Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Z - Ain'T No *****. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Z - Ain'T No *****. Sort by date Show all posts

Friday, August 20, 2010

Z - Nigga Please - Lyrics - The Blueprint 2: The Gift & The Curse - Jay

Title: Z - Nigga Please
Album: The Blueprint 2: The Gift & The Curse
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Chad Hugo, Chris Ries, Pharrell Williams, Shawn Carter

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

Lyric:
What, uh, c'mon, uh
Keep the change my nigga, it's too late for that
Keep the change my nigga, it's too late for that
Keep the change my nigga, it's too late for that

My nigga, please, you ain't signin' no checks like these
My nigga, please, you ain't pushin' no wheels like these
My nigga, please, you ain't holdin' no tecks like these
My nigga, please, you don't pop open vests like these

Nigga please, you ain't start out from your trunk
Then reach the roof, just to put your roof in your trunk
Nigga please, chumps don't tour like us
You on the road a million hours, I fly over your bus

Nigga please, you ain't got your neck all froze
With the same logo that you got sketched on your clothes
Nigga please, you don't be gettin' no hoes
With La Perla on they cheeks, can't be messin' with cheap chicks

Nigga please, you seldom seen with chicks in Seven Jeans
Manolo Blahnik I'm goin' through they body like an ultrasonic
You ain't got 'em blowin' no chronic
Divine intervention, you can't prevent me from shinin'

Nigga please, I been around the world
I damn near beat Jordan in around the world
Nigga please, you can't even hold my shoes
I got wannabes who wannabe me that sound, nigga better than you

My nigga, please, you ain't signin' no checks like these
My nigga, please, you ain't pushin' no wheels like these
My nigga, please, you ain't holdin' no tecks like these
My nigga, please, you don't pop open vests like these

Uh, pimp strollin' on 'em
Black diamonds, rose goldin' on 'em, paper foldin' on 'em
Snuck pass the dog noses with the Foldger's on 'em
Keys, Saran Wrap with petroleum on 'em

Snitch got pinched but he toned it on 'em
Lawyers got it adjourned, try squirm somethin' on 'em
There's no witnesses, it's no holdin' on 'em
Just George Jefferson strollin' on 'em

Nigga please, this is me, this is real as it be
My videos is like real TV
That chick, that's me, that six, that's me
That boat, I had it on the Mediterranean sea

My nigga, please, you ain't signin' no checks like these
My nigga, please, you ain't pushin' no wheels like these
My nigga, please, you ain't holdin' no tecks like these
My nigga, please, you don't pop open vests like these

Nigga please, y'all ain't seein' no checks like these, no
Y'all don't run up in record labels demandin' respect like we
Y'all don't rock your Roc-A-Wear Nike checks like we
Y'all coach class, y'all never private jet like we

My nigga please, y'all don't smoke the sour diesel like us
You don't go to Pop and get ya flour cheaper than us
Knock it off in three hours and repeat it like us
And repeat it we must, y'all don't reup like us

Ay, y'all ain't bein' like us, 'cuz y'all don't see it like us
The move the D's when they rush
My nigga please, they must be on E's and dust
Then niggas f'in with pills, y'all don't get G's like us

My nigga please, y'all young'ns ain't got O.G.s like me
B. Sig, Young Hov', Dame Dash, Kareem
Nigga please, somebody must've gassed your team
Think a nigga outrun or outlast Gang Green

My nigga, please, you ain't signin' no checks like these
My nigga, please, you ain't pushin' no wheels like these
My nigga, please, you ain't holdin' no tecks like these
My nigga, please, you don't pop open vests like these

Amazin' man, got your aerosol
I made my money, but don't trouble the law
I keep the womens around, I drive the womens crazy
Ya wanna know the time, better have me shades

My nigga, please, you ain't signin' no checks like these
My nigga, please, you ain't pushin' no wheels like these
My nigga, please, you ain't holdin' no tecks like these
My nigga, please, you don't pop open vests like these

Play the MP3 online for free!
7e07ef12c89334458f6aefbae3f5a1cd

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Z - Heart Of The City (Ain'T No Love) - Lyrics - The Blueprint - Jay

Title: Z - Heart Of The City (Ain'T No Love)
Album: The Blueprint
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Dan Walsh, Shawn Carter, Michael Price, Kanye West

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

Lyric:
Uh, uhh, listen
First the Fat Boys break up, now every day I wake up
Somebody got a problem with Hov'
Whassup y'all niggaz all fed up 'cause I got a little cheddar
And my records movin' out the sto'?

Young fucks spittin' at me, young rappers gettin' at me
My nigga Big predicted the shit exactly
"Mo' Money, Mo' Problems", gotta move carefully
'Cause faggots hate when you gettin' money like athletes

Yung'uns ice-grillin' me, ohh, you not feelin' me?
Fine, it cost you nothin', pay me no mind
Look, I'm on my grind cousin, ain't got time for frontin'
Sensitive thugs, y'all all need hugs

Damn though mans I'm just tryin' do me
If the record's two mill' I'm just tryin' move three
Get a couple of chicks, get 'em to try to do E
Hopefully they'll menage before I reach my garage

I don't want much, fuck I drove every car
Some nice cooked food, some nice clean drawers
Bird-ass niggaz I don't mean to ruffle y'all
I know you waitin' in the wing but I'm doin' my thing
Where's the love?

(Ain't no love, in the heart of the city)
I said, where's the love?
(Ain't no love, in the heart of town)
Yeah

And then the Fugees gon' break up, now everyday I wake up
Somebody got somethin' to say
What's all the fuckin' fussin' for? Because I'm grubbin' more
And I pack heat like I'm the oven door

Niggaz pray and pray on my downfall
But everytime I hit the ground I bounce up like round ball
Now I don't wanna have to kill sound bar
Don't wanna have to cock back the four pound bar

Look scrapper I got nephews to look after
I'm not lookin' at you dudes, I'm lookin' past ya
I thought I told you characters I'm not a rapper
Can I live? I told you in ninety-six
That I came to take this shit and I did, handle my biz

I scramble like Randall with his
Cunning-ham but the only thing runnin' is numbers fam
Jigga held you down six summers, damn, where's the love?

(Ain't no love, in the heart of the city)
Niggaz, where's the love?
(Ain't no love, in the heart of town)
Holla at me

(Ain't no love in the heart of the city)
(Take 'em to church)
Uh, uh, uh, my nigga where's the love?
(Ain't no love, in the heart of town)
Fuck

Then Richard Pryor go and burn up, and Ike and Tina Turner break up
Then I wake up to more bullshit
You knew me before records, you never disrespected me
Now that I'm successful you'll pull this shit

Nigga I'll step on your porch, step to your boss
Let's end the speculation, I'm talkin to alla y'all
Males shouldn't be jealous that's a female trait
Whatchu mad cause you push dimes and he sell weight?

Y'all don't know my expenses, I gotta buy a bigger place
Hehehe, and more baggies, why you all aggie?
Nigga respect the game, that should be it
What you eat don't make me shit, where's the love?
Where's the love?

