight like the devil over which one's better
Fridays at the Moose Head Lodge

Just a friendly chatter 'cause it really don't matter
When it comes to the model or make
Now they're all the same no matter what name's
Underneath the mud on the ol' tailgate

It's a Cowboy Cadillac, mud grips, gun rack
Factory four-on-the-floor
A quarter tank of gas and a spare in the back
Lord who could ever ask for more

Sitting up high as the world goes by
Kicking-up dust in your tracks
It's a matter of pride as a matter of fact to
Them folks that ride in them Cowboy Cadillacs

Now Bobby Jean Cordell dreams 'bout wedding bells
Ringing in her life one day
And a fine young man armed with a wedding band
Stealing her heart away

But when the 'I do's' done and the songs are sung
And she finally gets to kiss the groom
It ain't a white Limousine in her wildest dreams
Hauling her away on a honeymoon

It's a Cowboy Cadillac, mud grips, gun rack
Factory four-on-the-floor
A quarter tank of gas and a spare in the back
Lord who could ever ask for more

Sitting up high as the world goes by
Kicking-up dust in your tracks
It's a matter of pride as a matter of fact to
Them folks that ride in them Cowboy Cadillacs

Now a lot of my friends are folks like them
I feel I know them well enough to say
They've got a parking space at the pearly gates
When they run out of road some day

Now I hesitate to speculate
About the workings of those heavenly things
But when they meet the Lord for the just reward
I bet instead of a pair of angel wings

They get a Cowboy Cadillac, mud grips, gun rack
Factory four-on-the-floor
A quarter tank of gas and a spare in the back
Lord who could ever ask for more

Sitting up high as the world goes by
Kicking-up dust in your tracks
It's a matter of pride as a matter of fact to
Them folks that ride in them Cowboy Cadillacs
It's a matter of pride as a matter of fact to
Them folks that ride in them Cowboy Cadillacs

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c928110efc2a23b63c0bac587b1330f6

Ra - Stick Up - Lyrics - Afu

Title: Ra - Stick Up
Artist: Afu
Composer(s): Curtis Small, Aaron Phillip, A Hardy

Lyric:
Fuck playin' games, I start takin' names
Shake ya frame, time to start payin' Kane
Don't make me have to take it there and start sayin' names

Give you official in the middle initial
Yes' we do the thang, don't care who we bang
Quick to bring the belt out on cats like pootytang
I'm that, new we in, mighty supreme being
Names that you thought had heart, but seen fleeing

Rap sire, never tire, call me Messiah
I walk bare foot on hot coals below fire
The type to floss the teeth with barb wire
The type to cross the street in the cross fire

Survivor, not stuck in a job, metaphysical
Go ask your mother, yeah, do what you wanna do
Now we can go shot for shot, verse for verse
Worse gets worse, I put you in a hearse

('Cause it's a stick up)
Honey's wanna back it up, thugs wanna bag it up, no need to act up
('Cause it's a stick up)
Got it rapped up, got it cracked up
Get your hands high, up in the air before you get slapped up
('Cause it's a stick up)
Honey's wanna back it up, thugs wanna bag it up, no need to act up
('Cause it's a stick up)
Got it rapped up, got it cracked up
Hands in the air, before you get slapped up

Now hit 'em up, knock 'em in the bread basket
You get dap quick fucking with my mack shit
Around the corner cats with four faces
They scheme and plot, I'm like one shot block
Mass producer, my lyrics is cereal juices

I'm breakin' out tonight, I'm makin' moves kid
Gain collateral, matter of fact it's true
Your beef'll stop when my judo chop chop

We can do it any you want, let's get it on
So, say ya blessings unless you know your lessons
If you do, baby, you better yell those off

Feel these elbows, run those shell toes
Slip a not at all, don't bust one shot at all
Because I go with extra strength like Tylenol
Once connected with Afu, and you know we attack
Come together like Kobe and Shaq

('Cause it's a stick up)
Honey's wanna back it up, thugs wanna bag it up, no need to act up
('Cause it's a stick up)
Got it rapped up, got it cracked up
Get your hands high, up in the air before you get slapped up
('Cause it's a stick up)
Honey's wanna back it up, thugs wanna bag it up, no need to act up
('Cause it's a stick up)
Got it rapped up, got it cracked up
Hands in the air, before you get slapped up

A to the F to the U, to the R to the A
I pull out steel on tracks like everyday
Guess who spray, keep the name shook over here
Play your plee's, just a crook over here

Look over there, cat's is sittin' pretty with the chilly-willy
Cover me son, yo I'm gettin' busy
Yo, we prepare for anything that transpire
Keep ya mouth closed when I pass fire

Slap fire out ya ass 'cuz you gettin' too gas
I know my math and I mix it with the razzel-taz
Hide your bling, bling, you ain't down with God
And all the wolves know you left without your body guards

How could it not be hard, we swell dee-sel
Pee-pel feel hell, neck and back like e-zell
Niggas wanna re-bail, follow the dust to the mist
Come and get it, now who's fuckin' with this?

