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

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7e07ef12c89334458f6aefbae3f5a1cd

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 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

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33b961f58327228e2a2e8ef64c777a6e

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

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

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

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Fuck Dat Nigga - Lyrics - Lil' Flip

Title: Fuck Dat Nigga
Artist: Lil' Flip
Composer(s): Wesley Weston, Writer Unknow

Lyric:
Oh yeah, all the fucked niggaz gotta get the fuck out the way
Know what time it is nigga, Screwed Up Click

Man, fuck that nigga
(Fuck that nigga)
Keep running your mouth
I'ma touch that nigga

Man, fuck that nigga
(Fuck that nigga)
You ain't heard about my state
We Screwed Up nigga

Will-Lean you riding
(Yeah, I'm riding)
B.G. Duke you riding
(Yeah I'm riding)

Z-Ro, you riding
(Yeah, I'm riding)
Point Blank, you riding
(Hell yeah, I'm riding)

Motherfuck you, I'll rush you, bitch, I don't trust you
Like AT&T, my guillotines reach out and touch ya
Bust ya like a head off your shoulders, then dust ya
Pluck my Desert Eagle to the bone, then crush ya

See I'm a hustler, just look at my wrist
All yellow canary diamonds, looking like piss
Yo Flip, these boys acting sour
I got money and respect, plus I'm packing power

Stacking up dollars, niggaz wanna fuck with me
If it's hood, it's all good, so tuck your heat
Even though I'm on parole, I still clutch my heat
Pick up the street sweeper, to sweep up the street

I got my serve, that ain't your mama
Smack you with the pistol and tell ya, I ain't your mama
I'm ready for drama, I sleep with the fo' pound
It ain't shit to send my free lancers to your town

Ladies, we just ain't talking 'bout you
'Cause some of these niggaz is bitches too
And you know who, no need to say no name
I'ma gas these niggaz up, like a tank of propane

They say we ain't strapped, they lied to ya
They say Flip ain't from Cloverland, they lied to ya
We got the mansion,n three kitchen, ain't lying brah
Maybach, reclining seats, 'case we get tired, brah

Man, fuck that nigga
(Fuck that nigga)
Keep running your mouth
I'ma touch that nigga

Man, fuck that nigga
(Fuck that nigga)
You ain't heard about my state
We Screwed Up nigga

Will-Lean, you riding
(Yeah, I'm riding)
B.G. Duke, you riding
(Yeah I'm riding)

Z-Ro, you riding
(Yeah, I'm riding)
Point Blank, you riding
(Hell yeah, I'm riding)

Every time I open my mouth, I'ma see talking shit
Fuck a rap nigga, I slap niggaz, it's best you keep on walking bitch
I represent the Southside of Screwston, Texas
Got my name spinning in yellow diamonds
Right up under my Rap-A-Lot necklace

But fuck some shine, brah, I'll loosen your tooth
Better get wet ya with my tech weapon and swoop in the coupe
'Cause I'm a gangsta my nigga, coming from the left side
Equipped with a pistol grip, that will open your chest wide

I'm the King of the Ghetto, I gave myself that name
Ain't nobody help me get rich, I made myself that change
Talking 'bout charging me twenty thousand dollars to spit a verse
Bitch, I'm a legend, read about me, fuck it, come and see about me

Right now I'm barring eleven niggaz and seven record labels
You can jump your narrow ass in line and straight up get strangled
Z-Ro, the Crooked, the gangsta of the Screwed Up Click
Fuck all that ear boxing, go 'head and lace ya shoes up, bitch

Man, fuck that nigga
(Fuck that nigga)
Keep running your mouth
I'ma touch that nigga

Man, fuck that nigga
(Fuck that nigga)
You ain't heard about my state
We Screwed Up nigga

Will-Lean, you riding
(Yeah, I'm riding)
B.G. Duke, you riding
(Yeah I'm riding)

Z-Ro, you riding
(Yeah, I'm riding)
Point Blank, you riding
(Hell yeah, I'm riding)

Watch your mouth now, 'cause what you say can bring death
One day you gon' say some shit a nigga can't accept
Point Blank, the Bull, a big chip off the old block
It ain't gotta be in Cloverland to be a Clover Gee block

Boy, we run this shit, Flip having fun with this shit
And you tripping, Blank, how the fuck you get a gun in this bitch?
When I see him ninety nice, Southside gon' be iight
I know I might do some time, just shoot me a kite

I write straight from the heart, so I shoot straight for the heart
If Flip said fuck T.I., then it's fuck that mark
Southsi' for li', till I flat line trick
Talk a lot of shit but I can back mine, bitch, what's up?