Ain't no love, in the heart of the city
Ain't no love, in the heart of town
Ain't no love, in the heart of the city
Ain't no love, in the heart of town

Ain't no love, in the heart of the city
Ain't no love, in the heart of town
Ain't no love

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6247376a4bfc0a3070945d1557d2d46d

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Snitch - Lyrics - Tha Carter (Screwed And Chopped) - Lil' Wayne

Title: Snitch
Album: Tha Carter (Screwed And Chopped)
Artist: Lil' Wayne
Composer(s): Dwayne Michael Carter, Byron O Thomas

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

Lyric:
Snitch, don't let your mouth open up
'Cuz you don't wanna see the handgun open up, no
Don't let your mouth open out
'Cuz you don't wanna see the automatic open out, no

Don't let your mouth open up
'Cuz you don't wanna see the handgun open up, no
Don't let your mouth open out
'Cuz you don't wanna see the automatic open out, no

Ain't no snitches ridin' wit us
Ol' mo' the mouth niggaz could holla the front
Can't no loose slips get on my yacht
I leave player haters at the dock, watch

And your nigga help ya burn the block
As soon as you get hot nigga turn to cop
Ya settin' up federal appointments now
Nigga all in court pointin' out

Daddy not knowin' what he doin' his child
We gon mail him his finger when he get out, yea
Just to show him what we's about
Never let shit about G'z leave ya mouth, yea

You inside can't leave ya house
Two donut lovers to police ya house
I sneak past those brothers leak in ya house
And put the heat dead in yo mouth, so shut up

Don't let your mouth open up
'Cuz you don't wanna see the handgun open up, no
Don't let your mouth open out
'Cuz you don't wanna see the automatic open out, no

Don't let your mouth open up
'Cuz you don't wanna see the handgun open up, no
Don't let your mouth open out
'Cuz you don't wanna see the automatic open out, no

Wizzy nigga been 'bout me
Stay low so you don't know shit 'bout me
Make no mistake I'm a veteran at
Me never rat mommy taught me better than that

Get a gat if you ain't got one already
If you do then you ain't got enough get two
And you could never get me nigga, get you
And you ain't got to fuck me girl, fuck you

I'm rollin' wit my goons
And I would never roll on my nigga take that to my tune
Ain't no girl came out of mom's wound
Real nigga shit muthafucker I'm tuned, and I was taught

If a man talk about another man while that man ain't present
A man don't listen
They throwin' brick but they hands is missin'
Just watch what you sayin' sissy

Don't let your mouth open up
'Cuz you don't wanna see the handgun open up, no
Don't let your mouth open out
'Cuz you don't wanna see the automatic open out, no

Don't let your mouth open up
'Cuz you don't wanna see the handgun open up, no
Don't let your mouth open out
'Cuz you don't wanna see the automatic open out, no

Ain't no telling who spillin' the earl
You tellin' yo boy he tellin' his girl
Now she tellin' the world
It ain't no secret I'm hotter than etha

But I don't neither cop shit neither
Either close yo mouth or meet the heater
We the dirty south where cocaine cheaper
You go up north nigga's boost they fee up

This where the real hustlers meet up
Look out anybody can be them people
Yo own people could be them people
No glasses can help you see them people

They around too many evil people
Detectives wanna get even equal
My desert eagle ain't even legal, but ssh

Don't let your mouth open up
'Cuz you don't wanna see the handgun open up, no
Don't let your mouth open out
'Cuz you don't wanna see the automatic open out, no

Don't let your mouth open up
'Cuz you don't wanna see the handgun open up, no
Don't let your mouth open out
'Cuz you don't wanna see the automatic open out, no

Yea nigga watch the people around you watch the people away from you
Leave them niggaz be let them stay from you
These niggaz mouth's is runnin' like hot water, I swear to God
Real niggaz takin' falls like Niagara

Tryna stay up like Viagra, but it ain't gonna happen
These niggaz is best buddies wit the 5-0 team
They know the DA by name
It ain't a game, it used to be one

It's like these niggaz got them
Big ducks in they mouth that the gynecologist
Use when yo bitch get a pap smear
That's pussy anyway, weezy

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d1ad234c574282a057ade86c88ef123f

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Z - Ain'T No ***** - Lyrics - Unplugged - Jay

Title: Z - Ain'T No *****
Album: Unplugged
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Dennis Lambert, Tyrone Thomas, Shawn Carter, August Moon, Brian Potter

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

Lyric:
Foxy Brown
What? Jay-Z, what

I keep it fresher than the next bitch
No need for you to ever sweat the next bitch
With speed, I make the best bitch see the exit, indeed
You gotta know you're thoroughly respected by me

You get the keys to the Lexus with no driver
You gotcha own '96 suh-in, the ride
And keep your ass tighter than Versace, that's why
You gotta watch your friends you got to watch me, they connivin' shit

The first chance to crack the bank
They try me, all they get is 50 cent francs
And papayas, from the village to the tele
Time to kill it on your belly, no question
I got more black chicks between my sheets than Essence

They say sex is a weapon, so when I shoot
Meet your death in less than eight seconds
Still poundin' in my after life laughin', my shit is tight
Who you askin', right?

Ain't no nigga like the one I got
(No one can fuck you betta)
Sleeps around but he gives me a lot
(Keeps you in diamonds and leathers)

Friends'll tell me I should leave you alone
(Ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha)
Tell the freaks to find a man o' they own
Man o' they own, man o' they own
(Yea, yea)

Fresh to Def in Moschino, coach bag
Lookin' half black and Filipino, fakin' no jacks
Got you a beeper to feel important
Surroudin' your feet in Joanie Dega's and Charles Jordan

I keep ya dove but love
You know these ho's be makin' me weak
Y'all knows how it goes B and so I creep

I've been sinnin' since you been playin' wit Barbie and Ken 'n'
You can't change a player's game in the ninth innin'
The chrome rim spinnin' keeps 'em grinnin'
So I run way the fuck up in 'em and wrinkle the face like linen

I play hard-eh till they say God
He's keepin' it real, jigga, stay hard
Lawd, don't even trip
I never slip, nigga, get a grip

What you don't see is whatcha get
Weapons concealed, what the fuck y'all feel?
When you niggas play sick we can all get ill
(What the deal?)

Ain't no nigga like the one I got
(No one can fuck you betta)
Sleeps around but he gives me a lot
(Keeps you in diamonds and leathers)

Friends'll tell me I should leave you alone
(Ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha)
Tell the freaks to find a man o' they own
Man o' they own, man o' they own

Yo, ain't no stoppin' this, no lie
Promise to stay monogamous, I try
But love, you know these ho's be makin' me weak
Y'all knows how it goes B, so I stay deep

What up, boo? Just keep me laced in the illa snakes
Bank rolls and shit, back rubs in the French tub
Mackin' this bitch, wifee, nigga
So when you flip that coke, remember the days you was dead broke

But now you're style and I raised you
Basically, made you into a don
Flippin' weight, heroin and shit, you know the pussy is all that
That's why I get bagets five carats and all that

From Dolce Gabana to H Vendell, I'm ringin' bells
So who the playa? I still keep you in the illest gators
Tailor-made so we can lay up in the shade reminiscin'
On how I fuck the best o' shit

Specially when I'm flippin' Baileys
Don't give a fuck about how you move with them other mamis
I push da Z, eatin' shrimp scampi with rocks larger than life
Fuck them Reebok broads, you made it known who your wife was

I got you frontin' in Armani sweaters before this rap shit
When you was in levers and bullshit berettas
And eek classes with mo in the glasses, shows in Cali
Wit all the flavor suede Bally's