('Cause it's a stick up)
Honey's wanna back it up, thugs wanna bag it up, no need to act up
('Cause it's a stick up)
Got it rapped up, got it cracked up
Get your hands high, up in the air before you get slapped up
('Cause it's a stick up)
Honey's wanna back it up, thugs wanna bag it up, no need to act up
('Cause it's a stick up)
Got it rapped up, got it cracked up
Hands in the air, before you get slapped up

('Cause it's a stick up)
Honey's wanna back it up, thugs wanna bag it up, no need to act up
('Cause it's a stick up)
Got it rapped up, got it cracked up
Get your hands high, up in the air before you get slapped up
('Cause it's a stick up)
Honey's wanna back it up, thugs wanna bag it up, no need to act up
('Cause it's a stick up)
Got it rapped up, got it cracked up
Hands in the air, before you get slapped up

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Legend Of The Liquid Sword - Lyrics - The Genius Gza

Title: Legend Of The Liquid Sword
Artist: The Genius Gza
Composer(s): J Burks, Gary Grice

Lyric:
Who won the covenant role, based on a nationwide poll?
For the grip tells told and rap scrolls
Perfect pitch for language that's built within
Where half the rap ink couldn't hold my pen
Meanin' when MC's came, to live out the name
They signed the documents with the, blood of the slain
Far removed from this hip hop life, off course
But the confidence and resilience was never lost

In the think thank and research lab, I laid tracks
Seen work rule my life but it never broke my back
Destiny forever shake from the events to come
From the father and the chemical contents of the sun
A solid gold figure with a verse that glitters
Until the platinum beat comes increasingly bitter

They joined in a likely alliance with the rest
Schemin' with unsuccessful in a zealous quest
We all see, with a degree of certainty
Who the fake, cowardly cats behind the curtains be
They hunt, for the skin, flesh, the blood, and bones
In front, want to impress with studded stones

Now who's the man who brought you the legend of the liquid swords?
Rap critics say 'Damn' you're sick with yours'
4th chamber and the shadowboxin' too
That nigga be the GZA from Wu
And if you don't know
About the piroclastic flow
Hotter than the spark that made it blow
You better recognize, recognize

Why U-N-I-verse run like clock works forever?
Words pulled together, sudden change in the weather
The nature and the scale of events don't make sense
A storm with no warnin' you're drawn in, environments
Gravity that's gone mad, clouds of dust and debris
Moving at colossal speeds, they crush an MC

Since this rap region is heavily packed with stars
Internal mirror in the telescope, noticed the Czar
From far away, they blink as the lightnin' strolled
Great distance of space between precise globes
That travel in a circle of order
Like the tape in your cassette recorder
Filled with cult for slaughter
Meaning the contracts manifestly work

The hitman for hire, weapon in his hand he lurks
In spite of the strange appearance he laid a clearance
On his target through a crowded market no interference
The microphone left on the scene without a serial
Evidence consistent with organic material
Surprisingly, as we marched lively with great size and degree
Till it spread widely

Now who's the man who brought you the legend of the liquid swords?
Rap critics say 'Damn' you're sick with yours'
4th chamber and the shadowboxin' too
That nigga be the GZA from Wu
And if you don't know
About the piroclastic flow
Hotter than the spark that made it blow
You better recognize, recognize

Yeah, yeah, GZA, yeah

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Three The Hard Way - Lyrics - Jermaine Dupri

Title: Three The Hard Way
Artist: Jermaine Dupri
Composer(s): Rahman Griffin, Altorre Randolph, David Walker, Jermaine Dupri, David Blake

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

Lyric:
See Quick, I told you man, once we get a beat man
Shit like this right here
I got my nigga Black for me, uh
I got my nigga R.O.C. for me, uh

And y'all know who the fuck I be
And for a long time, I think niggaz been taking so so Def for a joke
But I guess that's why we rich
And y'all niggaz broke

Y'all got one chance to flow, I let y'all know
While y'all stretch your mouth, I stretch my dough
Also stretch the doors on my Navigators
Long as the Olajuwon

Rock mine, a Phenomenon Mr. Smith style
You wanna get, uh, oh, here he is now
Dot to the O caughted, blow your shit down
Dot to the C, you're feelin' me now?

Anyhow y'all niggaz can't measure up
I'm here to get my cheddar and who ever mess it up?
Then I'mma blow these rounds out, wet 'em up
For my dawgs like DMX who pound like Kurupt

And Snoopy in the club getting at the groupies
Stash the uzi tonight, flash the jewelry
And just post up we can't be touched
All my niggaz say, "What we don't give a fuck?

B-boy style, hot like tical
Four, five cal, check into the profile of a killa
Sonny Black my mellow, my ace playa get on the
Microphone and rock it please

I'm make y'all niggaz feel the heat homie
None of y'all motherfuckers know me
Three times a niggaz like T.O.N.Y.
All up in your spot like Navy Seals, wave your steel

Lay your shit down, clown, I'm for real
Spittin' Crips for chips, plant bombs in your whip
I bring the pain to the game on the real tip what?
Hittin' niggaz just like JFK

For the pounds and the bricks and yay, hear what I say?
Squeezing off, just to mash and releasing off
Y'all motherfuckers shouldn't be so soft
Oh, you too type thug niggaz, you'll be so called

Frump niggaz, yo, I got no love, niggaz
Expect the worse, yo, check it, can make you see the hearse
Tell mama I'm about to break the button for the nurse
Niggaz don't want it but they think they do
And soldiers should never fuck with me and my crew, who?

You know I'm gonna make them dance when I step in the club
Well, I know another way to make 'em put their hands up
I drop the beat on, I cock the heat on
I got this party niggaz, we lock the street corners

You know I'm gonna make them dance when I step in the club
Well, I know another way to make 'em put their hands up
I drop the beat on, I cock the heat on
I got this party niggaz, we lock the street corners

Well it come again, the Timbaland lacer
You trembling in the faces, Detroit hates us
Take us, come smooth the hard shit, rock jewelry
Like Mr. Antarctic

Watch an artist, move regardless of the chartless
Cock your automatic
So the safest thing for you to do is shut the fuck up
Let my crew do this, uh, like this niggaz from the bricks and uh

You don't want NWK to get to ya
So you heard we make believers out of dreamers
Now we make murder cases out of sleepers
S to the motherfuckers, O to the S to the y'all damned
O to the D to the E F uck you 'cause we buck you
Y'all niggaz can't touch us

