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Post one of your favorite Hip Hop Lyrics!!!
Artist Lyrics: Ultramagnetic Mc'S
Song Lyrics: Poppa Large Album Lyrics: Funk Your Head Up I get in shape and do my physical fitness Your head's numb, so your brains a miss this Pick 'em up, eat 'em up, pick 'em up, beat 'em up Pick 'em up pimplehead, pick 'em up picky I roll wit globs and I come real sticky Ripping the mic, I plug it up in your ears Crazed and brewer. I'm coming out like beers Like Rheingold, Miller, Coors, and Buds I'm a eat 'em wit popcorn and treat 'em like suds you duds Coming out the wick wack, wicky, wickable wack Black jack, that's a fact, writing exact behind your back The funk rhyme to master, blaster Kicking up in a brainstorm, rainstorm Rap storm, rap form Rap time, rap rhyme Rap class, I'm here to fail and to pass To continue, from the more, hype tip I roll and rock, rock and roll Jazz and pop, rhythm and Blues Dance and fusion, pain confusion Look at the lights, what a night on the town I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the East coast(4x) Now I'm back to funk, freak the funk Hype the funk, swipe the funk and all that junk I get busy on 'em, communicate wit the world Man, woman, a baby boy and a girl Poppa large looking out the pawn shop Taking stroud while your face and arms drop Stop, look, learn to read, learn to write Learn to talk, learn to walk And watch your step though, I'm hype and ripe though Kleptomaniac, my rhyme is psycho A Ricky Ricardo, a Guy Lombardo Sporting a ragtop, an El Dorado Step into Hollywood, I'm screening the boulevards The rhymes is gain type, I'm ready to pull it's card Jack or Ace, King or Queen, call me the deuce I'm pouring LA juice Hitting the top, feeling the rim Getting a trim, I never rhyme like them On and on, on and on, on and on Until the break of dawn I go overtime, rock the mic in nighttime Daytime, switching off to Primetime Specifically, strolling back in the west time Rock the funk wit the mic in the east rhyme Hype and dope, hype the frame, the mic is smoking Yo, I ain't joking Rhyme to kill, rhyme to murder, rhyme to stomp Rhyme to ill, rhyme to romp Rhyme to smack, rhyme to shock, rhyme to roll Rhyme to destroy anything toy boy On the microphone I'm poppa large, big shot on the east coast(4X) You're dripping sweaty, coming hard on your neck As I flow and grow from head to toe Seeking a style like John Mcenroe Dissing 'em all, serving them wit the mic stand Like Prince and Michael coming out wit a big band The crowd is loud, you can pay as teh manager Run wit the money, I pull the trigger and damage ya Boom, taking life more serious I may sound lyrical and very mysterious Rhymes are grip tight, no grams to kill more A son of Sam, how could I begin more Grabbing the mic, you see the dark and shadows You're in living hell, the funk, pound to pound The funk ignited, hands are writing, brains dividing I'm coming out in sighting Like I'm Blackula, a better man that Dracula Spectacular and not irregular In fact you are speaking impopular Rhymes are moved and you can't be stop wit the Beat as it goes to the rhyme that flows Like a coke in a straw burning up in your nose That's a bad habit, stepping out on stage one Drop the mic, come and turn to page one Look at the master, my range is higher My lyrical burns, your brain's on fire Poppa Large, big shot on the east coast(8X) |
iS IT REAL SON?
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Not guilty the filthy devils tried ta kill me
When the news get to the hood then niggas will be hotter than cayenne pepper, cuss, bust Kickin up dust is a must I can't trust a cracker in a blue uniform Stick a nigga like a unicorn Vaugn, wicked, Lawrence Powell, foul Cut his fuckin throat and I smile Go to Simi Valley and surely somebody knows the address of the jury Pay a little visit, "Who is it?" (Who is Ice Cube?) "Can I talk to the grand wizard?" then boom Make him eat the barrel, modern day feral Now he's zipped up like leather tuscadero Pretty soon we'll catch Sergeant Coon Shoot him in the face, run up in him witta broom Stick prick, devils ain't shit Introduce his ass to the AK40 dick Two dazed niggas layin in the cut To get some respect we had to tear this muthafucka up |
Magnetics rule.
