Title: We'Re Off To See The Wizard
Artist: Jackson Browne
Composer(s): Harold Arlen, E.Y. Harburg
Lyric:
We're off to see the Wizard
The wonderful Wizard of Oz
We hear he is a wiz of a wiz
If ever a wiz there was
If ever, oh, ever, a wiz there was
The Wizard of Oz is one because
Because, because, because, because, because
Because of the wonderful things he does
We're off to see the Wizard
The wonderful Wizard of Oz
Title: Wizard Of The Hood
Album: Carnival Of Carnage
Artist: Insane Clown Posse
Composer(s): Joseph Bruce
Lyric:
One time, the ICP with this shit
For you and your boys to say "Fuck yeah" to
Yo, J, kick some of that shit about the wizard and all that
Drop a psycho beat and go on and rap, bald-headed fuck
Aw shit, homeboy, you should of seen me
I was flipped at the party drinking a fifth of MD
Straight passed out on his mother's bed
Seven cans of brew going through my head
Dreaming, I was sipping on Faygo
In my dope house, here comes a tornado
Huh, I can't run no where
'Cause the whole damn house was spinning through the air
And don't laugh just yet
(And it's blindin' my motherfucking eyes, bet)
And here comes a three and a half foot pimp
With a blue zoo suit and a mack daddy limp
Yo, I gotta grip on my weapon
'Cuz this midget motherfucker and his boys are stepping
"Oh my, look at the witch
You crushed and killed that wicked old bitch"
And they saying that I'm doomed
'Cuz I killed some ho that rides on a broom
Fuck this, I'm going back to where I stay
And I walking down the yellow brick alleyway
We're off to see the wizard
(Sing along, sing along)
We're off to see the wizard
Drop the motherfuckers all the way to Delray
Drop the motherfuckers all the way to Delray
Well, go on motherfucker
Title: Taxi
Artist: Harry Chapin
Composer(s): Harry F. Chapin
Lyric:
It was raining hard in 'Frisco
I needed one more fare to make my night
A lady up ahead waved to flag me down
She got in at the lights
"Oh, where you going to, my lady blue?"
It's a shame you ruined your gown in the rain
She just looked out the window, she said
"Sixteen Park side Lane"
Something about her was familiar
I could swear I'd seen her face before
But she said, "I'm sure you're mistaken"
Then she didn't say anything more
It took a while but she looked in the mirror
Then she glanced at the license for my name
A smile seemed to come to her slowly
It was a sad smile, just the same
And she said, "How are you, Harry?"
I said, "How are you, Sue?
Through the too many miles and the too little smiles
I still remember you"
It was somewhere in a fairy tale
I used to take her home in my car
We learned about love in the back of a Dodge
The lesson hadn't gone too far
You see, she was gonna be an actress
And I was gonna learn to fly
She took off to find the footlights
I took off to find the sky
Oh, I've got something inside me
To drive a princess blind
There's a wild man, wizard
He's hiding in me, illuminating my mind
Oh, I've got something inside me
But it's not what my life's about
'Cause I've been letting my outside tide me
Over till my time runs out
Baby's so high that she's skying
Yes she's flying, afraid to fall
I'll tell you why baby's crying
She's dying, aren't we all?
There was not much more for us to talk about
Whatever we had once was gone
So I turned my cab into the driveway
Past the gates and the fine trimmed lawns
And she said, "We must get together"
But I knew it'd never be arranged
Then she handed me twenty dollars for a two-fifty fare
She said, "Harry, keep the change"
Well another man might have been angry
And another man might have been hurt
But another man never would have let her go
I stashed the bill
And she walked away in silence
It's strange how you never know
But we'd both gotten what we'd asked for
Such a long, long time ago
You see, she was gonna be an actress
And I was gonna learn to fly
She took off to find the footlights
And I took off for the sky
Here, she's acting happy
And here, she's acting happy
Inside her handsome home
And me, I'm flying in my taxi
Taking tips, getting stoned
I go flying so high when I'm stoned
Title: Dogs Of War
Album: Fishscale
Artist: Ghostface Killah
Composer(s): Corey Todd Woods, Sylvester Stewart, Peter (Pka Pete Phillips, Darryl Robert Hill, Tom Bailey, Dennis Coles
Lyric:
Just keep away
Go on, it's not your fight
It's not yours nigga, fall back
I'm about to blow somethin' out here, straight up
Yeah, this is a family thing
We gon' handle our business and shit
These muthafuckas know not to come around here like that
This is real shit, real talk
Four different niggaz with four different aspects, nigga
This is family shit
Who the fuck said family ain't family no more, nigga?
