Y'All Ain'T Ready Yet (Remix) - Lyrics - Mystikal

Title: Y'All Ain'T Ready Yet (Remix)
Artist: Mystikal
Composer(s): Leroy Edwards, Michael Tyler

Lyric:
Man, them niggas can't fuck with you, man, fuck them niggas man

I know, I, I, I know
I know y'all niggaz can't fuck with me cause I can't
Fuck with my damn self
I know, I know y'all niggaz can't fuck with me I
I know y'all niggaz
Ungh, got-damn it took a nigga
Thirteen motherfucking years through this shit
Bruh, I been rappin since La-Di-Da-Di some fucking where
I know y'all niggaz I know y'all niggaz I know y'all niggaz
Aw shit, it's on nigga

I'm still not that nigga to fuck with buster, bad for your ho health
I know y'all niggaz can't fuck with me cause I can't fuck with my damn self

See can't nobody fly, through the swamp and bayou, like I do
I know y'all niggaz can't fuck with me and they can't but they try to
Some niggaz just need to be warned
It's gonna be harder to get it up on a my own
Nigga go ring the alarm
Matter fact better know what it take
For the back of your head to hit that grass
Let' s get this straight from the jump
I ain't playing with your bitch ass
These outside niggaz that run to the mic better come clean
Fuckin with that Saudi Arabian
Desert Storm veteran 12th ward offspring
I'm runnin these niggaz to the jets
To the hills, to the back of the tracks
A-A-ask them hos, did I do that?
I'm coming boisterous with 5 million switches
I'm the man with single and double and triple
And four five six time them bitches
I'm the nigga with the go head, fuckin your bitch up in your bed
Standin 5 foot 'leven dick crooked like a roach leg
Much bone and I don't fail a test
Little nigga fuck hos both sides of the river
I can't be fucked with, you can't touch this better grab hold
Bitch I'm so cold I'm like a 24 year-old north pole
Give a fuck about these raggly ass hoes
Grippin my nuts as I strut in my baggy ass Girbauds
Makin em stop, (bigidabounce) pause, Like Jubilee All
I'm harder than a nigga watchin' Janet Jackson in draws
But if ya catch me on the tv, or the radio spell it
M-Y-S-T-I-K-A-L y'all ain't ready though

I'm still not that nigga to fuck with buster, bad for your ho health
I know y'all niggaz can't fuck with me cause I can't fuck with my damn self

I'm still not that nigga to fuck with buster, bad for your ho health
I know y'all niggaz can't fuck with me cause I can't fuck with my damn self

So Mystikal, in your own words could you explain your style?
I gotta get a rhyme that can tumble through the air like a Rambo spear
See y'all can stop lookin at another nigga
Face cause bitch the man right here
You nigga didn't think that I could swing mine
Bitch I'm doing bad and saying rhymes at the same time (I ain't lying)
Talking behind my back don't make me no nevermind
Cause all you can say is I'm smarter than Einstein
I'm fire like Cayenne
You'll never catch me cause I'm swift as a hyena
Gimme the chance I'll rock the lakefront arena
Like Teena Marie be rockin Tipitina's (damn Gina)
Tall dark strong long and lean ain't nobody comin cleaner
It's all in the way I lay my game down
Watch me swing with the gillotine rollin round nigga town
But everybody think these niggaz be wantin me
To prove that I'm the man
Bitch I'm colder than a freezer, cooler than a fan
I got no love for no b-i-e-otch
Matter fact's been that way since I was wearin osh kosh b'gosh
But yet y'all steadily trying to squab bout me
When I come in this door the only thing y'all can do is talk about me
Better get some business about yourself that's what you better do
Matter fact I'm a tell you mother fuckers three things I'm a never do
One never gonna change my style
Two never gonna bounce, three never gonna bow
I'm gettin tired of being sick and tired
Nigga you got a problem with me gettin' high
Suck big dick and die
Same rhyme phrase get me paid, they can't fade
The tan shade man with the braids
Bitches peep as I creep through the 12th ward
I done offended these niggaz compare me
To niggaz that gotta practice looking hard
Bitch-a won't leave me alone
I'm not that Thug and I'm not that Ruggish but I do pack Bone
Black prince of the south that's my title
Bitch I'm whoo chka ckha oooooww! bad like Michael
I'm throwin rhymes at a steady flow
(Inhaling) whoo there they go y'all niggaz ain't ready yo