Now all your mens' up in your Benz's high post
I swear you be killin' me playin' inside my pubic hairs
I never worry 'bout them other chicks
'Cuz you proved who was your wiz when you was spinnin' that bitch

I took a little when you was up North, your comisary stay pilin'
How you livin' large on the island, all them collects have me vex
But when you come home
Knew I was comin' off wit half of dem checks

Now we on the rise, your diamond mami wit the slanted eyes
Holdin' this grip cocked the green and the shit
Fucks no, I see half o' the dough
Made you into a star, pushin' hundred thousand dollar cars

Ain't no nigga like the one I got
(No one can fuck you betta)
Sleeps around but he gives me a lot
(Keeps you in diamonds and leathers)

Friends'll tell me I should leave you alone
(Ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha)
Tell the freaks to find a man o' they own
Man o' they own, man o' they own

Ain't no nigga like the one I got
(No one can fuck you betta)
Sleeps around but he gives me a lot
(Keeps you in diamonds and leathers)
Friends'll tell me I should leave you alone

Play the MP3 online for free!
f87ead1937fe41747a1bb92409bb2830

Z - Ain'T No Nigga - Foxy Brown - Lyrics - Bring It On: The Best Of - Jay

Title: Z - Ain'T No Nigga - Foxy Brown
Album: Bring It On: The Best Of
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Dennis Lambert, Tyrone Thomas, Shawn Carter, August Moon, Brian Potter

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

Lyric:
Foxy Brown
What? Jay-Z, what

I keep it fresher than the next bitch
No need for you to ever sweat the next bitch
With speed, I make the best bitch see the exit, indeed
You gotta know you're thoroughly respected by me

You get the keys to the Lexus with no driver
You gotcha own '96 suh-in, the ride
And keep your ass tighter than Versace, that's why
You gotta watch your friends you got to watch me, they connivin' shit

The first chance to crack the bank
They try me, all they get is 50 cent francs
And papayas, from the village to the tele
Time to kill it on your belly, no question
I got more black chicks between my sheets than Essence

They say sex is a weapon, so when I shoot
Meet your death in less than eight seconds
Still poundin' in my after life laughin', my shit is tight
Who you askin', right?

Ain't no nigga like the one I got
(No one can fuck you betta)
Sleeps around but he gives me a lot
(Keeps you in diamonds and leathers)

Friends'll tell me I should leave you alone
(Ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha)
Tell the freaks to find a man o' they own
Man o' they own, man o' they own
(Yea, yea)

Fresh to Def in Moschino, coach bag
Lookin' half black and Filipino, fakin' no jacks
Got you a beeper to feel important
Surroudin' your feet in Joanie Dega's and Charles Jordan

I keep ya dove but love
You know these ho's be makin' me weak
Y'all knows how it goes B and so I creep

I've been sinnin' since you been playin' wit Barbie and Ken 'n'
You can't change a player's game in the ninth innin'
The chrome rim spinnin' keeps 'em grinnin'
So I run way the fuck up in 'em and wrinkle the face like linen

I play hard-eh till they say God
He's keepin' it real, jigga, stay hard
Lawd, don't even trip
I never slip, nigga, get a grip

What you don't see is whatcha get
Weapons concealed, what the fuck y'all feel?
When you niggas play sick we can all get ill
(What the deal?)

Ain't no nigga like the one I got
(No one can fuck you betta)
Sleeps around but he gives me a lot
(Keeps you in diamonds and leathers)

Friends'll tell me I should leave you alone
(Ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha)
Tell the freaks to find a man o' they own
Man o' they own, man o' they own

Yo, ain't no stoppin' this, no lie
Promise to stay monogamous, I try
But love, you know these ho's be makin' me weak
Y'all knows how it goes B, so I stay deep

What up, boo? Just keep me laced in the illa snakes
Bank rolls and shit, back rubs in the French tub
Mackin' this bitch, wifee, nigga
So when you flip that coke, remember the days you was dead broke

But now you're style and I raised you
Basically, made you into a don
Flippin' weight, heroin and shit, you know the pussy is all that
That's why I get bagets five carats and all that

From Dolce Gabana to H Vendell, I'm ringin' bells
So who the playa? I still keep you in the illest gators
Tailor-made so we can lay up in the shade reminiscin'
On how I fuck the best o' shit

Specially when I'm flippin' Baileys
Don't give a fuck about how you move with them other mamis
I push da Z, eatin' shrimp scampi with rocks larger than life
Fuck them Reebok broads, you made it known who your wife was

I got you frontin' in Armani sweaters before this rap shit
When you was in levers and bullshit berettas
And eek classes with mo in the glasses, shows in Cali
Wit all the flavor suede Bally's

Now all your mens' up in your Benz's high post
I swear you be killin' me playin' inside my pubic hairs
I never worry 'bout them other chicks
'Cuz you proved who was your wiz when you was spinnin' that bitch

I took a little when you was up North, your comisary stay pilin'
How you livin' large on the island, all them collects have me vex
But when you come home
Knew I was comin' off wit half of dem checks

Now we on the rise, your diamond mami wit the slanted eyes
Holdin' this grip cocked the green and the shit
Fucks no, I see half o' the dough
Made you into a star, pushin' hundred thousand dollar cars

Ain't no nigga like the one I got
(No one can fuck you betta)
Sleeps around but he gives me a lot
(Keeps you in diamonds and leathers)

Friends'll tell me I should leave you alone
(Ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha)
Tell the freaks to find a man o' they own
Man o' they own, man o' they own

Ain't no nigga like the one I got
(No one can fuck you betta)
Sleeps around but he gives me a lot
(Keeps you in diamonds and leathers)
Friends'll tell me I should leave you alone

Play the MP3 online for free!
33b961f58327228e2a2e8ef64c777a6e

Friday, August 13, 2010

Z - It Ain'T Personal - Lyrics - The Best Of Both Worlds (Jay-Z & R. Kelly) - Jay

Title: Z - It Ain'T Personal
Album: The Best Of Both Worlds (Jay-Z & R. Kelly)
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): R Kelly, G Washington, O'Kelly Isley, Chris Jasper, Shawn Carter, S Barnes, Ernie Isley, Ronald Isley, Rudolph Isley, Jc Olivier, Marvin Isley

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

Lyric:
Man, they go and tell me like
You never know who your true friends until you ah umm
Both got a little bit of money
I mean cause y'all both broke
Then there's no strain on the relationship, y'all both broke
And if you got money and he ain't got no paper
He still needs you so you'll never know how he really feel about you
When y'all both get some paper, you'll see

We used to get money together, phone honies together
Pushin chromed out twinkies in custom coach leather
You claim it's all love, but nigga it's whatever
Cause this is business, it ain't personal
Same dream, same team, same schemes (mm)
We even sold to the same damn fiends (how real is dat?)
Ain't no rules in this war for this green
This is business, and it ain't personal

Look, I'm a grown man dog
And I ain't got time to be runnin behind y'all
I know when I first started it was crazy to y'all
"He's gon' start his own label, he'll never be able"
Well, nigga you've been wrong before
And you'll be wrong again if you bet against him
We move through the hood like identical twins
But it just so happen that a nigga made it rappin
You showed your true colors, y'all niggaz stay yappin
That don't stop him, a nigga weigh platinum
Stop through the hood, to say what's happenin? (sup nigga)
Fake hugz (uh-huh) fake whassup
Fake love, fake fuck, fake thugs
Gotta one myself for your fake shit, I raise up
Hop in my wheels and I peel, streets are blazed up (uh-huh)
About my bid'ness dog, y'all need to stay up - one