Man, fuck that nigga
(Fuck that nigga)
Keep running your mouth
I'ma touch that nigga

Man, fuck that nigga
(Fuck that nigga)
You ain't heard about my state
We Screwed Up nigga

Will-Lean, you riding
(Yeah, I'm riding)
B.G. Duke, you riding
(Yeah, I'm riding)

Z-Ro, you riding
(Yeah, I'm riding)
Point Blank, you riding
(Hell yeah, I'm riding)

Oh no, that nigga ain't scaring me
Look, I don't wanna hear about, your ass weighing ki's
This lil' nigga ain't a threat, you a peon nigga
'Cause in my hood, I play the corner like Deon nigga

Them niggaz only fucking with you, 'cause you pay 'em for beats
And I saw that bullshit, grill you got on your teeth
My grill cost thirty G's, my ice cost fifteen
Say you gained a lil' weight if you drank some lean

Hey, I got beef with a nigga that weigh eighty pounds
He wear my bracelet in the pool, that nigga'd probably drown
Big Oomp got my back, Pastor Troy got my back
And you know, Ludacris got my fucking back

Asking 'bout my whole team, he know I roll with G's
So why should I fear a man that bleed like me
Down in Texas, we ain't feeling you, kid
As far as record sales go, I'm killing you, bitch

Man, fuck that nigga
(Fuck that nigga)
Keep running your mouth
I'ma touch that nigga

Man, fuck that nigga
(Fuck that nigga)
You ain't heard about my state
We Screwed Up nigga

Will-Lean, you riding
(Yeah, I'm riding)
B.G. Duke, you riding
(Yeah, I'm riding)

Z-Ro, you riding
(Yeah, I'm riding)
Point Blank, you riding
(Hell yeah, I'm riding)

Nigga, now how you gon' try to charge Z-Ro
Twenty grand for a mo'fucking verse
Nigga, that shit ain't worth
A goddamn wing dinner bitch

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69262aec26fb6da4c75349370d746f52

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

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Z - Nigga What, Nigga Who - Lyrics - Vol. 2... Hard Knock Life - Jay

Title: Z - Nigga What, Nigga Who
Album: Vol. 2... Hard Knock Life
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): Tim Mosley, Shawn Carter, Jonathan Burks

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

Lyric:
Uh huh, uh huh, gi-gi gi-geyeah
Roc-A-Fella y'all, uh huh, uh huh, Jigga
Timbaland shit, nine-eight beyotch
Say what, say what?
Uh huh, uh huh, follow me beyotch

(Nigga what, nigga who?)
Can't fuck with me
(Nigga what, nigga who?)
They ain't ready yet

Till switcha flow, getcha dough
Can't fuck with this Roc-A-Fella shit doe
(Uh huh, uh huh)
Switcha flow, getcha dough
Can't fuck with this Roc-A-Fella shit doe
(Yeah, yeah)

Motherfuckers wanna act loco
Hit 'em wit, numerous shots with the fo'-fo'
Faggots wanna talk to Po-Po's, smoke em like cocoa
Fuck rap, coke by the boatload

Fuck dat, on the run-by, gun high, one eye closed
Left holes through some guy clothes
Stop your bullshittin', glock with the full clip
Motherfuckers better duck when the fool spit

One shot could make a nigga do a full flip
See the nigga layin' shocked when the bullet hit
Oh hey ma, how you, know niggaz wanna buy you
But see me I wanna fuck for free like Akinyele

Now I gotta let her take this ride, make you feel it
Inside your belly, if it's tight get the K-Y Jelly
All night get you wide up inside the telly
Side to side, till you say Jay-Z you're too much for me

(Nigga what?)
Make you think you can fuck with me
(Nigga who?)
Recognize gril, Jay to the Z

(Nigga what?)
Make you think you can fuck with me
(Nigga who?)
Recognize girl, Jay to the Z

(Nigga what?)
Make you think you can fuck with me
(Nigga who?)
Recognize girl, Jay to the Z

(Nigga what?)
Make you think you can fuck with me
(Nigga who?)
Recognize bitch, Jay to the motherfuckin' Z

Got a condo with nuttin but condoms in it
The same place where the rhymes is invented
So all I do is rap and sex, imagine how I stroke
See how I was flowin' on my last cassette?