Assume my position 'cause papermaking's a must
Straight mangle motherfuckers when it's time to bust
Lace flows with angel dust, all up in your spot
We got no things with us, kind of dangerous

Don't fuck around and get caught in a verbal onslaught
'Cause I'm label your bills and my man Too $hort , oh, Lord
Getting down one more time
For making motherfuckers, who out on the run

I gotta get mine daily, can't let these motherfuckers fade me
That's just the way my mama made me
Top size rider from the get go, known to spit flows
And keep them niggaz on their tiptoes

I goes to the extremity blind with weed and Hennessey
I know you niggaz don't remember me
Got the flow poetic and I stay diamond setted
Running over tracks like I'm Libyan, here's the past

Labeled a pussy, cash see her bounce
Shaking, moving, waiting, sipping the ounce
What's up with that? None of y'all niggaz can fuck with Black
Motherfucker where's your focus at?
JD, my mellow my ace, get on the mic and come rock, please

Nigga, I feel like why you gon come if ain't on time
And ain't no need in coming out, if you ain't gonna shine
That's why I am like I am with mine and y'all sick
While y'all keep it real, we keep it rich

Just clowning, pounding, riding around in
Some of the most elite shit to ever hit the town
Screaming out how you like me now and I'm gettin' busier
I stay platinum while y'all get dizzier

The difference between y'all is I get 'em out of their seats
And my balling techniques is out of your reach
Live and direct from the Peach State
Where we make hits, deep grits and steak, homes laced
We never hit the breaks, just continue to speed, stay in the lead
Y'all don't wanna fuck with me?

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3d8653458c019b8368de6b536b55398b

Z - Kingdom Come - Lyrics - Kingdom Come - Jay

Title: Z - Kingdom Come
Album: Kingdom Come
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Shawn C Carter, Lawrence Parker, Clement Dodd, Alonzo Miller, Carlton Livingstone, Hyman Wright, Rick James

Lyric:
Now I don't know what life will be in H I P H O P
(I will be, I will be)
Without the boy H O V
Not only N.Y.C., I'm hip hop's savior
So after this flow, you might owe me a favor

When kingdom come, you ready?
(I will be)
When kingdom come, I'm ready
(I will be)
When kingdom come, I'm ready

Now everywhere I go, they like, ?Hov, you back?
Up out the corner office, out the cul-de-sac
Where's Iceberg Slim? He was the coldest cat
Get your swag back, daddy, where your focus at?

Got to admit a little bit, I was sick of rap
But despite that, the boy is back
And I'm so evolved, I'm so involved
I'm showin' growth, I'm so in charge

I'm CEO and yeah, goin' God
I'm so indebted, I should have been deaded
Sellin' blow in the park, this I know in my heart
Now I'm so enlightened, I might glow in the dark

Hoppin' up in the office, you might know him as Clark
But, just when you thought the whole world fell apart
I take off the blazer, loosen up the tie
Step inside the booth, Superman is alive

(I will be)
The king of New York, New York
(I will be)
Not only N.Y.C., I'm hip hop's savior
So after this flow, you might owe me a favor

When kingdom come, you ready?
(I will be)
When kingdom come
(I will be)
Not only N.Y.C., I'm hip hop's savior
So after this flow, you might owe me a favor

I hear 'Hurry up Hov' when I'm out in the public
'Cause niggas like, "Don't you love it, you be it, you're of it
You breathe it, we need it, bring it back for the hustlas"
Had to dust off the Hammer, dance, 'U Can't Touch This'

C'mon playboys, bring your cars back out
'Cause ya boy Hov is back, you know them broads comin' out
Got 'em dancin' on the bankhead like they from Bankhead
Fuck Cristal, so they ask me what we drinkin'

I thought dude's remark was rude, okay
So I moved on to Dom Cuvée Rose
And there's much bigger issues in the world, I know
But I first had to take care of the world, I know

I'm from the bottom, so I still feel 'em from the bottom
Underdog before my cape, still couldn't stop 'em
Flash Gordon when recordin', spark the light in the dark
Peter Park, Spiderman, all I do is climb the charts

(I will be)
The king of New York, New York
(I will be)
Not only N.Y.C., I'm hip hop's savior
So after this flow, you might owe me a favor

When kingdom come, you ready?
(I will be)
When kingdom come
(I will be)
Not only N.Y.C., I'm hip hop's savior
So after this flow, you might owe me a favor

Just when they thought it was all over
I put the whole world on my back and broad shoulders
The War-Hova, who you know took over tracks like that?
Guess what New York, New York? We back

And I ain't never been afraid of a drought
Since I was six, seventeen, been gettin' money down south
'Bout it, 'bout it, Master P
Ask the nigga, Pimp C, ask my homey, Bun B

I run the streets, the streets don't run we
Y'all run, we chill, still waters run deep
I repeat, sing along with me
I run the streets, the streets don't run we

Ladies sayin', ?Where you been Superman??
When niggas spendin' ten million in media on my hands
The Bruce Wayne of the game have no fear
When you need me, just throw your ROC signs in the air, yeah

(I will be)
The king of New York, New York
(I will be)
Not only N.Y.C., I'm hip hop's savior
So after this flow, you might owe me a favor

When kingdom come, you ready?
(I will be)
When kingdom come
(I will be)
Not only N.Y.C., I'm hip hop's savior
So after this flow, you might owe me a favor

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70725c55731d105fd5a692fe75b53c0a

Idiot Wind - Lyrics - Blood On The Tracks - Bob Dylan

Title: Idiot Wind
Album: Blood On The Tracks
Artist: Bob Dylan
Composer(s): Jacques Levy, Bob Dylan