We used to get money together, phone honies together
Pushin chromed out twinkies in custom coach leather
You claim it's all love, but nigga it's whatever
Cause this is business, it ain't personal
Same dream, same team, same schemes
We even sold to the same damn fiends
Ain't no rules in this war for this green
This is business, and it ain't personal

I wish, I wish - that success, we could all
Get a piece of it (word) but that ain't real dog (no)
Cause in these streets it's war, the industry much more
But rich or poor, I'ma keep it real my nigga
Invest in chips and watch my money hill get bigger
And do things like, pull up to some clubs
In the skirts with Jigga, and yellin out HEY
What the fuck, pop that Cris' my nigga
And then he wants to know how many chips I done sold
Well it ain't y'all business what's behind my doors
But y'all niggaz don't appreciate shit
Helped you out and you still actin like a little bitch
Then you wonder why I put yo' ass in the tenth row
When you asked me for some tickets to my TP-2 show
Lawwwwwwd tell me, why we don't like to see us grow

We used to get money together, phone honies together
Pushin chromed out twinkies in custom coach leather
You claim it's all love, but nigga it's whatever
Cause this is business, it ain't personal
Same dream, same team, same schemes
We even sold to the same damn fiends
Ain't no rules in this war for this green
This is business, and it ain't personal

A-Alike (uh-huh) be alike (that's right)
We don't vibe no more because we don't C/see alike
And your mom got it twisted, she think Hov' changed
NopeHov's still here like Rogaine
Ask your boy what he did to the Hov' game
How he jeapordized the whole game
Now when we see each other it's so strange
I don't know whether to hug him or slug him (damn)
I don't know whether to cap him or dap him
I don't know what to think of him, I don't know what's happenin
But what I do know, all the niggaz that you know
Locked up doin a few doe, but who knows?
Maybe it wasn't you, maybe I'm buggin too (right)
But I'm scared dog, I don't know what the fuck to do
Do me a favor, place yourself in my shoes
The game, no exceptions, gotta follow the rules

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73f0c7afdacacf48a71a9686427ed6d7

Sunday, August 1, 2010

You'Z A Trick - Lyrics - I Need Mine $$ - Lil' Flip

Title: You'Z A Trick
Album: I Need Mine $$
Artist: Lil' Flip
Composer(s): Sandy Lal, Wesley Weston, Carlos Hassan, Hernst Bellevue, Salaam Remi Gibbs

Lyric:
Don't spend no money
I'm a pimp, I'm a pimp
Why you keep spendin' money?
You'z a trick, you'z a trick

Don't spend no money
I'm a pimp, I'm a pimp
Why you keep spendin' money?
You'z a trick, you'z a trick

Don't spend no money
I'm a pimp, I'm a pimp
Why you keep spendin' money?
You'z a trick, you'z a trick

Don't spend no money
I'm a pimp, I'm a pimp
Why you keep spendin' money?
You'z a trick, you'z a trick

Once again I'm back with the flow to make all y'all haters mad
I'm at the club every night but I ain't trickin' cash
Poppin' bottles, fuckin' models you know we do it big
Clip with hollows if you follow me I'm a split ya wig
We thirty deep at the club we all iced out

Clover G's party until they cut the lights off
Drinkin', smokin', chillin' you know we get it crunk boy
VVS's in my ear this how you stunt boy
On the east they roll dutches, we smokin' blunts, boy
When we get in town look at the line in the front boy

Now listen ma, you know, you rollin' with a G right
And half of my crew already got three stripes
Y'all gettin' three mics, I'm gettin' four and better
That nigga wanna fuck you, I just want yo' cheddar
I'm on another level, take a look at my bezel
If yo' baby daddy wanna fight, tell him it's whatever

Don't spend no money
I'm a pimp, I'm a pimp
Why you keep spendin' money?
You'z a trick, you'z a trick

Don't spend no money
I'm a pimp, I'm a pimp
Why you keep spendin' money?
You'z a trick, you'z a trick

Don't spend no money
I'm a pimp, I'm a pimp
Why you keep spendin' money?
You'z a trick, you'z a trick

Don't spend no money
I'm a pimp, I'm a pimp
Why you keep spendin' money?
You'z a trick, you'z a trick

Aye I got my cash up, my top down, these hoes think I'm hot now
Grippin' grain, diamond chain five karat rocks now
Don't nobody get it poppin' like my crew do it
If the music too fast homey, I can screw it

24's on H2's drop top, candy blue
Ya friend wanna leave with me but shit,I'm tryna leave with you
I can show you all my game, pimpin' ain't gon' never change
Get my money in arrange you might get a clover chain

I be drivin' state to state, pimpin' hoes, makin' cake
Clover G's collared shirt, tennis shoes, baby, they
I do drive but half of the time, I'm too high
Alligator air force ones, girl, I'm too fly

'Cause I'm caked up my wrist jac'd up
I don't know why these niggaz hate us
But I'm a stay paid and chop on blades
'Cause every time you trick my money get made, yeah

Don't spend no money
I'm a pimp, I'm a pimp
Why you keep spendin' money?
You'z a trick, you'z a trick

Don't spend no money
I'm a pimp, I'm a pimp
Why you keep spendin' money?
You'z a trick, you'z a trick

Don't spend no money
I'm a pimp, I'm a pimp
Why you keep spendin' money?
You'z a trick, you'z a trick

Don't spend no money
I'm a pimp, I'm a pimp
Why you keep spendin' money?
You'z a trick, you'z a trick

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c688305cacdcae42ba2590f2972669d0

Friday, July 30, 2010

Listen - Lyrics - Face Off - Bow Wow

Title: Listen
Album: Face Off
Artist: Bow Wow
Composer(s): Omari Grandberry, Ronnie Jackson, Shad Moss, Jayshawn Smith

Lyric:
I?m saying my
I finally found the right girl for me
I?m saying
You my dawg
So you ain?t gotta worry about lil mama
Coming between what we do
We still homies at the end of the day, believe that

No no no, I don?t wanna know it
She got him where she want him
And he?s too lost to know it, know it
It?s too late to tell him
He caught in that position where he won?t listen
Even if I yell it
Just tryna help before he let that river push him off into something deep
I wish he would think, I wish he would think
Or listen to me

I got a love jones but I?m not Lorenz Tate
How would it sound if I asked you on a date?
I know a place me and you girl can get away
My z tryna talk to me forget what they say
She?ll ride for
She a down chick
Many of them chicks to the exit quick
Let the hate
They gon hate but them z can?t tell me shit
Let her meet my mama
She don?t be with all that drama
Spend bread on my broad
Cuz she know it ain?t a problem

I splurge on my lady
Hit the mall with my lady
I love my lady
I know she would never play
She moan and groaning
Make them sounds
Every time a lay that pipe down
Give it to her how she want it when she want
That grown man
Yup girl that?s my style
I finally found the right girl
Think I might wife her
My don?t like her
But girl I?m the type of
Dude that?ll do anything for his lady
Can it trust you? Yeah, that?s my lady

No no no, I don?t wanna know it
She got him where she want him
And he?s too lost to know it, know it
It?s too late to tell him
He caught in that position where he won?t listen
Even if I yell it
Just tryna help before he let that river push him off into something deep
I wish he would think I wish he would think
Or listen to me