Rapid-fire like I'm blastin' a Tec, never jam though
Never get high, never run out of ammo
Niggaz hatin' an' shit 'cause I slayed your bitch
You know your favorite, I know it made you sick

And now you're, actin' raw but you never had war
Don't know how to carry your hoe, wanna marry your hoe
Now she's mad at me, 'cause Your Majesty
Just happened to be a pimp with a tragedy

She wanted, us to end, 'cause I fucked with friends
She gave me one more chance and I fucked her again
I seen her tears as she busted in, I said, "Shit
There's a draft, shut the door bitch and come on in!"

(Nigga what?)
Make you think you can fuck with me
(Nigga who?)
Recognize bitch, Jay to the Z

(Nigga what?)
Make you think you can fuck with me
(Nigga who?)
Recognize girl, Jay to the Z

(Nigga what?)
Make you think you can fuck with me
(Nigga who?)
Recognize bitch, Jay to the Z

(Nigga what?)
Make you think you can fuck with me
(Nigga who?)
Recognize bitch

Gotta vendetta even though I been better
Left him in the cold with a thin sweater
Rap niggaz on Prozac get the bozack, niggaz threw
Two at me I threw fo' back, hold that

Let the dough stack, way before Big had the gold Ac'
Dame had the Lex black
Motherfuckers wanna test that, stress that
And right where you're stressed, where you rest at

I suggest that, niggaz invest, in a vest, when I come through
With the glock jet black, you niggaz step back
I'm the best at, you know I ain't no apprentice to this
Me and my niggaz we invented the shit

I came into the business with this
The Originator, non greater Jaz-O finish this shit
Better learn, Jaz'll relax that, ever heard of me?
Worldwide Originator, say word to me

The population holla certainly, I burn a nigga
Like a third degree, see me shine so bright
Nigga I'm my light, runnin' rulin' with rigor and vigor
Nobody bigger than me and my nigga Jigga

You fly-by-nights stop chirpin' B
Heavyweights type work to me
For the time, in this motherfucker ain't nobody hurtin' me
What? Cut your face in like surgery

Who the fuck got a VS, fuckin' BM's on the road
When you had to be in bed at the PM
Need the info, Jaz on the C.N.N
Forever touchin' my workers beginnin' you're endin'

Nigga your style's no style my style's hostile
C'mon, faggot nigga down to take the gun home
The Originator
Can't fuck with it can ya?

(Nigga what?)
Make you think you can fuck with me
(Nigga who?)
Recognize bitch, Jay to the Z

(Nigga what?)
Make you think you can fuck with me
(Nigga who?)
Recognize bitch, Jay to the Z

(Nigga what?)
Make you think you can fuck with me
(Nigga who?)
Recognize bitch, Jay to the Z

(Nigga what?)
Make you think you can fuck with me
(Nigga who?)
Recognize bitch, Jay to the Z

(Nigga what?)
Make you think you can fuck with me
(Nigga who?)
Recognize bitch

(Nigga what?)
Make you think you can fuck with me
(Nigga who?)
Recognize beyotch

Switcha flow, getcha dough
Can't fuck with this Roc-A-Fella shit doe
Switcha flow, getcha dough
Can't fuck with this Roc-A-Fella shit doe

Till switcha flow, getcha dough
Can't fuck with this Roc-A-Fella shit doe
Switcha flow, getcha dough
Can't fuck with this Roc-A-Fella shit doe

Till switcha flow, getcha dough
Can't fuck with this Roc-A-Fella shit doe
Switcha flow, getcha dough
Can't fuck with this Roc-A-Fella shit doe

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447db9b6c635486901ca3c553e374772

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

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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Saturday, July 31, 2010