I'm still not that nigga to fuck with buster, bad for your ho health
I know y'all niggaz can't fuck with me cause I can't fuck with my damn self

Bitch I pimp hos instead of an army petty shit it don't harm me
Bitch I'm entertaining like Cedric and I'm mac like Bernie
I'm black like Menace and I'm g like Slimm
I'm Sporty like T and I'm smooth like Tim
I can click just like the boot camp but I'm conscious like daughter
Bitch I'm insane but um, you still be wantin
To claim that I'm your partner
I'm Down just like Bust plus I'm Ice just like Mike
And I'm the living lyrical miracle I'm just ice like precise
I'm the invisible man you blind you can't see shit
Picture I got more bitches on my dick than bitches at FREAKNIK

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Its Murda ( Cable Guy Remix ) - Lyrics - Eminem

Title: Its Murda ( Cable Guy Remix )
Artist: Eminem
Composer(s): Irving Lorenzo, Jeffrey Atkins, Bruce Washington

Lyric:
It's murda, ha ha ha
It's murda, we back up in this muthafucka
It's murda

Y'all know who we be
(Aiyyo don't let me catch ya runnin' from the back of BET either nigga)
My nigga Fatal on tha muthafuckin' ones and twos
Holla back you bitch ass niggaz

Yo, cocksucka', I get squat and post and cocked tha nina'
In tha five series Beamer, dump and lean ya
I fell off on a misdemeanor, ride red over black madina's
Take crazy for genius

Hated like Jesus Christ
My weakness always been bad bitches and new bills with creases
My thesis more than extraordinary
And that nigga that got shot nine times

Can tell ya that I don't give a fuck, I don't give a fuck
God may I ask yo' permission to take his life
This is your man be I N C to R U L E extraordinary, one for tha ages

When done sawed off with tha front of them gauges
To engage in combat, to send you and fem where yo mom's at
Motherfucka you hear that?
And I ain't talkin' about them heavenly skies
I'm talkin' fire from nines

Or maybe the fifty cal 'cause you like five-oh
Or maybe somewhere in Cal where you like to lay low
You bitch made, and I heard about that bitch
You be slayin' layin' up with, some where off of Sunset

Y'all haven't heard yet that nigga change is loose
And I got proof, get it? I got proof
Yo vest is no use when we cock and flame
It's Murda, murda incorporated

It's Murda, yeah
Hussein Fatal nigga
It's Murda, muthafuckas

Rule these niggas crazy, reppin' him without me
A.I ain't in tha click, believe they won't win without me
Yo, I'm small lil' homies, frail but bold
Went from base to some bullshit like Jalen Rose

Got my blind D O G's readin' brail and coats
Keep tha heat in tha winter I can't tell it's cold
Clean my set, pieced out flame tha tec
Throw shots niggas catch like Wayne Cherbet

Son of a gangsta, talk dirty son I'm a bang ya
I'm tha truth with tha ox, keep gum on tha banger
Hussein, the only reason hoes chase tha thugs
Nigga Blade Part Two I got tha taste for blood

Log on Fatal.com, see fatal drop bombs
More militant minded then y'all faded with 'Pac rhymes
Clutching tha stick beam, suckin' tha stick green
Out tha window or tha sunroof, buckin' tha sixteen

You ain't a gangsta 'em, this is gangsta shit
And 50 you ain't nuthin' but a gangsta bitch
Pac' would have never did no song with no wanksta snitch
He confusin' y'all he ain't tha shit

We sex, money and murda you niggas
Ain't no playin' around with this rap shit
Banana clip, mack's spit bodies wrapped in plastic
This tha city where tha skinny niggas die no
You heard my dogs this is tha city where tha skinny niggas ride nigga

Plat, Hussein tha don
Believe we got this shit poppin' in this muthafucka
Rule it's good
And we into tha muthafuckin' club you punk niggas walkin' out
Brick city, Rule, Rap-alot-mafia, Murda
Yound D', Merc, Exsaless