Lyric:
Someone's got it in for me
They're planting stories in the press
Whoever it is I wish they'd cut it out quick
But when they will I can only guess

They say I shot a man named Gray
And took his wife to Italy
She inherited a million bucks
And when she died it came to me
I can't help it if I'm lucky

People see me all the time
And they just can't remember how to act
Their minds are filled with big ideas
Images and distorted facts

Even you, yesterday
You had to ask me where it was at
I couldn't believe after all these years
You didn't know me, any better than that
Sweet lady

Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your mouth
Blowing down the back roads headin' south
Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your teeth
You're an idiot babe
It's a wonder that you still know how to breathe

I ran into the fortune-teller, who said
"Beware of lightnin' that might strike?
I haven't known peace and quiet for so long
I can't remember what it's like

There's a lone soldier on the cross
Smoke pourin' out of a boxcar door
You didn't know it, you didn't think it could be done
In the final end he won the war
After losin' every battle

I woke up on the roadside
Daydreamin' 'bout the way things sometimes are
Visions of your chestnut mare
Shoot through my head and are makin' me see stars

You hurt the ones that I love best
And cover up the truth with lies
One day you'll be in the ditch
Flies buzzin' around your eyes
Blood on your saddle

Idiot wind, blowing through the flowers on your tomb
Blowing through the curtains in your room
Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your teeth
You're an idiot babe
It's a wonder that you still know how to breathe

It was gravity which pulled us down
And destiny which broke us apart
You tamed the lion in my cage
But it just wasn't enough to change my heart

Now everything's a little upside down
As a matter of fact the wheels have stopped
What's good is bad, what's bad is good
You'll find out when you reach the top
You're on the bottom

I noticed at the ceremony
Your corrupt ways had finally made you blind
I can't remember your face anymore
Your mouth has changed, your eyes don't look into mine

The priest wore black on the seventh day
And sat stone-faced while the building burned
I waited for you on the running boards
Near the cypress tree
While the springtime turned, slowly into autumn

Idiot wind, blowing like a circle around my skull
From the Grand Coulee Dam to the Capitol
Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your teeth
You're an idiot, babe
It's a wonder that you still know how to breathe

I can't feel you anymore
I can't even touch the books you've read
Every time I crawl past your door
I been wishin' I've been somebody else instead

Down the highway, down the tracks
Down the road to ecstasy
I followed you beneath the stars
Hounded by your memory
And all your ragin' glory

I been double-crossed now
For the very last time and now I'm finally free
I kissed goodbye the howling beast
On the borderline which separated you from me

You'll never know the hurt I suffered
Nor the pain I rise above
And I'll never know the same about you
Your holiness or your kind of love
And it makes me feel so sorry

Idiot wind, blowing through the buttons of our coats
Blowing through the letters that we wrote
Idiot wind, blowing through the dust upon our shelves
We're idiots, babe
It's a wonder we can even feed ourselves

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c722598fbf1dd981fcd942d7a7ab6fe1

Allustrious - Lyrics - Murda Muzik - Mobb Deep

Title: Allustrious
Album: Murda Muzik
Artist: Mobb Deep
Composer(s): Albert J Johnson, Kejuan W Muchita

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

Lyric:
Prodigy, H A V O C, M O B B, uh huh, yeah
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
Know what I'm sayin'? Forty first side
Niggaz know how we do, right, right
I can see you back there, yeah, yo

The Mobb'll spit that shit, rip that bitch, leave it loose
Take shit back to trip who fat goose
Queens bridge representative, ghetto entrepreneur, stay on tour
Dick-riders, wanna get 'em bullshit

The same law, same day contract, different clause
Don't run red lights, I never caught the blue balls
Gold medalist spit, doin' this ever since
Third time felon nigga, who you tellin'?

'Cause we Allustrious, ashes to ashes
And dust to dust, if you fuck with us
It's a must we bust and if you stand wit us
Nine times out of ten, son you might get bucked

'Cause we Allustrious, ashes to ashes
And dust to dust, if you fuck with us
It's a must we bust and if you stand wit us
Nine times out of ten, son you might get bucked

Yo, the lost page of a wild rhyme writin' nigga
P holds the pen tightly, explode nightly
I count on one finger, all y'all rap niggaz that excite me
Y'all niggaz is trash rap, wanna fight me?

You shook to death, take breaths and step lightly
Y'all little league niggaz is so bald they might be
Spent too much time with wifey

Come out to play with the hard-headed, infamous song torture
Crack your knuckles, buckle up your pants tight
Pull your hats down, let's get it on like papi bar fights

My spiral book, hold the world's most lethal
There's no cure, for what my pen do neither
Bring the fever, y'all niggaz is the rap Justin's
While we was gone for a moment, y'all kept the crowd goin' now

Move over bacon, time for som'in meatier
Your shit's weak, your best song was mediocre
Fuck a penis, how dare you entertain the thought
That you could come out to challenge me in blood talk?

Take a walk jerk, this ain't Levert, Sweat and Johnny Gill
This is rap for real, somethin' you feel
You catch a chill when you hear the Mobb bang through your stereo

It's heavy metal for the black people, rock 'n' roll
But it's hip-hop though, my drug music
It's therapeutic to the user, you slam dance to it

Nigga we infamous, ashes to ashes till death do us
And y'all weak to us
If you stand amongst us, prepare for the worst
It's a must we burst ours first

Nigga we infamous, ashes to ashes till death do us
And y'all weak to us
If you stand amongst us, prepare for the worst
It's a must we burst ours first

Yo, crack the Henny bottle while I drop this jewel on your dome
My shit'll touch home, straight to the core you ain't alone
Play the unknown type Dunn, mysterious stars
Concealin' them slugs, if it go down, remember that mug

'Cause ain't no love when a nigga shit is touchin' his ribs
Hungrier than a hostage, shit, we blitz
Information pack the led up in shit
The better you get, the better we get and that's it

Yo, this snake's in the grass when they bite Mobb anti-venom
Stop 'em in they tracks, goin' at 'em when you send 'em
Imperial dogs, creepin' through fog

Carved needle slip and you fold, the shit's lethal
We roll Mobb Diezel, the whole Q.U double E N S
And when you spot us, play low-key

Dunn these niggaz is actresses
And they tryin' to play the man's role
Can't they see us wildin' on the video?
Don't they see us in the club swingin' elbows?
Or on the street with our jewels on the cell phone?