Now what am I gonna do what am I gonna say
Been in this position before
Put my man up on game said I was tryna hate now he ain?t my no more
I don?t want the same thing to go down between me and Bow
We getting this money man
There?s gotta be a way to do this cause my z walking around clueless
Do I? Come right out and talk about it?
Or do I just beat around the bush about it?
Or should I, let Lil Ronnie tell him for me?
No I feel obligated that?s my homie
What would you do if you was me man?
Tell him the truth or let it be man?
I?m stuck between a rock and hard place
But I got stop my boy from getting played

No no no, I don?t wanna know it
She got him where she want him
And he?s too lost to know it, know it
It?s too late to tell him
He caught in that position where he won?t listen
Even if I yell it
Just tryna help before he let that river push him off into something deep
I wish he would think I wish he would think
Or listen to me

Now Bow I?m tell you from experience
(Man what?s happening)
On the real you need to gon? and give it up
(Yeah, whatever)
You been loving her trusting her keeping her
(Yeah yeah)
But she?s been playing ya replacing ya faking ya
(Man look, ah look)

Man she a real chick a down chick
She got money she ain?t tryna get rich quick
She ain?t stunting other z man it?s all about me
When I ask her ?who?s it is? she replies Bow Weazey
I heard she got a and a baby cranberry Mercedes
(Nah!)
Listen to your dawg man your girl is being shady
(What!)
Got that from a very reliable source
(O, who said that?)
Very reliable source
Man look ah just be happy for your O
Damn why you hating why don?t you go?on and get you one?
What you mad cause we dating
Dawg it ain?t like that
Bow you know I got ya back
(Act like it man)
I don?t wanna see you get played by no hood rat
What? Dawg she ain?t no hood rat!
Watch how you talk about her when it come to lil mama
Man I get down for her
I knew I shouldn?t told your, you coming at me like

No no no I don?t wanna know it
She got him where she want him
And he?s too lost to know it, know it
It?s too late to tell him
He caught in that position where he won?t listen
Even if I yell it
Just tryna help before he let that river push him off into something deep
I wish he would think I wish he would think
Or listen to me

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aa4cc24e6b315425fe7cb07d76b71ff4

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Ain'T Nothing Like Pimpin' - Lyrics - Cocktails - Too $Hort

Title: Ain'T Nothing Like Pimpin'
Album: Cocktails
Artist: Too $Hort
Composer(s): Eric Breed, Ramon Russell Gooden, Stuart Jordan, Pee Wee Todd Anthony Shaw, Shorty

Lyric:
Ain't nuthin like pimpin just let it roll
Mother fucking shit god damn asshole
Ain't nuthin like pimpin just don't quit
Mother fuck you damn shithead bitch

My diamonds and the Lex say it's time to flow
Wonder how I got rich, they say I rhyme too slow, so
I'm from the "O" I for what I know
And like I told your ass before you can fuck my hoe
I ride nuthin but vogues, ain't hittin no switches
Top down in my Caddy just me and my bitches
With a Ziplock bag full of green weed
I roll it all up 'cause I'm a fiend in need
Of some dank smoke all up in my chest
Dangerous Crew got the bomb, we don't smoke that stress
'Cause we getting funky on album 9
I smoked a few joints bitch now I'm fine
Studio's in a cloud
Smelling kind of loud
Nuthin like pimpin
Nigga fuck Bill Clinton
Make me the mother fucking president
I'll make the White House a hoe house and all the pimps, To just
Set up shops like they do in Vegas
Legalize pimpin for all the playa's
Puttin fine ass bitches in the streets and the hood
Every year a nigga trade for a new Fleetwood
You know I'm rollin, I can't be faking
I come through and all your hoes I'm taking
You know I'm rolling, don't do no simpin
I'm an Oaktown playa ain't nuthin like pimpin
Ain't nuthin like the pimp game you should know
Never love a bitch or a hoe
You fell in love with her though trying to get in them pants
And the next thing ya know your baby momma's a tramp
Don't get mad now nigga want to shove the bitch
'Cause a year ago, you know, you loved the bitch
Now your stomache's upset and your feelings are hurt
She gotcha looking like an old banana peel in the dirt
Bitch, slipped up and hit your ass for a lick
Talking that mother fucking baby shit
You'z a punk ass nigga can't you see
Thatz the difference between niggas like you and me
I got bitches, on my mind
It's been like that for a real long time
I know the way them hoes take your cash
They let you fuck and make you pay up fast
Trick nigga, why you wanna be like that
Let them try for lent bitches take your fat ass stack
Couldn't tell them hoes nuthin but the punk in you
'Cause they already know what they want from you
Big bank, Ben Franklin, do the bitch just fine
She'll be taking all of yours and can't fuck with mine
I'm the M to the A to the C and K
All you playa hating niggas shouldn't be that way

There ain't nuthin like pimpin just let it roll
Mother fucking shit god damn asshole
Ain't nuthin like pimping just don't quit
Mother fuck you damn shit head bitch

Lights, camera, action, cut
Hollywood look out the bitch is coming up
She took acting classes 'bout to be on her way
On a Greyhound bus from home to L.A
She said it wouldn't take long to make it to the top
A few auditions land a job
I was down in L.A., hit the club for a drink
I'm a player ass nigga tell me what do ya think
I walked up to the bitch in my clean ass suit
And I told her, I've been watching you
I peeped you out from the bar
You must be a model or a movie star
She said "No, but that's my dream
To see my face on the movie screen"
I tell ya nothing but game came out my mouth
She was talking 'bout agents, I was turning her out
I said "Listen real close to what I'm saying
All you need is meyou don't need no agent"
I'm a pimp ass nigga and the game don't stop
"All you gotta do is fuck a few big shots
Cause if you can't do that, they're going to hold ya back"
She was sucking up the game, down to do all that
She said "Short baby, I ain't no simp"
But the nigga in the suit ain't nuthin but a pimp
And all them white guys you had sex with
They weren't big shots, they were nothing but tricks
She came to me and said it just won't last
I looked, and I laughed, and I kicked her ass
'Cause all she wanted was the fame
But you can't get shit when you don't have game

Guerilla pimpin just let it roll
Mother fucking shit god damn asshole
Guerilla pimps just don't quit
I say mother fuck you damn shithead bitch

Ain't nuthin like pimpin now you know
I want a bitch thats an everyday hoe
Just a Beyotch

There ain't nuthin like pimp now you know
I want a bitch thats a top notch hoe
Just a Beyotch

Mother fuck you damn shithead bitch

Ain't nuthin like pimpin now you know
I want a bitch thats an everyday hoe
Just a Beyotch

Mother fucking shit god damn asshole

There ain't nuthin like pimping now you know
I want a bitch thats an everyday hoe
Just a Beyotch

Say mother fuck you damn shithead beyatch

Mmm Mmm Mmmmmm

Mother fucking shit god damn asshole

Nuthin but a pimp

Mother fuck you damn shithead bitch

Short Dogg ain't nuthin but a pimp

Mother fucking shit god damn asshole

Cuss words. Mother fuck you damn shithead beyotch

Nuthin like pimpin now you know
Ain't nuthin like pimpin so now you know

Beyotch

There ain't nothing like pimpin now you know

Ain't nuthin like pimping damn shithead bitch
Ain't nuthin like pimpin so now you know