These niggas ain't ready for this gangsta shit right here
We been doing this shit for a long time
Y'all niggas got the streets confused nigga
We been on this gangsta thug shit

Bitch ass niggas you know what it is
Every time we touch tha muthafuckin' booth nigga
It's gonna be fire, fire on you niggas' asses
Niggas better gracefully bow tha fuck out nigga

Hussein Fatal nigga, Rap-alot-mafia, nigga
M.I.B. nigga, Murder Inc bosses
Rule we here baby, Brick City Jerseys
Yeah, Shadow let's get it

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I'M So Hood (Remix) - Lyrics - Dj Khaled

Title: I'M So Hood (Remix)
Artist: Dj Khaled
Composer(s): Andrew Harr, Jermaine Jackson, Khaled Khaled, Faheem Najm, William Roberts, Algernod Washington, Maurice Young

Lyric:
DJ Khaled, we the best
Who we ***, we the best
The winners I represent the ghetto 'cross the world
And you represent the horde, two hands in the sky

(I'm so hood)
Yeah, I wear my pants below my waist
And I never dance when I'm in this place
'Cause you and your man is plannin' to hate

(I'm so hood)
And I got these golds up in my mouth
If you get closer to my house
Then you know what I'm takin' 'bout

I'm out the hood
And if you feel me put your hands up
(Hood)
My hood of ***, can you stand up?

(I'm so hood)
If you not from here you can walk it out
And you not hood
If you don't know what I'm talkin' 'bout

(I-I-I-I'm)
Everybody wanna mother*** know why I
Dress so fly, sit so high
***, I do it for the hood
*** *** *** I do it 'cause I could

Every star on my jeans gleams
4 X on my white tee's
Livin' life like a G that's why
These *** *** *** wanna fight me

Bluck, ain't goin play wit 'em
Brother left to AK hit 'em
Tough *** get *** up
And put on ice for the rest of they life

I'm straight out the hood bro
See that's what I do it for
And my low class ghetto ***
Just renewed my ghetto ***

(I'm so hood)
Yeah, I wear my pants below my waist
And I never dance when I'm in this place
'Cause you and your man is plannin' to hate

(I'm so hood)
And I got these golds up in my mouth
If you get closer to my house
Then you know what I'm takin' bout

I'm out the hood
And if you feel me put your hands up
(Hood)
My hood of *** can you stand up?

(I'm so hood)
If you not from here you can walk it out
And you not hood
If you don't know what I'm talkin' 'bout

(I-I-I-I'm so hood)
Ross, yeah, 4 5 off in the ride
Four plus for me to get high
I feel the buck when I ride by

(I'm so hood)
I got em' hate talkin' like plies
*** keep droppin' like flies
Snitchin' ain't goin' cut no time

(I'm so hood)
I murder one of you *** ***
Droppin' for you last
You know comin' mad

(I'm so hood)
More money, more mayhem
You yayo and millions I made em'
My may block is mine, my city is mine

(I'm so hood)
Yeah, I wear my pants below my waist
And I never dance when I'm in this place
'Cause you and your man is plannin' to hate

(I'm so hood)
And I got these golds up in my mouth
If you get closer to my house
Then you know what I'm takin' bout

I'm out the hood
And if you feel me put your hands up
(Hood)
My hood of ***, can you stand up?

(I'm so hood)
If you not from here you can walk it out
And you not hood
If you don't know what I'm talkin' 'bout

(I-I-I-I'm so hood)
Yeah, yo my P O, y'all can tell I said it
Fine lady, she won't have to come cash me
*** test me all you want, I'ma smoke when I'm ready
Pants hangin' off me 9 'cause my *** heavy

(Hood)
I ain't spoke to you yet, dawg, 'cause I ain't friendly
I drank light, homie, y'all drink crisp
I like *** handy, I want that boogie ***
I never buy a Phantom, 28's can't fit

They say I'm dead now, they call me high risk
My four bloody goon, lanes make me sick
You're gettin' 3 or 4 birds before we call you rich
I'd like to thank the hood, homie, it's all mad real

(I'm so hood)
Yeah, I wear my pants below my waist
And I never dance when I'm in this place
'Cause you and your man is plannin' to hate

(I'm so hood)
And I got these golds up in my mouth
If you get closer to my house
Then you know what I'm takin' 'bout

I'm out the hood
And if you feel me put your hands up
(Hood)
My hood of ***, can you stand up?