Z - Say Hello - Lyrics - American Gangster - Jay

Title: Z - Say Hello
Album: American Gangster
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): T Brocker, Shawn Carter, Aldrin Davis

Lyric:
It's that Roc-A-Fella music, soulful

Say hello to the bad guy, they say I'm a bad guy
I come from the bottom but now I'm mad fly
They say I'm a menace, that's the picture they paint
They say a lot about me, let me tell you what I ain't

They say I'm a bad guy, say hi to the bad guy
I come from the bottom but now I'm mad fly
They say I'm a menace, that's the picture they paint
They say a lot about me, let me tell you what I ain't
They say a lot about me, let me tell you what I ain't

I ain't playin', life's short so I aim
I ain't waiting for life to start portrayin' em
It's twice as hard to get a job as payin' 'em
So I ain't payin' attention to what you're sayin'

Raindrops keep fallin' on my brain
Constant in the drop, all flames
I'm so hot even if the weather change
I don't have no top, I'm insane

'Member dark-skinned Jermaine
Who swayed in the rain, we sorta kinda the same
'Cept, I'm no lame and you gonna know my name
Before I go the world gon' feel my pain

They sayin', I'm a bad guy, why's that?
'Cause when my back's against the wall, nigga I react
Secretly though, I know you admire that
You wish you had the balls to fire back
Say hello, uh uh, hello, uh uh
You wish you had the balls to fire back

Say hello to the bad guy, they say I'm a bad guy
I come from the bottom but now I'm mad fly
They say I'm a menace, that's the picture they paint
They say a lot about me, let me tell you what I ain't

They say I'm a bad guy, say hi to the bad guy
I come from the bottom but now I'm mad fly
They say I'm a menace, that's the picture they paint
They say a lot about me, let me tell you what I ain't
They say a lot about me, let me tell you what I ain't

I ain't no ordinary nigga
Look around, this ain't what ordinary gets ya
Extraordinary figures, I'm an extraordinary nigga

Before my name became Jigga
Before I sang I had that thang on slippers
Can't complain 'bout what they ain't gon' give ya
That ain't gon' get ya shit, might as well give up

Or get up, get out and get somethin' nigga
Get a job my nigga or get to dumpin'
Only God can judge him, only he without sin
Tell me if my means justified my ends

'Til then, I'm just gon' fly in the Benz
Wire my friends through Western Union
Shh, suprisin', my system knockin'
Here comes the bad guy again
Say hello, uh uh, hello, uh uh, hello
Uh, here comes the bad guy again

Say hello to the bad guy, they say I'm a bad guy
I come from the bottom but now I'm mad fly
They say I'm a menace, that's the picture they paint
They say a lot about me, let me tell you what I ain't

They say I'm a bad guy, say hi to the bad guy
I come from the bottom but now I'm mad fly
They say I'm a menace, that's the picture they paint
They say a lot about me, let me tell you what I ain't
Let me tell you what I ain't

We ain't thugs for the sake of just bein' thugs
Nobody do that where we grew at, nigga duh
The poverty line we not above
So I come to mask and gloves 'cause we ain't feelin' the love

We ain't doin' crime for the sake of doin' crimes
We movin' dimes 'cause we ain't doin' fine
One out of three of us is locked up doin' time
You know what this type of shit can do to a nigga moms

My mind on my money, money on my mind
If you owe me ten dollars you ain't givin' me nine
Y'all ain't give me 40 acres and a mule
So I got my glock 40 now I'm cool

And if Al Sharpton is speakin' for me
Somebody give him the word and tell him I don't approve
Tell him I remove the curses
If you tell me our schools gon' be perfect
When Jena Six don't exist
Tell him that's when I'll stop sayin' bitch, bitch

Say hello to the bad guy, they say I'm a bad guy
I come from the bottom but now I'm mad fly
They say I'm a menace, that's the picture they paint
They say a lot about me, let me tell you what I ain't

They say I'm a bad guy, say hi to the bad guy
I come from the bottom but now I'm mad fly
They say I'm a menace, that's the picture they paint
They say a lot about me, let me tell you what I ain't

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Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Mind On Our Money - Lyrics - BTNHResurrection - Bone Thugs N Harmony