This is tight shit, tighter than white in ya wallet
Yo, I'm talkin' bags of heavy coke, bracelets on every men
Innocent dope pushers, over night king pins
Indeed, we smack niggaz up for their cheese
Throw bleach in yo face, got beef, let it be chuck
The streets don't know my peeps
Jumpin' out of UPS trucks, blowin' niggaz off they feet
With four-four gloves, rims spinnin', tippin' on fo-fo's
My mouth be worth millions, somethin' like Paul Wall's
Ladies look out they ain't thugs, they homo's
The film look hyper when I clap 'em in slo mo'
Ya'll still payin' the mob? We whip niggaz out like waffle batter
Theodore ancient with dart, flossin' them diamonds
Discussin' our hits over a glass of scotch
Baywatch bitches that ski, take turns when they hand us the twat
Think not, we still run the trains, till the condom pop
On the low, we still fuckin' them cops
Pretty things from all precincts, Friday nights
We holdin' they glocks
This is family, nigga, niggaz can't stand me
Next up, my little man, I hand you the jammy
You know the fam, what it is, it is what it is
S.I.N.Y., where the animals live
Ass bet, niggaz run in yo cribs
I don't care if you blast for the cash, then scramble yo wig
I'm like, "Damn, what a wonderful kid"
I could do what I want, doin' dirt, not servin' a bid
You know a real fam handle they biz, everybody get searched
From the grandpops, down to the kids
And my time, I'm officially here, tell ya man
Go and start up ya car, start shiftin' the gears
Sun God got the pits for his hairs 'cuz niggaz is scared
Hopin' I don't let it blow in they ribs
I said hot, niggaz get robbed non stop
Once the gun cock, niggaz strip down to they socks
And my fam at the tippity top, I won't stop
Believe it or not, you and ya man is close targets
Juks everythin', dice games, mini markets
Fam gon' spark it, I'ma take whatever is in the pockets
Mostly the cash and the wallet, slide off the jewels
'Cuz you shinin', begets and the diamonds
Never deny niggaz with iron, yo
Aiyo, chillin' with the Ceasar crew
We can smoke, all in the halls
It's how many niggaz with guns, got 'em on
All tip top, cling to the fullest, mad bullets
This is a hobby, the lobby where they clap yo hoods
Get the paper, word to everythin', we a acre up
Barbequin' like a mutt, we ain't taking nothin'
A high tech extremist, Gatorade, paid ya boy some money
To lay up on the low, swinging beamers
I need to be an actor,but instead, I'd rather be in Hempstead
All of my bread came from crack barbers and shoppers
So much beef in these whoppers
Guns that'll knock out floors and hit choppers
What? What? The family remains 'cuz it's grain
It's automatic, I live it and I claim it
It's real, come around here, you bought here
Yo, lay that half tape, then you will get wrapped real quick
Aiyo, we hug the block on President's Day
Swingin' all year round, gettin' that money the American way
Might run up in yo weddin', grab the reverend and spray
And let the shots for whatever they may
This is family, nigga, minus the mob size
The resurrection of Toney Starks and Trife Dies', starrin' in Part 5
Niggaz'll rather die when they're pride's in question
Try'na play hero, getting stuck for they prized possessions
Look you starin' in the eyes of oppression
That's why I ride with protection extended clips
Super sizing my weapons, five eleven, keep the heat tucked
That'll burn a hole through ya stomach like acid reflux
Get buried in ya cheap tux'
We make it hard for you niggaz to keep up
Been through a hundred towns,and runnin', beatin' the streets up
Come up north in New York, down in Miami, pumpin'
At a table, breakin' bread like a family
Florida, where we follow the code of the streets
And breakin' the beats and we takin' the east
Never the least, we invadin' the streets
Shakin' the beast, we familiar for life
We don't run, we grab knives, my double edged spit life
My dogs is real tight, shootin' the dice
Some of my fam might snatch ya ice
Got family that go to church, come back like you don't work
Got family that'll set you up, got family that chill
Wanna spark the dutch
Wizard my fam, that stuck you up
I got fam that'll fuck you up
Chop you up, put your body in the back of the truck
Osama Island, we been wildin', see the violence
We display talent, respect balance, nigga, Shaolin
It's a family
Title: Iron Maiden
Album: Ironman
Artist: Ghostface Killah
Composer(s): Dee Oliver, Carl Smith, Darryl Hill, Corey Woods, Dennis Coles, Robert Diggs
Lyric:
{What you doin' on our turf, punk? Got a message for Smokey
Give it, you Smokey, man? Give it
If you ain't Smokey, it ain't yo' motherfuckin' message
Motherfucker, I said gimme the message}
{It's from Willie, in the slam, nigga, you been busted?