(I'm so hood)
If you not from here you can walk it out
And you not hood
If you don't know what I'm talkin' 'bout

(I-I-I-I'm so hood)
Trick Daddy, T-Pain, Rick Ross
***, we so hood

(I'm so hood)
We the best
DJ Khaled, Florida stand up
Let's go
(Hood)

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A Little Somethin' - Lyrics - 14 Shots To The Dome - Ll Cool J

Title: A Little Somethin'
Album: 14 Shots To The Dome
Artist: Ll Cool J
Composer(s): J T Smith, M Williams, K Floyd

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

Lyric:
Here we go, another funky style
Peace to my brothers on 'Rikers' Isle'
Introducin' the crew, that's goin' a mile
To get behind the ropes, stop actin' wild

This here part is like section one
So you can bug-a-loo and set fire to your buns
Early mornin' light is yet to come
And when it come, we'll get buggy in the sun

Females, let your hair down
'Cause this is how we do it when we go uptown
With the funky sound, the razzamatazz
You give me to the sploshers, you can get your blast

Enter at your own risk, some brothers got weapons
Yet you're still steppin', the beats' so funkafied
And answer to the bone, people'll be dancin' alone

Leanin' on the wall next to grandma's mop
With the funky, funky groove that's far from pop
Dosey-do your partner all night long
And all you mothers, bring your kids along

(Yo uncle)
Whassup? Whassup?
(Yo uncle)
Yeah, I do a little somethin'

(Yo uncle)
Whassup? Whassup?
(Yo uncle)
Huh, I do a little somethin'

(Yo uncle)
Whassup? Whassup?
(Yo uncle)
Yeah, hah, I do a little somethin'

(Yo uncle)
Whassup? Whassup?
(Yo uncle)
(Just kick a little somethin')

Ain't no mountain high enough
To overcome this funky like type of stuff
The feds are ridiculous, they call my bluff
Oh, my wrists are too skinny to hold me with cuffs

I got the sure-shot guaranteed mover
Suck it like a hoover and do ya whole maneuver
Don't stop till you get it on

With ya head be boppin' like a bouncy ball
They do it in the park, they do it in the mall
But when I do it, I'm doin' it for y'all
(Yeah)

Asiatic, automatic, your funky fanatic without no static
Flippin' on the freak like I'm acrobatic
You were searchin' for the funk and I had it
Here we go, hand over the cash yo
What chime? Aiyyo, blast the tobasco

Work your body like a dime, oh no
Do the freaky-deaky, the whole girls' cargo
Females on the side, we gotta win 'em, yeah
The back pockets are stuck with nothin' in 'em, yeah

Except my beeper number
Rubbin' all my lumber so I cannot slumber
Makes me sick like an earthquake
So do the baddy-too-true, we got cash to make
Able body, ready to party
All the ladies in the house must be eatin' hardy

And provin' and movin', groovin', so soothin' good for ya
And clinically proven, damn
Every little bit of the tip makes ya taste flip
Like sugar on Ritz, get on down, to the sure-shot sound
'Cause all five burrows are rockin' uptown

(Yo uncle)
Whassup? Whassup?
(Yo uncle)
Yeah, I do a little somethin'

(Yo uncle)
Whassup? Whassup?
(Yo uncle)
Whattup? Hah, I do a little somethin'

(Yo uncle)
Whassup? Whassup?
(Yo uncle)
Yeah, hah, I do a little somethin'

(Yo uncle)
Whassup? Whassup?
(Yo uncle)
Aiyyo, aiyyo
(Just kick a little somethin')

Pump up the nasty, nasty, nasty sound
Kick back and let it please ya like a rub down
Put ya body in the lost and found
(Kick that L)
I love the way its goin' down

What you see is what you get
And all the words who's next to be the teacher's pet
Down-home monkey, corn fed, original
And what you do is up to you, the individual

This is the place to be for y'all underage brothers
With the rebel mentality
Sweet young freaks sayin' 'Rock me [unverified]
Skin so smooth lookin' all [unverified]