Hoppin' the sidewalk with Benzes and Jeeps
I ran through more cars than it's sand on the beach
I'm pleased to meet you, now here's a word to the smart
Don't ever let your peoples boost up your heart

'Cause you'll fuck around and get your ass torn apart
Challengin' the Mobb in the arts
Our literature stands colossal, compared to y'alls
Way ahead of your time, you're strugglin' to keep up
Your style's limited, your rap's primitive
Go 'head with that bullshit you kicked Dunn

Nigga we infamous, ashes to ashes till death do us
And y'all weak to us
If you stand amongst us, prepare for the worst
It's a must we burst ours first

Nigga we infamous, ashes to ashes till death do us
And y'all weak to us
If you stand amongst us, prepare for the worst
It's a must we burst ours first

Nigga, nigga, we infamous, ashes to ashes till death do us
And y'all weak to us
If you stand amongst us, prepare for the worst
It's a must we burst ours first
Nigga, we infamous

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6874dee8a39d6502088d99cd5a72e2bb

Gutta Butta - Lyrics - Still Standing - Goodie Mob

Title: Gutta Butta
Album: Still Standing
Artist: Goodie Mob
Composer(s): C Gipp, Raymon Murray, Patrick Brown, Organized Noize T Burton, W Knighton, Rico Wade, R Barnett

Lyric:
Yo, we gon' do it like this
Straight out the parts that they disregard
Never considered okay

Now don't get mad, nigga get glad
Goodie got them brand new trash bags, dag
And they know where to dump that ass
In the chair

The hoochie river with the rest of the kids
That did business outside la familians
Gettin' ya touched, down the cut
Blunts roastin' whole through tea bags

Blowin' bubbles out the wrong end
Mud in your stool piles, flamin' hotter than Dust Valley
The gateway to where ever your sick tickle desire
The gangsters of this other century
Transforming hustlers and players into sissies

So slim goodie, you don't want no drug boy
He'll leave you barefooted and pregnant
Don't get too comfortable you ain't gon be here too long
G's get locked up and die

Most lie in they own surreal home
Trust the tree on the map
This one individual thought he was the Grim Reaper
Swole, couldn't nobody put a finger on his naps

Now he up under the bridge stankin' in his birthday suit
Used to always holler about how he was gon' do a brother
Beat him to the punch-line, [Incomprehensible]
Being forced into early retirement at the age of twenty-six

Palms feel like bricks, peeling from distributing crack
Crumb snatchers and goo-gobblers struggle
To stay on top of sand dunes
'Cause mouths born with silver spoons

Make your bed you gotta sleep in it
But stakes made
Baking soda kept the knees clean
Narrow like a ravine

[Incomprehensible] fell good news
Last hole, green jacket worn, body in two
Left by oh-no, soul been gone
Disappeared like the dune

Once the temperature rise
But I'm with my Lawd, please grits, still ship
Half the pipes are gettin' sold out convenience stores
Where ya at now? Coming around trying to sniff out sounds

Well, rounded kept you strictly grounded for your ear
The dogs are gettin' closer to the [Incomprehensible] now can you hear?
I smell fear and even if your eyes was closed
Your ass couldn't catch your tear

Lies, straws, mirrors and plates
Nicks, dimes, fifties, and cakes
Why can't I escape
These lies, straws, mirrors and plates?

In the land of jacks I got my acts over the tracks with stacks
Upon the map in the vault
Where this cat's trying to sniff me out
I'm in the southwest woods working all about

Paper capers, never hurt them brothers to obtain
If I can't refrain 'cause some of these niggaz snortin' cain
And really don't know which way to go
Confused, you'll abuse anybody for a fix

Hits go for ten bucks, go for twenty and they good and plenty
Fat baggies like Maggies muffin'
Where the kid do the stuffin'
Silly of these young niggaz watching me

As I turn figures into solitaire
Twirl up my hair, pray to God I don't have to do him
Like I never knew or had no clue to who you was
'Cuz, face to face with a scar engraved upon his left cheek

So to speak, I'm more like a icon when it was done
To approach my mosse
Be on that Rossie like The Click
So I stay ready for combat and watch the rich get rich off it

Lies, straws, mirrors and plates
Nicks, dimes, fifties, and cakes
Why can't I escape
These lies, straws, mirrors and plates?

Nigga I ain't shit, I just know how to rhyme a little bit
Nigga please, I'm still trying to squeeze my fat ass in where I fit
Now I got a little dough but it ain't that much more
Than every other nigga I know

We all still po, I don't sell dope, I sell hope
You wanna size me up my nigga then wear a scope
'Cause you gon see me on MLK and on T.V.
I ain't got no fear, my nigga I was born to wait right here

Late one night I was in a pearl white Acura Legendary
I got that thang with me, 'cause it's necessary
Shit, I was just ridin', wasn't even thinking out collidin'
But I kept seeing the same headlights running stop signs and red lights

I don't prepared myself to die if it's my time to go
He said, "You know what it is, you done seen it before"
This sad, of course I'ma be mad
Well, here you can have it god dammit if you want it that bad

You would try to take from me, my nigga I ain't no star
I value both of our lives more than this car
You lucky nigga, I used to be you
Shit and I'd bust a hole in your chest, somebody could see through

Now remember, shit, you could've died tonight
And I would've been in the right
I ain't even pissed you could just drop me off at the house
'Cause I ain't really dying by nothin' like this

Everythang cool my nigga
You could just drop me off at the house
Knahmsayin'?