Intro One: (only on Dr. Octagon hidden track original version) I would have been completely dead had it not been for the Shark Man. Shark Man? *chuckling* Judging from his appearance, that's the most appropriate name I could come up with for him. I hate this kid. This uhh... THING you're talking about. It had the body of a shark, and the arms and face of a man? That's the chap. Holy jumping jackfish! Intro Two: Mr. Gerbik *moaning, growling* Yes, you have met the dangerous 208 year-old Uncle of Dr. Octagon. I myself Mr. Gerbik. Half-shark, half-man, skin like alligator. Carrying a dead walrus. Check it. Verse One: Mr. Gerbik With my white eyes, gray hair, face is sky-blue yellow Sideburns react, my skin is colored lilac My skin turn orange and green in the limousine People think I'm mixed with shark, drinking gasoline Underwater I breathe and let loose on my sleeve Walking down Hollywood Boulevard with a credit card Three alligators behind me, feel my skin is hard Transvestites, and people watch space parasites I left his head in the store, legs in the street Body in Wilcox, with blood dripping off my feet L.A.P.D. through gray clouds couldn't see me I first turned rainbow, closed my eyes, watch my brain glow People got scared and ranned away they think I'm weird I was born this way, halfsharkalligator Is he weird?? Chorus: Mr. Gerbik *singing* half-shark-alligator-half-man Half man, half shark! half-shark-alligator-half-man Half man, half shark! Verse Two: Mr. Gerbik My vomit fluctuates, covers your skull like protoplasm Lightning bugs turn pink, on my tongue catches spasms Green elephants, I battle streets with a zebra My mechanism is more than Dionne's psychic voodoo African beads, snakeskins, cold script through you my medical passes You can't see, with greedy glasses Carbon dioxide, pour right through em with gases My description dinosaur I was made half-shark-half-man, my skin is like razor blades Seven-oh-seven, Mr. Gerbik Verbally no one change my thoughts, animals fly from Philly My appetites more big it's time for wildabeasts Adjust my skulls, seven eyes switch hydraulic scribbles and shrimps, mack gorillas like a pimp Half-shark-alligator-man Chorus 2X Verse Three: Mr. Gerbik In my real world, orangutangs dance for Thanksgiving With skeleton bones and skunk tails, is my mission Holding backward raps to all my power packs Babboons clap, and girl horses wanna hit the sack We're too bold for ocean water, monkeys sniffin ice Contact Jupiter pools Martians bring my rice I'm out flyin with purple capes in the twilight Oooh ooh ooh, tonight's the night My oxygen region's, New York to California Half shark alligator half man! Outro: PBS Nature It takes a supreme feat of strength to swim through the water plows while dragging two hundred and fifty pounds on your back... the crocodile's teeth are designed to seize and hold, not to cut through skin. During all the hours the somber lay in the water, but are unable to penetrate the deer's tough hide. The crocodiles make a few token objections; but in the end, give up the struggle. |
RAKIM
I Ain't No Joke I aint no joke, I use to let the mic smoke Now I slam it when Im done and make sure its broke When Im gone I wrote this song cuz I wont let Nobody press up and mess up the scene I set I like to stand in a crowd and watch the people wonder damn Bu think about it then youll understand Im just an addict addicted to music Maybe its a habit, I gotta use it Even if its jazz or the quiet storm I hook a beat up, convert it in a hip-hop form Write a rhyme in graffitti in every show you see me in Deep concentration cuz Im no comedian Jokers are wild if you wanna be tame I treat you like a child then youre gonna be named Another enemy, not even a friend of me Cuz youll get fried in the end if you pretend to be Competing cuz I just put your mind on pause And I can beat you when you compare my rhyme wit yours I wake you up and as I stare in your face you seem stunned Remember me, the one you got your idea from? But soon you start to suffer but you only get rougher When you start to stutter thats when you had enuff of Biting it, I make you choke, you cant provoke You cant cope, you should have broke cuz I aint no joke I got a question, its serious as cancer Who can keep the average dancer Hyper as a heart attack nobody smiling Cuz youre expressing the rhyme that Im styling This is what we all sit down to write You cant make it so you take it home, break it and bite Use pieces and bits of all the hip-hop hits Get the style down pat then its time to switch Put my tape on pause and add some more to yours Then you figure you're ready for the neighborhood chores The e-m-c-e-e dont even try to be When you come up to