Video to video, tape to tape
Walkin' through the jam in search of a playmate
Party is packed like a rich mans' fridge
Too many people in the crib

The situation is sweaty and crazy like Eddy
And yes we are ready to funk it up steady
Ain't nothin' here petty
Trip down to your laundry, I'm ready
Hold your horse and baby feel the force
And get jaws off, no matter what the cost

Come out to cloth, get hot like a stove
Early in the mornin', we're dancin' in robes
To a funkafied sweaty, greazy groove
I know the Marley remix to make you move

(Yo uncle)
Whassup? Whassup?
(Yo uncle)
Yeah, I do a little somethin'

(Yo uncle)
Whassup? Whassup?
(Yo uncle)
I do a little somethin'

(Yo uncle)
Whassup? Whassup?
(Yo uncle)
Peace out, hah, I did a little somethin'

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Back In The Mud (Zone 4 Remix) - Lyrics - Bubba Sparxxx

Title: Back In The Mud (Zone 4 Remix)
Artist: Bubba Sparxxx
Composer(s): Rico R Wade, Marqueze Etheridge, Stuart Jordan, Patrick Brown, Raymon Ameer Murray, Warren Anderson Mathis

Lyric:
1,2
1,2,3, Let's go

Back in the mud I've been in
I confess, I'm so happy here
There's nothing you can do to make me stay away, away, away

He's just that country boy, city slick, pit bull temperament
At the Pony, at the Flame, either way it's an event
If it's me consider it more than a coincidence
Even though they mumble at me sucka's keep they distances
Barber K, hey, what's that, they say
Hip hop redneck that's a safe place
Say what makes you comfortable
Wit me 'cause I like it here
How about a road-dwellin' urban music pioneer
Turn it up, let it bang, run wit me I bet you can't
Took too much to make it float, never will I let it sink
So when we invented it for our youth and generous
Hopin' that my moment passed, I can see no end of it
Twenty-five, livin' like I was born yesterday
Lovin' life, doin' right, earnin' every breath I take
Standin' in the mud again 'cause it seem to pay me well
Playin' wit my not-so-distant cousins from the A-T-L
Aaah

Back in the mud I've been in
I confess, I'm so happy here
There's nothing you can do to make me stay away, away, away

Press it up, ship it out, call the Pony, rent it out
Everything I am today is really what I been about
Athens, Gerogia resident, native of LaGrange though
I don't love the peach state, "Buddy, say it ain't so"
Now all of a sudden, in fact, it's quite the opposite
I'm lovin' y'all from Brunswick up to the metropolis
Can't forget about my Betty Betty and DaLonica
They put the triple X's at the end of Andy's moniker
How could I run from everything that made me
Know that all the love I get's appreciated greatly
Now I'm on the brink of something truly inconceivable
Bubba's international but still he kept it regional
Tryin' to make my mama proud
We can laugh and see the smile
Gotta make sure loaded gun, this next CD is in your file
Each and everyone of my talented associates get's what they deserve
Nothin' short of that's appropriate

Back in the mud I've been in
I confess, I'm so happy here
There's nothing you can do to make me stay away, away, away

Kitchen cup, fill it up, soap don't appeal to us
If you're broke do what you can, that alone is still enough
Help us out, if you're rich, 'cause we funna hit your bitch
Just stop by the store and grab a case of that and six of this
Hey Betty, get ready 'cause your daddy's in route
Let her join the beat club, keep that little trim out
Hvae her screamin' "New South" without pullin' "lewd" out
He always wonder what you doing, let him wonder who now
At the end of the day I would have no regrets
Got it done on every front and I ain't even focused yet
At the bottom of the pile swimmin' wit them mud cats
If you die, man I'm pullin' "soowee" for a grudge match
Spell it out, L-E-G, E-N-D I still believe
Whatever goal God set for me indeed I will achieve
In this life or in the next, whther drinkin' gin or Beck's
Bubba funna bring it home, conceal it, and send the checks

Back in the mud I've been in
I confess, I'm so happy here
There's nothing you can do to make me stay away, away, away

Back in the mud I've been in
I confess, I'm so happy here
There's nothing you can do to make me stay away, away, away

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