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348e34d71350ef1df2303b54e6690b21

Days Of Our Lives - Lyrics - De La Soul

Title: Days Of Our Lives
Artist: De La Soul
Composer(s): Willie Beck, Kelvin Mercer, Jake One, David Jolicoeur, Marshall Jones, Vincent Mason, Leroy Bonner, James Rodger Williams, Lonnie Lynn, Marvin Pierce, Clarence Satchell, Ralph Middlebrooks

Lyric:
Uh, yeah, uh, yeah, uh

Yo how the days of your life go Com?
I'm just tryin' to be, that's it? Stayin' focused so my mind is free
Watch the problems of the world go by like balloons
If tomorrow come now, it might be too soon too soon, too soon?

I want to boom into the back of the truck
Ain't nuttin' matter with a good dude, havin' into the block
With that on my mind, I'm on the grind, it pays
We break it down in these three ways, yo

These days, I travel the Maze like Frank Beverly
To the East, lookin' for pieces of a better me
Responsibility of my man's felony fell on me
Celebrity status, make 'em think I got celery

Hell and I do sometimes, still the sun shining even all day
The life of a baller, ain't even all play
I stack 'em, so the chips fall where they must
I ain't far from a Benz, or dude on the bus

Even when I don't have enough, still in God I trust
Said baby you're a star
Said, I'm on the car, seen the jiggiest of stars
Become dust, and one love become lust for the papers

Had you gassed now that gas became vapors
Tricked your cash on ice, should a had acres
Now your, empire fell like the Lakers
So you're talkin' to your maker

It's the nature of the business, they givin' niggaz inches
Takin' miles and mules, it's the wildest rules
I'm tryin' to walk in the black scent of proudest shoes
Makin' music that crowds can use

Yo how the days of your life go, Dave?
With sunshine and shade, that's it?
Tinted window grades and Kool-Aid
Watch the problems of the world go by like balloons
If tomorrow come now that might be too soon, too soon?

I want twenty-four plus on these
Put the pinto engine and the bus on these
I get that first class seat to escape the days
We break it down in these three ways

Check the life I got that antidote, cantaloupe scent, bent back
In the sun room froze, put your flick on pause and pop a cork
There's no occasion nigga it's just because
I'm celebratin' for a hell of a day

Get these Barbie filets on hot charcoal tracks, so black
Darko Pecoltrane plays them back
We then freedom fight kids who gon' ball and raise fists
If y'all down for the struggle, c'mon y'all, resist

Everyday script, I exercise cheek
Sixteen on the bar, I exercise speak
It's been a long time, Long Isle's on the map
While y'all stand on the corner, stoned like Chris[Incomprehensible]

Kiss back, watchin' time wrist back
Every second count but just finish this lap
You gamble on your life like casino slots
And cash out and still walk with a knot

Yo how the days of your life goes, Merce?
Man I'm just holdin' my head that's it?
Shit, I'm also tryin' to hold this bread
Watch the problems of the world go by like balloons
If tomorrow come now it might be too soon, too soon?

I furnished the rooms and mortgage on these
See them quittin' ass rappers caused a shortage on these
The soul boys of big illa-noyz get the praise
We break it down in these three ways

My moms died from secondhand smoke so I wish yo' ass would die
From them secondhand rhymes you wrote
Or shall I call them second rhymes written seconds 'fore
You enter the both words thrown together with very little truth

And a select few can do it true you ain't part of them scriptures
And got the nerve to feel you want me out the picture
But I was never in it, I'm the frame around the flick
Or dishin' in the mouth of your dame around my dick

Ladies and gentlemen, introducin' Workmatic
One of L.I.'s finest, and this is my life
Which is filled with bad minutes and good hours
And, good months and bad years and with my peers

We struggle to juggle the shit
Family life and the music game don't easily fit
My lady wants me home, sayin rap tour, three rap whores
And scores of scandal, even more than we can handle

Sometimes, the rhymes I say
Is the fly the currency to save the day
Can't turn it away, cause we out
To find presence way beyond our measure, so baby don't pout

Don't pout, De La Soul now turn it out
Don't pout, Common Sense'll turn it out
Don't pout

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64e2af37d516a9f8c9403cc2f8e28ed7

Let'S Be Specific - Cool Whip - Lyrics - The Mix Tape, Vol. 1: 60 Minutes Of Funk - Funkmaster Flex

Title: Let'S Be Specific - Cool Whip
Album: The Mix Tape, Vol. 1: 60 Minutes Of Funk
Artist: Funkmaster Flex
Composer(s): Percy Lee Chapman, Cool Whip Freddie Foxx, Havoc Kejuan Waliek Muchita, Raekwon Tragedy Corey Woods

Lyric:
One time, one time, one time
Styles kinda different but let's be specific
One time, one time, one time
Styles kinda different but let's be specific

This is flavor right here, 60 minutes, y'all

You'se just wasn't ready for real, so here's the deal
No type remorse when I pull skill, kill you and your fucking horse
I'm in the midst of musical moments lyrical guns bust
Bible's you trust and body clocks turn to dust
Explain and slain, you turn slave, you're like Batman

Running to your bitch ass Batcave
Be aware when you witness and turn like Burger maids
Got you swimming while you're dreaming and Cool Whip seamen
Headaches are like earthquakes, break you down
And crying out for you ladies, motherfucking crybaby