There ain't nothing like pimping god damn asshole

Ah

That's it nigga, there is no more. Life is

Thatz deep. Yeah. That right. There ain't nothing like a bitch
Ain't nothing like a mother fucking, BITCH
You, nasty, once a month bleeding mother fucking nasty ass mother fuck it
(Takes a deep breath)
BITCH, I hate your mother fucking ass. You mother fucking Beeeeeeyoooootch
BeyotchAnd your momma too. Fuck all yall. Hahahaha

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057b29417cd70e2e2c8e2ea158a28695

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

9 To 5 - Lyrics - Public Warning - Lady Sovereign

Title: 9 To 5
Album: Public Warning
Artist: Lady Sovereign
Composer(s): Gabriel Olegavich, Louise Harman

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

Lyric:
Okay yo

I wake up late every morning
Managers calling, I'm still yawning
Get up, wake up, hair and makeups
Waiting for you, don't be sawing

This performance is important
I don't think I can put my all in
Hold on, I was d**** last night
It was all kicking in and I don't feel right

Gave my number to a breh who wasn't my type
Now my phones on silent, I'm being polite
Now private callers get no love from me
Just let me be

Oh my gosh
My days are getting longer
And there's no turning back
'Cause I'm working a 9 to 5

Just to keep my contract
Did I say 9? I meant 1:30
I ain't no early birdy, I'm lazy that's all that I can say
So make sure you heard me

And there's no turning back
'Cause I'm working a 9 to 5

So you gotta do sum item for Channel U
Channel who sorry who I'm altered for snooze
Oh, Channel U the ones that made me huge
Like Katie Prices bleam, whoops I'm being rude

Where's my Red Bull and my sandwich?
I need food, I can't handle this
I'm getting pissed like pampers throwing a tantrum
Action

Nah, actually rather catch my Z's
And count sheep in my sleep
Let's not wake her up
She actually looks quite sweet

Oh my gosh
My days are getting longer
And there's no turning back
'Cause I'm working a 9 to 5

Just to keep my contract
Did I say 9? I meant 1:30
I ain't no early birdy, I'm lazy that's all that I can say
So make sure you heard me

I ain't no early birdy
Won't wake up till 12:30

Could it be bothered to say much ere?
So, oh dear
Huh, where am I man?
This, this ain't good what's going on?

So my label would change my image
I'm a pink lipstick chick called dipstick
This ain't on my wish list
Oh, s*** I'm in FHM posing in a bikini

Next to a Lamborghini
Next stop the theme tune for Tweenies
I'm presenting C-beebies, have you seen me?
Never again, am I drinking Lamborghini

It's alright Sov, it's a dream
Just wake up

Oh my gosh
My days are getting longer
And there's no turning back
'Cause I'm working a 9 to 5

Just to keep my contract
Did I say 9? I meant 1:30
I ain't no early birdy, I'm lazy that's all that I can say
So make sure you heard me

I ain't no early birdy
Won't wake up to 12:30

And I couldn't be bothered to say much err
So I'll say it again

Oh my gosh
My days are getting longer
And there's no turning back
'Cause I'm working a 9 to 5

Just to keep my contract
Did I say 9? I meant 1:30
I ain't no early birdy, I'm lazy that's all that I can say
So make sure you heard me

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83f24fc572e04581d789b97efc9fc91c

Friday, August 20, 2010

Z - Money Ain'T A Thang - Lyrics - Vol. 2... Hard Knock Life - Jay

Title: Z - Money Ain'T A Thang
Album: Vol. 2... Hard Knock Life
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Steven R Arrington, Charles C Carter, Shawn C Carter, Waung Hankerson, Roger Parker, Jermaine Dupri

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

Lyric:
Uh uh
So so def
Yeah, yeah

In the Ferrari or Jaguar, switchin' four lanes
With the top down screamin' out
Money ain't a thang

Bubble hard in the double are flashin' the rings
With the window cracked, holler back
Money ain't a thang

Jigga, I don't like it if it don't gleam clean
And to hell with the price
'Cause the money ain't a thang

Put it down hard for my dogs that's locked in the bang
When you hit the bricks, new whips
Money ain't a thang

Come on, y'all wanna floss wit us
'Cause all across the ball we burn it up
Drop a little paper, baby toss it up
Slackin' on your pimpin', turn it up
See the money ain't a thang

I flex the rol', sign a check for yo' hoe
Jigga's style is love, X and O
Save all your accolades, just the dough
My game is wide, all lames aside

Tryin' to stay alive, hundred thou' for the bracelet
Foolish, ain't I the chain'll strain ya eye
Twin platinum gun son, aim for the sky
Ice on my bullet, you die soon as I pull it

Willies wanna rub shoulders, your money's too young
See me when it gets older, ya bank account grow up
Mine's is one-zero-zero-zero-zero-oh-doub'
Damn near out the rear trunk when I roll up

Multi till I close up, it's all basic
I been spending hundreds since they had small faces
Rob your stash house, doubled out down in Vegas
Me and Jay-Z got it locked crazy
Where you at haters?

In the Ferrari or Jaguar, switchin' four lanes
With the top down screamin' out
Money ain't a thang

Bubble hard in the double r flashin' the rings
With the window cracked, holler back
Money ain't a thang

Jigga, I don't like it if it don't gleam clean
And to hell with the price
'Cause the money ain't a thang

Put it down hard for my dogs that's locked in the bang
When you hit the bricks, new whips
Money ain't a thang

Y'all wanna floss wit us
'Cause all across the ball we burn it up
Drop a little paper, baby toss it up
It's slackin' on your pimpin', turn it up
See the money ain't a thang

My cake thick, I live the life
Eatin' crab, watching bitches shake shit all night
I make the big moves, do the big things
Take small groups, turn them into big names

The big dog with the big chain, frost bit bracelet to match
Cats say I'm the shit man
The type of nigga that you need in yo' crew
Type of dude that will do shit you won't do, can't do

Get more burnt than a candle
Too hot to hold, too much to handle
In the black C-low, he know if she look
She go bye-bye with da-da and I ain't gotta say no more

I'm the truth like air, got the proof and stay fly
In the safest shit you could never buy
Know why 'cause I write the songs that the whole world sing
I don't know bout y'all but every night I swing

In the Ferrari or Jaguar, switchin' four lanes
With the top down screamin' out
Money ain't a thang

Bubble hard in the double are flashin' the rings
With the window cracked, holler back
Money ain't a thang

Jigga, I don't like it if it don't gleam clean
And to hell with the price
'Cause the money ain't a thang

Put it down hard for my dogs that's locked in the bang
When you hit the bricks, new whips
Money ain't a thang

Y'all wanna floss wit us
'Cause all across the ball we burn it up
Drop a little paper, baby toss it up
Slackin' on your pimpin', turn it up
See the money ain't a thang

Y'all shit ain't for real till y'all ship a mil'
And ya hit a R&B chick and she fit the bill
Said she loved my necklace, started relaxin'
Now that's what the fuck I call a chain reaction

Went from wholesome to jigga, you owed some
Baby, I don't play all my jewelry is light grey
Platinum, spend your whole life in the day
What's down is a bet, roll the dice

Yeah, yeah, so let's play
So what, you went gold and Rock a Roley with the ice bezel
It's gonna take a lot more to see my level
Where I'm at, your check, you better double that

And personally your raps is where the trouble at
I'm a Benz bubble cat, leather with the wood grain
In the platinum frame screaming it's not a game
Gleaming, from ear to ear, wrist to wrist, ring and chain
Even me and Jay-z got it locked, crazy

In the Ferrari or Jaguar, switchin' four lanes
With the top down screamin' out
Money ain't a thang

Bubble hard in the double r flashin' the rings
With the window cracked, holler back
Money ain't a thang

Jigga, I don't like it if it don't gleam clean
And to hell with the price
'Cause the money ain't a thang

Put it down hard for my dogs that's locked in the bang
When you hit the bricks, new whips
Money ain't a thang

Y'all wanna floss wit us
'Cause all across the ball we burn it up
Drop a little paper, baby toss it up
Slackin' on your pimpin', turn it up
See the money ain't a thang

So, so def, roc-a-fella, collabo'
You know, all we do is rock, rock on
Rock, rock on, rock, rock on

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4b68a0d8ff674d638d1e341b6a51ed6c

Friday, July 30, 2010

Fuck Big Boy - Lyrics - B.G.