Yeah, the man picked me up
Well, I ain't got no fuckin' time to play witchu
Now gimme the message}
{Willie's in Warwick, doin' 1 to 3, told me to tell y'all motherfuckers
To keep cool, he be out one way or another, quick
Maybe I could stick around for awhile, naw, that's out, man
You know? What can we, The Lords, do with a punk like you?}
{Kiss my ass, motherfucker, burn 'em
Just me and you, motherfucker, just me and you
I put trademarks around your fuckin' eye}
Portrayin', won't be payin', uh huh, uh huh
Yeah, no doubt, no doubt, this Wally champ cat
Yeah, it's on this one
Yo, Gambino niggas, who swipe theirs
Deluxe rap cavaliers, midgets who steal beers, give 'em theirs
Sit back jollyin', my team be gamin'
Like three card Rolly an' drug Somalians pollyin'
Many raps they crochetin', ay yo, Iron
These niggas portrayin' but haven't been payin'
For real, slide on these niggas, like flesh fear
Caesar fade style, usually tough grenade
Throw a blade, fuck gettin' laid
Guzzle this shit like Gatorade
Big-dick Wallies have, never half-suede
Connectin' with the hot style is done
Light up a challis
I run with nuttin' but the wildest, foulest
Come on now, long dick style
Niggas on the hit out, ay yo, Iron, bite my shit out
Eventually, bust a rap gun mentally
Been doin' this century kid, just meant to be
Get on your knees an' bless me with a gem in the Caribbean
Skiin' off by P.M.
Snatch Canadian cream with Scandinavians
Fellatium style, play it like thirty-two Arabians
The greatest lesson is 'Don't owe, you might get stole on'
When I go bury me wit Valow on
{They come to me and understand just let me get mines first
Then after I get mines, y'all can do what y'all wanna do
Fuck 'em up bad}
'Sho 'nuff, hit the bank an' thrust
Cool Nauticas, Jamie Summer got trained on the tour bus
We upgrade, swallow raw eggs, read the label
Hittin' white label, left the Winnebago unstable
Smooth sailin', walked in, my earth started kneelin'
Started stealin', I'm too ill, see, we're bellin' at the parlay
Kicked up, mack, max motion
Michael Bolton magazine call, I'm too potent
Louisville mix pain kill rap, fuck Benadryl
The violin in 'Knowledge God' sounded ill
Tremendously obnoxious, no blotches
My telephone watch'll leave bartenders topless
Dead on the prosecutor, smacked a juror
Me an' my girl'll run like Luke an' Laura
We sit back on Malayan Islands
Sippin' mix drinks out of boat, coconut bowls, we whylin'
Sit back jollyin', uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
Sit back jollyin', uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
Sit back jollyin', my team be gamin'
Like three card Rolly an' drug Somalians pollyin'
Sit back jollyin', my team be gamin'
Like three card Rolly an' drug Somalians pollyin'
Sit back
Deep meditation, sound orientated, war the blizzard
Rap para-medical, the wizard
Cappadonna, never caterin' to none
My microphone an' three verse weigh a ton of slaughter
You oughta, five thousand, back across the water
My laboratory story keep me flowin' with the glory
Acapella or deep dirty instrumental
I could blow the sky like the stormy wind blew
One gallon of whylin', Park Hill profilin'
I cut your face up, rough fifty, sure while you're smilin'
For violatin' my position
I leave you smoked like a crack head on a mission
Two tokes of mic dope, one stroke of elegance
Rated like the movie graphic told intelligence
Person to person, it'd be hard for you to take a trophy
You better off to get somebody out to try to smoke me
'Cause I'm P L O T K O every day
Dance hall General, party fanatic colonel
Cappadonna, son'a old school just go infernal
Veteran for rappin' with the new set of rule of hard rappin'
Ninety-six jive, I keep the live crowd clappin'
When I bow, all praises due to Staten Isle
I spark the mic an' Shaolin spark the methtical
Every evenin' I have a by myself meetin'
Thinkin' who's gonna be the next to catch a beatin'