Title: Mind On Our Money
Album: BTNHResurrection
Artist: Bone Thugs N Harmony
Composer(s): Steven Howse, Charles Scruggs, Tim Middleton, Stanley Howse, Anthony Henderson, Byron Mc Cane

Lyric:
People ask me how do you maintain
You got to keep your mind on money
(T H U G)
Don't let the snakes ever short you for ya change
Nigga, let 'em know how much you want it

People ask me how do you maintain
You got to keep your mind on money
(T H U G)
Don't let the snakes ever short you for ya change
Nigga, let 'em know how much you want it

Nigga 1993, hooked up with Eazy E
1994, rushin' through the door with the bone flow
Nigga was creepin' on a come up, doin' it for the love of money
1995 we really let 'em know, Cleveland is the city where we come from

Brought styles muthafuckas never heard before
But we never got our props
Till we dropped that said song, see you at the crossroad
But the man know, Eazy runnin' with the lost souls, rest in peace

That was 1996, we back in the mix
I guess they thought that we'd gon' quit but we got love for this shit
But everything started changin', business rearrangin'
Then the time when bone and ruthless wasn't vibin'

Tried to keep my mind together through that industry shit
Somehow I'm feelin' like what I deserve I didn't get
But I'ma stick it out, believe I'ma keep my head up
And show my loyalty for Eazy E, even though I'm fed up

1997 hey, everybody grab ya weapon, it's the art of war
It don't stop, it won't stop until we drop, body rott
Not to mention when we venture through the family scriptures
1999 nigga, still strugglin'

Tryna get some money with this mastermind I'm jugglin'
Sharpen up ya thug mentality
And by the year 2000 I'll be thuggin' but so I'm [unverified]
I gotta get some money, blast if I get hungry
So if you read that i done flipped, then you know the story, about me

People ask me how do you maintain
You got to keep your mind on money
(T H U G)
Don't let the snakes ever short you for ya change
Nigga, let 'em know how much you want it

Take a good look into my eyes and all over my face your bloody death
With a bloody bloody, mess, I'm servin' you none the less
[Unverified] that crazy muthafucka
From the world's most dangerous group

Mo thugs nation, [unverified] on your life
That's absolutely what I'm gon' do
Blast at them niggas who thought they knew me
Now I'm that muthafucka that be [unverified], the nigga that bust all y'all

My mission in life to be the coldest nigga that ever spit shit on the mic
I'm comin' in smooth, rockin' this Hip-Hop music just the way you like
Tellin' all biters to please stop tryin'
Let it go fry fool, when I make my move, all y'all gonna die

Split up and fry, open his eyes [unverified] pop
Shot one through his head
Oh my, oh my, now look what you made me do, this nigga dead
It ain't my fault, you niggas too soft, ain't got no skill

Now look through the [unverified] stop steel
Y'all some fake-thug livin' tryna get notice by hangin' with stars
No need to say no names, niggas know who the fuck you are
We all true sound, nigga united gatherin' souls, how we roll

And that's love for the paper, foldin', I saw these hoes
But I had my [unverified] nah, nigga that's my nuts [unverified]
Don't touch that
And then he won't hesitate to buck for the love

You can't dust on these bustas, so they die
They only got love for those who love me
In the meanwhile I main to keepin' my mind on my money
And no, this shit that we spit ain't funny
Especially when you hungry, nigga
With no hustle, nigga, to get them funds

People ask me how do you maintain
You got to keep your mind on money
(T H U G)
Don't let the snakes ever short you for ya change
Nigga, let 'em know how much you want it

In '91 I'm runnin' from the fuckin' cops, don't ya know it
That bitch was tryna' find a hidin' spot, he show it
Know niggas that'd had no pussy
Said that would never read or get to L.A.