Title: Fuck Big Boy
Artist: B.G.
Composer(s): Christopher Dorsey, Byron O Thomas

Lyric:
I'm back again, reppin' and I got my four ten
Doin' you in when I creeps and spin the bin
Now the heat is on, I'm comin' to get'cha
Went through the 17th and couldn't even find ya

Come to find out, that you were fat mouthin' and you'z a hoe
The only time you seen the 17th is at a show
Jealous muthafuckas wanna be like me
I represent that 3, the capital T-E-C

You bitches better keep my name out'cha mouth
Before I get a bag of that fire and wait outside your house
Nigga, I catch a drain, ain't no motive, ain't no blame
On what I do ya 'cuz I'ma fuck over you

Now what's up? 'Cuz I don't think you ready to see no blood
Fuck all that asshole and leave ya fuckin' head swollen
I hit like floods, better yet I stick like mud
Them bitches P-N-C, I leave 'em in a pool of blood

Partners-N-Crime, y'all some bitches, y'all some snitches
You stupid clown, Chuck got'cha riches

Partners you bet not do no crime
Get no time and go to jail
'Cuz in that two man cell, best believe you gone get nailed
Mystikal you'z a hoe, it's time I Iet'cha know

Y'all ain't ready for Local five, got a boot camp fulla hoes
I'm gat totin', ready to leave your heart open
Bullets floatin', hot nine chambers smokin'

Uptown, ya bound to get y'all wig split
Y'all represent a 17th set that don't even exist
Now that's a shame, you reppin' just to get a name
You can't survive in this game 'cuz you niggas lame

I'm ready to take it to some 'G' shit, street shit
Where caps get peeled and wigs bound to get split
I'm off Valence, ain't no doubt this B.G. ain't real
I'm bout to [unverified] hiccup some bullets out my fuckin' steel

Peel, make niggas kneel, bow down
From this clown that's gonna put you six in the ground
It's time a nigga put Big Boy where the fuck they belong
Rollin' wit Tec-9, snortin' dope, best believe it's on

Partners-N-Crime you ain't nothin' but bitches
Lick on the nuts and suck the dick
Big Boy know, they ain't nothin' but hoes
You can jump up on this dick, like a morphodyke, biatch

Partners-N-Crime you ain't nothin' but bitches
Lick on the nuts and suck the dick
Big Boy know, they ain't nothin' but hoes
You can jump up on this dick, like a morphodyke, biatch

Say, "Ah ha, Ah ha", yeah, you thought it was funny
When you tried to rap, hunt, stunt, front, on Ca$h Money
You must have been jealous of that title that we holdin'
Try to rep on that Local 580

You must have been too loaded, too loaded, too loaded
They tried to pull a lil' stunt, on that Local 580
Wanna be Pimp Daddy, Lil' Slim, and Baby
They put that whole CMR all up in they rap

They had us on they first tape and they proceed to sweat
So let's show them wannabes what we made of nigga
Try to knock a B.G., I'ma spray a nigga
Swear to God you was hard but you don't want none of me

'Cuz I'm a little-bitty killa off Amelia East
So put two and fall, see I ain't with that boy
'Cuz all I do is grab my 9 and break a nigga off
Somethin' proper, I will make you droppa

I'ma baby gangsta, not no P-poppa
This is dedicated to niggas that be fakin'
Tried to rock the crowd for the turf but couldn't make it
It was complicated so how you gonna rock them?

While they was busy doin' the Hike and Eddie Bow'n
I'ma stand my ground even though you try to bring me down
'Cuz I'ma Ca$h Money clown from that Uptown and I'm 'bout it
Nigga you know you not 'bout it
Come around my way I'ma have to get rowdy

Damn, I hate a busta bitch talkin' shit
But when drama time come they scared to do it
Throw them thangs talkin' hard in the Mic
Say it in my face, be a man and let's fight

Take it to the street with a real baby G
I'ma show ya I came bust caps send ya six feet
I ain't 'bout none of that playin' or assholin'
Nigga I'm splittin' wigs, leavin' heads swollen

Mystikal slippin' and on the pavement you get laid
Light up through ya hoe, I'ma grab you by them dookey braids
Put'cha head down 'cuz I heard about'cha
In Desert Storm, Uncle Sam got that mouth up out'cha

So let me get that out'cha bitch
I'ma run in your shit
'Cuz I'm a 13th nigga and I'm bout it

Partners-N-Crime you ain't nothin' but bitches
Lick on the nuts and suck the dick
Big Boy know, they ain't nothin' but hoes
You can jump up on this dick, like a morphodyke, biatch

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358d7ca44cdfc51b08225529f81ff079

Friday, August 20, 2010

Z - Points Of Authority / 99 Problems / One Step Closer - Lyrics - Collision Course - Jay

Title: Z - Points Of Authority / 99 Problems / One Step Closer
Album: Collision Course
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Chester Charl Bennington, Robert G. Bourdon, Norman Landsberg, Mike Shinoda, Brad Delson, Leslie Weinstein, Felix Pappalardi, John Ventura, Shawn Carter, Alphonso Henderson, Joseph Hahn, Billy Squier, Tracy Marrow

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

Lyric:
If you havin' girl problems, I feel bad for you, son
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one, hit me
He's gotta mike

He's got the rap patrol on the gat patrol
Foes that wanna make sure his casket's closed
Rap critics that say he's "Money Cash Hoes"
He's from the hood stupid, what type of facts are those

If you grew up with holes in your zapitos
You'd celebrate the minute you was havin' doe
So, fuck critics, you can kiss our whole asshole
If you don't like my lyrics, you can press fast forward

Beef with radio, if we don't play they show
They don't play out hits, we don't give a shit, so
All these mags try and use our ass
So, advertisers can give 'em more cash for ads, fuckers

I don't know what you take us as
Or understand the intelligence that Jay-Z has
From rags to riches, nigga, we ain't dumb
We got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one, hit me

99 problems but a bitch ain't one
If you havin' girl problems, I feel bad for you, son
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one

And the year is '94 and in my trunk is raw
In the rear view mirror is the mother fuckin' law
I got two choices ya'll, pull over the car or
Bounce on the Devil, put the pedal to the floor

Now, I ain't tryin' to see no highway chase with Jake
Plus, I got a few dollars, I can fight the case
So, I pull over to the side of the road
I heard, "Son, do you know what I'm stoppin you for?"