From my mental slangin', bitchin', rap twist the point of warfare
I brutalize, all competition catch ill hair
Chance him, that's what they said, threw up a ransom
I jacked it, stripped the beat naked an' packed it, gimme my rewards
{The way I, the way I wanna get 'em, I want 'em gotten
I want 'em layin' out, I want 'em gotten
'Cause niggas need to be gotten, he need to be taken off of here
That's straight}
Title: Area
Album: Buhloone Mindstate
Artist: De La Soul
Composer(s): Kelvin Mercer, David Jolicoeur, Vincent Mason, Paul Huston
Lyric:
I can just remember the number
I just, the number
For me to patrol
Just another area
That shows I got soul
Just another area
For me to patrol
Just another area
That shows I got soul
I got soul, you see, I'm swimming in the De La
I'm in my hood man, my manhood worries ya
I'm known for sampling of soul food
Off the old school plates
When I met up with my niggas from the 718
One the Jungle Bro, the other Questers from Queens
Yet I had the matrix of the 516 in my jeans
So I sided with my funk to bring my second on call
For me and the Sheep, our mission's on the beach of 804
(You're runnin' on an empty tank)
But still get paid in full
(And get the girls)
Man, I'm packing gravitational pull
Bring the instamatic avalanche, my code intervenes
I'm out to scout the areas that remains to be seen
(What?)
Well, many, many digits had me seeking in my Wizard
Man, who's ringing up my area
(Oh)
Oh, I used to shoe it to the bridge but that's gone
Like the 718's out of Vietnam
Sniffin' skypagers had me drugged
(Man, I knew a psycho)
703's on my love bug
I made mates with the brothers up in 215
Crazy buddhas in my mind
My Chattanooga champs had me late for the camp
And my 202 keeps me marvellous
I guess Mars was my hideaway
But if the stars for a getaway
Since I'm capable I conjure up a walk in this way
I slip a syllable for Aspen and a Chester souffle
I be the 919 seeker, 'cuz ain't off logic
So when I'm with my crew I always have a place to sit
Due to this a brother tries to play
(Yeah, like one in 514)
Yo, some kid tried to flip on
They instigated a brawl
(So we set our knuckles on stun and made them all fall)
Then I just laughed
(Ha ha ha ha ha ha)
(We whooped that ass)
And put the feelings aside, I know who I am
I cast the grain by the pound
I make sounds with the horn
When I colour the corn, caught the fit
And sit the two when honey slung the tip
Well, I'm taking my finds to the 301's
While I'm playing my flute in the rear kibbut
My man from the 908's, he don't like it like that
So I pipes till the sunshine hikes
A kettle of the master plan makes a Malibu idol
(God forgive me)
Well, it's a hook
The third to the 0 to the 5 had to feel the vibe
When the 516 played convicts
The man Maseo is here to put the habit along
And what you have, I'm 'bout to speak about your area code
Is it 908?
(No)
Is it 212?
(Hell, no)
Speakin' on 404?
(No)
What about 516?
(I dunno)
And what is it?
(Not tellin' ya)
And what is it?
(Not tellin' ya)
And what is it?
(Not tellin' ya)
And what is it?
(Not tellin' ya)
(Huh? What?)
Just another area for me to patrol
I got status 'cuz I'm baddest with the paint
Giving upside down frowns to London wood 703
Her moms didn't like it, I had to let be
For the fact I lays bricks
'Cuz my semen ends with the letter T
My seed is hard to submerge
I play the tack in the wall if my rear's not watched
'Cuz some knuckle might just head for the urge
But I got Prince Paul in the Area
(Oh, it's like that now)
I got Hot Dog in the Area
(Heh heh heh)
I got the Violators in the area
(Aaah)
I's got the Violators in the area
(Aaah)
It don't matter where you hide, I clear up the fall
Cop the fuck outta here, you fake-ass fraud
Clear my area
I'm going home now, I have been up all night
I been up all night, it's still Friday to me
Come on now, hey, Ellory, I'm going home
Bob to the Bob, D-dang, D-dang diggy-diggy