One time, one time, one time
Styles kinda different but let's be specific

Foot up [unverified] fitted if you got work
We lying in sooken put you on your back, sent you on your way
Yo, good looking, never catching the cap, the horns
In your Louis in Brooklyn
Getting over from the fo'er wit the dress stower

Got the 80, oh don't think [unverified] nickel want to roll up
Get your motherfucking shit swoll up
Now it's back to Queens to serve fiends
Making T's for enemies, my eyes on my enemies

Sipping Hennessey wit my mind on some crime shit
One time searching me but never ever find shit
It's the everyday, get the loot then breeze
Still my goal is to leave out of state, push keys

The Queen's nation, representation, I represent
Bulletproof, 3 and a quarter, chrome rims and tint
Forever bent off the hen demon, niggaz is scheming
My crews mega wit more gun play then Sega

Pick up the cellular, call Capone-N-Noreaga
The nickel plated auto when I rip for dolo
Fuck one time, I'm bucking back at the poo-poo
Mr Danny got me acting like that

Squeeze macs outta state, [unverified] one in your tracks
I'm addicted to the CREAM, I need cheese and stacks
So I'm a die trying wit AK's and Macs

One time, one time, one time
Styles kinda different but let's be specific

Yo, yea, yea, word up kid, word up, check it, check it, yo

It's the key money, time to get the stacks and maintain
Analyze papers, staying drape wit heavy chains
The Clan has built, pouring armaretta's in milk
Rap skin kilt flex nothing but fly silk

For real, Shaolin, house of whylin', house medallion
Peace to cats profiling on the island
Walk the view, play the view, cash in my crew
If I feel shyest, watch the ice turn blue

But for now, milk the cow wit the know how
Chef be on the low down, sidewalk chalk wit the White Owls
He, yo, niggaz who bless cassettes
Peace my niggaz, one love to Funkmaster Flex

I'm in the hole nigga knocking in sing-sing
Barefoot in draws from jacking yours nigga 'cuz you saw
99 push ups, I'm fiending for the mic
I'm starting to bug the fuck out, I'm stomping on mice

They feed me like an animal, my style is mad wild
Now back in population, I refuse to crack a smile
Ever since I blew trial, my attitude is fucked up
Anybody say shit to me is getting stuffed up

Petty dope dealers, pimps and big playas
Foxx got the black rock down to rhyme sayer
I'm born on one's crafty shank ripping skulls
Chopping mad niggaz to the blade is mad dull

One time, one time, one time
Styles kinda different but let's be specific

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af80ca286fcf042a3769f00568dcbf60

Can'T Ignore The Train - Lyrics - The Wishing Chair - 10,000 Maniacs

Title: Can'T Ignore The Train
Album: The Wishing Chair
Artist: 10,000 Maniacs
Composer(s): John Lombardo, Natalie Merchant

Lyric:
Steep is the water tower
Painted off blue to match the sky

Can't ignore the train

Night walks in the valley silent
You could swear the earth just moved

Can't ignore the train

Dust to be kicked up
In the crack faced idle sinister town
Screen door to the rail station, devil in her shoe
Ran along side the wasted tracks
Hem pins darted in her calves

Can't ignore the train

One spoiled girl with the tidiest apology
Some how wedged inside her throat

Can't ignore the train

Patience their virtue but I never could abide by that
Dungeon life with electric light, a clean towel and a basin
Mantle figures mind their places and laughs where they belong

Through adventure we are not adventuresome
Rage to share with a wardrobe mirror
In a room so beige and cold

Can't ignore the train

Window days saw the children pick their
Street games on thirty, thirty, thirty afternoons
Molly the boys are starting in that rhyme again
Teasing more and more

The second daughter, how she fell?
Young locked in Some Folk's Prison, made to dwell
'Til they're braiding her gray hair sitting in the wishing chair
Sitting in the wishing chair, sitting in the wishing chair

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3934ed102635f3a6fce7b9e0ae6e720d

Let'S Be Specific - Tragedy, Raekwon, + More - Lyrics - Funkmaster Flex

Title: Let'S Be Specific - Tragedy, Raekwon, + More
Artist: Funkmaster Flex
Composer(s): Percy Lee Chapman, Cool Whip Freddie Foxx, Havoc Kejuan Waliek Muchita, Raekwon Tragedy Corey Woods

Lyric:
One time, one time, one time
Styles kinda different but let's be specific
One time, one time, one time
Styles kinda different but let's be specific

This is flavor right here, 60 minutes, y'all

You'se just wasn't ready for real, so here's the deal
No type remorse when I pull skill, kill you and your fucking horse
I'm in the midst of musical moments lyrical guns bust
Bible's you trust and body clocks turn to dust
Explain and slain, you turn slave, you're like Batman

Running to your bitch ass Batcave
Be aware when you witness and turn like Burger maids
Got you swimming while you're dreaming and Cool Whip seamen
Headaches are like earthquakes, break you down
And crying out for you ladies, motherfucking crybaby

One time, one time, one time
Styles kinda different but let's be specific

Foot up [unverified] fitted if you got work
We lying in sooken put you on your back, sent you on your way
Yo, good looking, never catching the cap, the horns
In your Louis in Brooklyn
Getting over from the fo'er wit the dress stower

Got the 80, oh don't think [unverified] nickel want to roll up
Get your motherfucking shit swoll up
Now it's back to Queens to serve fiends
Making T's for enemies, my eyes on my enemies

Sipping Hennessey wit my mind on some crime shit
One time searching me but never ever find shit
It's the everyday, get the loot then breeze
Still my goal is to leave out of state, push keys

The Queen's nation, representation, I represent
Bulletproof, 3 and a quarter, chrome rims and tint
Forever bent off the hen demon, niggaz is scheming
My crews mega wit more gun play then Sega