'Cause I'm young and I'm black and my hats real low
Do I look like a mind reader, Sir? I don't know
Am I under arrest or should I guess some mo?
You was doin' fifty five in a fifty four

License and registration and step out of the car
Are you carryin' a weapon on you? I know alot of you are
Well, I ain't steppin' out of shit, all my papers legit
But do you mind if I look around the car a little bit?

Well, my glove compartment is locked so is the trunk and the back
And I know my rights, so, you gon' need a warrant for that
Aren't you sharp as a tack, get me some type of lawyer or some
Somebody important or somethin'?

Ha, I ain't pass the bar but I know a little bit
Enough that you won't illegally search my shit
We'll see how smart you are when the K-9's come
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one, hit me

99 problems but a bitch ain't one
If you havin' girl problems, I feel bad for you, son
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one, hit me

99 problems but a bitch ain't one
If you havin' girl problems, I feel bad for you, son
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one, hit me

99 problems but a bitch ain't one
If you havin' girl problems, I feel bad for you, son
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one, hit me

99 problems but a bitch ain't one
If you havin' girl problems, I feel bad for you, son
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one

Now, once upon a time, not too long ago
A nigga like myself had to strong arm a hoe
This is not a hoe in the sense of havin' a pussy
But a pussy havin' no goddamn sense, try and push me

I tried to ignore him and talk to the Lord
Pray for him 'cause some fools just love to perform
You know the type, loud as a motor bike
But wouldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight

The only thing that's gonna happen is I'ma get to clappin'
He and his boys gon' be yappin' to the captain
And there I go traped in the kit, kat again
Back through the system with the riff, raff again

Fiends on the floor scratchin' again
Paparatzi's with they cameras snappin' them
D A tried to give the nigga the shaft again
Half-a-mil for bail 'cause I'm African

All because this fool was harrasin' them
Tryin' to play the boy like he's saccarin
But ain't nothin' sweet 'bout how I hold my gun
I got 99 problems, being a bitch ain't one

99 problems but a bitch ain't one
If you havin' girl problems, I feel bad for you, son
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one, hit me

99 problems but a bitch ain't one
If you havin' girl problems, I feel bad for you, son
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one, hit me

Shut up when I'm talking to you
Shut up, shut up, shut up
Shut up when I'm talking to you
Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up
I'm about to break

(Everything you say to me)
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one, hit me
(I need a little room to breathe)
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one, hit me

(Everything you say to me)
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one, hit me
(I need a little room to breathe)
I got 99 problems and I'm about to break

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36b7269a683c0765deb650c009f28b0e

Z - Money Ain'T A Thing - Lyrics - Jay

Title: Z - Money Ain'T A Thing
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Steven R Arrington, Charles C Carter, Shawn C Carter, Waung Hankerson, Roger Parker, Jermaine Dupri

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

Lyric:
Uh, uh, so so Def
Yeah, yeah

In the Ferrari or Jaguar, switchin' four lanes
With the top down screamin' out, 'Money ain't a thang'
Bubble hard in the double R, flashin' the rings
With the window cracked, holler back, money ain't a thang

Jigga, I don't like it if it don't gleam, gleam
And to hell with the price 'cause the money ain't a thang
Put it down hard for my dogs that's locked in the bang
When you hit the bricks, new whips, money ain't a thang

Y'all wanna floss wit us
'Cause all across the ball we burn it up
Drop a little paper, baby toss it up
Ya slackin' on your pimpin', turn it up, see the money ain't a thang

I flex the Rol', sign a check for yo' hoe
Jigga's style is love, X and O
Save all your accolades, just the dough
My game is wide, all lames aside

Tryin' to stay alive, hundred thou' for the bracelet
Foolish, ain't I? The chain'll strain ya eye
Twin platinum gun, son, aim for the sky
Ice on my bullet, you die soon as I pull it

Willies wanna rub shoulders, your money's too young
See me when it gets older, ya bank account grow up
Mine's is one, zero, zero, zero, oh doub'
Damn, near out the rear trunk when I roll up

Multi 'til I close up, it's all basic
I been spending hundreds since they had small faces
Rob your stash house, doubled out down in Vegas
Me and J.D. got it locked crazy, where you at haters?

In the Ferrari or Jaguar, switchin' four lanes
With the top down screamin' out, 'Money ain't a thang'
Bubble hard in the double R flashin' the rings
With the window cracked, holler back, money ain't a thang

Jigga, I don't like it if it don't gleam, gleam
And to hell with the price 'cause the money ain't a thang
Put it down hard for my dogs that's locked in the bang
When you hit the bricks, new whips, money ain't a thang

Y'all wanna floss wit us
'Cause all across the ball we burn it up
Drop a little paper, baby toss it up
Ya slackin' on your pimpin', turn it up, see the money ain't a thang

My cake thick, I live the life
Eatin' crab, watching bitches shake shit all night
I make the big moves, do the big things
Take small groups, turn them into big names

The big dog with the big chain, frostbit bracelet to match
Cats say, I'm the shit man
The type of nigga that you need in yo' crew
Type of dude that will do shit you won't do, can't do

Get more burn than a candle
Too hot to hold, too much to handle
In the black C-low, he know if she look
She go bye, bye with da, da and I ain't gotta say no mo'

I'm 'The Truth' like A.I., got the proof and stay fly
In the safest shit you could never buy
Know why? 'Cause I write the songs that the whole world sing
I don't know about y'all but every night I swing

In the Ferrari or Jaguar, switchin' four lanes
With the top down screamin' out, 'Money ain't a thang'
Bubble hard in the double R flashin' the rings
With the window cracked, holler back, money ain't a thang

Jigga, I don't like it if it don't gleam, gleam
And to hell with the price 'cause the money ain't a thang
Put it down hard for my dogs that's locked in the bang
When you hit the bricks, new whips, money ain't a thang

Y'all wanna floss wit us
'Cause all across the ball we burn it up
Drop a little paper, baby toss it up
Ya slackin' on your pimpin', turn it up, see the money ain't a thang

Y'all shit ain't for real 'til y'all ship a mil'
And ya hit a R and B chick and she fit the bill
Said, she loved my necklace, started relaxin'
Now that's what the fuck I call a chain reaction

Went from wholesome to Jigga, you awesome
Baby, I don't play all my jewelry is light gray
Platinum, spend your whole life in the day
What's down is a bet, roll the dice

So what you went gold and rock a Roley with the ice bezel
It's gon' take a lot mo' to see my level
Where I'm at your check, you better double that
And personally your raps is where the trouble at

I'm a Benz bubble cat, leather with the wood grain
In the platinum frame screamin' it's not a game
Gleamin', from ear to ear, wrist to wrist, ring and chain
Even me and Jay-Z got it locked, crazy

In the Ferrari or Jaguar, switchin' four lanes
With the top down screamin' out, 'Money ain't a thang'
Bubble hard in the double R flashin' the rings
With the window cracked, holler back, money ain't a thang

Jigga, I don't like it if it don't gleam gleam
And to hell with the price 'cause the money ain't a thang
Put it down hard for my dogs that's locked in the bang
When you hit the bricks, new whips, money ain't a thang

Y'all wanna floss wit us
'Cause all across the ball we burn it up
Drop a little paper, baby toss it up
Ya slackin' on your pimpin', turn it up, see the money ain't a thang

So so Def, Roc-A-Fella, collabo'
You know, all we do is
Rock, rock on, rock, rock on, rock, rock on

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