And niggas went cannibal on 'em, either
Smokin' that reefer, niggas know how I'm livin'
'Cause I was havin' children when y'all was lookin' for women
But mine aside, so why you tellin' your same [unverified]

When niggas ain't have shit, tell me who's the one that ride
We gon' ride ride though, you can call me Mr. Murda-Mo
Get [unverified], burn the whole store down all by myself
[unverified] for fuckin' with the bone flow

Heaven and Earth, God and my loved one and ya gotta roll
And what you want my people to hear, that I'm a fuckin' sell-out?
But who's the one on solo shit and who want me the hell out?
I'll bail out with a [unverified], that pussy makes me change

Or expansion on the mansion or acres in the shooting range
Shootin' thangs, it don't make you a villain
(Shootin' thangs)
The villain is chillin' with his children
Bitch, I keeps it real

People ask me how do you maintain
You got to keep your mind on money
(T H U G)
Don't let the snakes ever short you for ya change
Nigga, let 'em know how much you want it

I keep my mind on my money, my money on my mind
A straight up soldier in the field out here pushin' my line
Nigga designed a gold crime as I'm racin' through this obstacle
007, Layzie Bone, knew it was possible

Got shot, got out the hospital, started on my mission
Listen, nigga pay attention
Oh, and did I mention, had a tape before I crept on a come up,
Faces of death

Blessin' 40 O-Z's, lay and leatherface and double Z's [unverified]
Niggas often wonder why my mind on my money
Nigga these bitches all up on me and half the industry phony
It's like this nigga, i don't even fuck around

If a nigga ain't got no money for lay, I'll come around
Ain't it funny how niggas turn funny-style
When they think they fall in trinkets, ain't even ran a mile
See my niggas doin' a damn thing, flesh

Trues humbly united gatherin' souls, just to let you know
Heaven's movie, yours truly, Mr. Gambini
it's the mentality and next to the baddest, Little Stevie
And when you ask me how i maintain

I watch my niggas rule, act a fool and ace the game
Mo thug one, witness the family scriptures
Mo thug two, family reunion comin' to get ya
Mo thug three, presentation of the mothership
Niggas on some other shit, by smoke and maintain

People ask me how do you maintain
You got to keep your mind on money
(T H U G)
Don't let the snakes ever short you for ya change
Nigga, let 'em know how much you want it

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Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Z - Ain'T No Nigga - Lyrics - MTV Unplugged - Jay

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

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

Lyric:
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 your 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 thats why
You gotta watch your friends you got to watch me
They conniving shit
The first chance to crack the bank
They try me, all they get is 50 cent franks
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
Mmet your death in less than 8 seconds
Still poundin in my after life
Laugin my shit is tight
You who askin right

Aint no nigga like the one I got
No one can fuck you betta
Sleeps around but he gives me alot
Keeps you in diamonds and leathers
Friends 'ill tell me I should leave you alone
Hah hah, hah hah, hah hah, hah ha
Tell the freaks to find a man of there own
(Man a they own, man a they own)

Fresh to def in Moschino, coach bag
Lookin half black and filipino fakin no jacks
Got you a beeper to feel important
Surrouding your feet in Joanie Dega's and Charles Jordan
I keep ya dove but love
You know these ho's be makin me weak
Yall knows how it goes 'b and so I creep
Ive been sinnin since you been playin wit Barbie and Ken in
You can't change a players game in the 9th inning
The chrome rim spinning keeps em grinnin
So I run way the fuck up in em
And wrinkle the face like linnin
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 what you dont see is whatcha get
Weapons concealed what the fuck yall feel
When you nigga play sick we can all get ill
-Whats the deal-

Aint no nigga like the one I got
No one can fuck you betta
Sleeps around but he gives me alot
Keeps you in diamonds and leathers
Friends 'ill tell me I should leave you alone
Hah hah, hah hah, hah hah, hah ha
Tell the freaks to find a man of there own
(Man a they own, man a they own)

Yo, aint 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 tubs
Mackin this bitch, wifee nigga
So when you flip that coke
Remember them days you was dead broke
But now your style and I raised you
Basically made you into a don
Flippin weight heroin and shit
You know my pussy is all that
Thats why I get bagets 5 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 a shit
Specially when Im flippin Baileys
Dont give a fuck about how you move with them other mamis
I push da Z, eating 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 letters and bullshit berattas
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
'Cause 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 with half of them 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 the dough
Made you into a star, pushin hundred thousand dollar cars

Aint no nigga like the one I got
No one can fuck you betta
Sleeps around but he gives me alot
Keeps you in diamonds and leathers
Friends 'ill tell me I should leave you alone
Hah hah, hah hah, hah hah, hah ha
Tell the freaks to find a man of there own
(Man a they own, man a they own)

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