Pick up the cellular, call Capone-N-Noreaga
The nickel plated auto when I rip for dolo
Fuck one time, I'm bucking back at the poo-poo
Mr Danny got me acting like that

Squeeze macs outta state, [unverified] one in your tracks
I'm addicted to the CREAM, I need cheese and stacks
So I'm a die trying wit AK's and Macs

One time, one time, one time
Styles kinda different but let's be specific

Yo, yea, yea, word up kid, word up, check it, check it, yo

It's the key money, time to get the stacks and maintain
Analyze papers, staying drape wit heavy chains
The Clan has built, pouring armaretta's in milk
Rap skin kilt flex nothing but fly silk

For real, Shaolin, house of whylin', house medallion
Peace to cats profiling on the island
Walk the view, play the view, cash in my crew
If I feel shyest, watch the ice turn blue

But for now, milk the cow wit the know how
Chef be on the low down, sidewalk chalk wit the White Owls
He, yo, niggaz who bless cassettes
Peace my niggaz, one love to Funkmaster Flex

I'm in the hole nigga knocking in sing-sing
Barefoot in draws from jacking yours nigga 'cuz you saw
99 push ups, I'm fiending for the mic
I'm starting to bug the fuck out, I'm stomping on mice

They feed me like an animal, my style is mad wild
Now back in population, I refuse to crack a smile
Ever since I blew trial, my attitude is fucked up
Anybody say shit to me is getting stuffed up

Petty dope dealers, pimps and big playas
Foxx got the black rock down to rhyme sayer
I'm born on one's crafty shank ripping skulls
Chopping mad niggaz to the blade is mad dull

One time, one time, one time
Styles kinda different but let's be specific

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371bf48b6ea8b4e3c8b25c808805e508

Playboy Short - Lyrics - Get In Where You Fit In - Too $Hort

Title: Playboy Short
Album: Get In Where You Fit In
Artist: Too $Hort
Composer(s): George Jr Clinton, Bootsy Collins, Todd Shaw, Phelps Collins, Ant Banks

Lyric:
Aight, bitch, funky motherfucking fresh
Some of that '93 old school shit, hoe

Well, I'm Too $hort baby, hear what I say
I never do work but I always play
'Cause the game is life and I play the game
So you never talk down on a player's name
When I grab my mic, I'm the one man crew
Talking 'bout me, wouldn't think about you
When you heard Too $hort came to town
You never would've thought I'd be looking down

On who, on you, 'cause I'm so big
Me and my money is all I dig
I'm from the Dangerous Crew, we ain't no punk
We take 24 tracks, drop the funk on your ass

Beating like a dope fiend
Back seat riding in a Limosine
Telling that freak all about me
The creater of greater, sucker MC's
Chilling out in the Oaktown singing a rap
No MC could rock like that
Now I say it like bitches say
No MC could rock my way

When I rap it's always great
Wouldn't care if it was live or on a tape
It's me, $hort, the one and only
Spitting that rap to all my homies
You know about you, you know I'm a star
When I rap too good I might take it too far
Had the whole damn crowd going wild
'Cause I don't stop rapping, that's my style

Too $hort baby from East Oakland
I got more hoes than I can count on my hand
You got women, well, I got more
You don't know, shit, I'm Playboy $hort
They call me, "Playboy $hort" known everywhere
Had a life long dream to be a player
Way too cold at a younger age
It was everyday, just make that page

Still playing the same, still young at the game
Never talk down on a player's name
'Cause I'm big time, paid all my dues
I'm rich and famous and way too cool
People can't fuck with the way I'm rhyming
They say it's too slow but it bought these diamonds
Too $hort baby is the name I use
A '93 Lexus is what I cruise

Clean from the start, I thought I was it
I was Cadillac Slick in the dust I kick
But the Caddy got parked 'cause I'm riding new
Eastside bitch, so I'm siding, fool
Money everywhere, all over the floor
At the bank I'm known as, "Mr. $hort"
At the house I be chilling, getting some head
Writing raps all day, even in bed

And them groupie-ass bitches love this shit
The funk rap master, made to fit
Just her, I'm all in them guts
Homeboy can't fuck so I hooked it up
But young women like you with your big round butts
Blind girls driving down the street called, "Love"
Chasing that man, who really can't stand
Seeing your face so now you ran

And you don't realize what you'll soon see
The way making love is supposed to be
With a player known as Playboy Too
Rock a mic and a freak and you'll both be through
Players play women who like to get played
Bitched like you just trying to get laid
But I like money and I get paid
I do my duty and say, "Good day"

I didn't want to make love, I'm not that fast
What the hell, she's a freak, she even asked
So let's go to my room after the show
Treat me like a pimp and pay me hoe
You can suck my dick and I might sing
Just love Too $hort, I'm everything
So cool, my name is Too
Call it how you want but I won't call you

Ring my phone and you might see
Ringing my phone just won't get me
'Cause I'm hard to find but I get mine
And if I was looking for you, I wouldn't be in line
I'd be right on time in the right place
Too $hort baby all in your face
Talking bout mine and what I want
Fucking MC's with the dangerous funk

I'm on my way to the top
So much rapping I'll never stop
And all that fame, you might claim
Couldn't stand up by my rap name
You might be good, I don't care
I've been rapping like this 13 long years
I got more respect then you'll ever get
'Cause I don't stop rapping and you know that shit

Sucker MC's with your record deal
Most tapes out now couldn't be real
'Cause your tracks ain't shit, dreaming 'bout hits
But you'll find out Too $hort don't quit
When I grab my mic I'm the one man crew
Talking' bout me, wouldn't think about you
When you heard Too $hort came to town
You never would've thought I'd be

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