speak, dont even lie to me You like to exaggerate, dream and imaginate Then change the rhyme around, that can aggravate me So when you see me come up, freeze Or youll be one of those 7 mcs They think that Im a new jack but only if they knew that They who think wrong are they who cant do that Style that Im doing, they might ruin Patterns of paragraphs based on you and Your offbeat dj, if anything he play Sound familiar, Ill wait til E say Play em, so ima have to dis and broke You could get a smack for this, I aint no joke I hold the microphone like a grudge E'll hold the record so the needle dont budge I hold a conversation cuz when I invent I nominated my dj the president When Im senile, people freestyle, going steadily So pucker up and whistle my melody But whatever you do, dont miss one Theyll be another rough rhyme after this one Before you know it, you're following and fiending Waiting for the punchline to get the meaning Like before the middle of my story Im telling Nobody beats the R so stop yelling Save it, put it in your pocket for later Cuz Im moving the crowd and be a record fader No interruptions and the mic is broke When Im gone, then you can joke Cuz everything is real on a serious tip Keep playing and I varies quick And take you for a walk through hell Feed your dome then watch your eyeballs swell Guide you out of triple stage darkness When it get dark again then ima spark this Microphone cuz the heat is on, you see smoke And Im finish when the beat is gone, Im no joke |
Geto Boys - MIND OF A LUNATIC
(this is the only hip hop song that scares me!) (He's a paranoiac who's a menace to our society) [ VERSE 1: Bushwick Bill ] Paranoid, sittin in a deep sweat Thinkin I gotta fuck somebody before the week ends The sight of blood exites me, shoot you in the head Sit down, and watch you bleed to death I hear the sound of your last breath Shouldn't have been around, I went all the way left You was in the right place with me at the wrong time I'm a psychopath, in a minute lose my fuckin mind Calm down, back to reality Don't fear death, cause I know that it's promised to me Flashes, I get flashes of Jason Gimme a knife, a million lives I'm wastin The shadow of death follows me, I don't give a fuck Pussy play Superman, your ass'll get boxed up Put him in a straight jacket, the man's sick This is what goes on in the mind of a lunatic (He's a paranoiac who's a menace to our society) (He's a) (He's a) (He's a paranoiac who's a menace to our society) [ VERSE 2: Bushwick Bill ] Lookin through her window, now my body is warm She's naked, and I'm a peepin tom Her body's beautiful, so I'm thinkin rape Shouldn't have had her curtains open, so that's her fate Leavin out her house, grabbed the bitch by her mouth Drug her back in, slammed her down on the couch Whipped out my knife, said, "If you scream, I'm cuttin" Opened her legs and commenced the fuckin She begged me not to kill her, I gave her a rose Then slit her throat, and watched her shake till her eyes closed Had sex with the corpse before I left her And drew my name on the wall like helter skelter Run for shelter never crossed my mind I had a guage, a grenade, and even a nine Dial 911 for the bitch But the cops ain't shit when they're fuckin with a lunatic (Another innocent victim of this homicidal maniac) (Maniac) (Maniac) (Another innocent victim of this homicidal maniac) [ VERSE 3: Scarface ] I sit alone in my four-cornered room starin at candles Dreamin of the people I've dismantled I close my eyes and in the circle Appears the images of sons of bitches that I murdered Flashbacks of bodies bein fucked up Once I attack, I'm like a pit on a rage that's goin for guts Boys used to die when I'm full fo that fry I be ebbin when I'm high So I say 'fuck' and just let bullets fly Like I said before, Scarface is my identity A homicidal maniac with sucidal tendencies I'm on the violent tip, so yo, get a grip And bitch, come equipped, ain't takin no shit Cause here comes a lunatic [ VERSE 4: Scarface ] My girl's gettin skinny, she's strung out on coke So I went to her mother's house and cut out her throat Her grandma was standin there, she was screamin out, "Brad!" As she reached for the telly, I put the blade on granny's ass Went to the back and grabbed a shovel Now granny's on her way to meet the devil Pulled out my .38 and aimed at the bitch A cop says (Freeze, muthafucka!) Bitch, suck my dick I said, "Die, muthafuckas!" as I blasted Something clicked in my head, visions of bodies in plastic The scent of buckshots in human flesh Pigs dyin from bullet wounds to the chest No sheriff's gonna take me on a road Dark as fuck, and let his pistols explode Fuck that, cause I ain'ts to die So I reloaded my Uzi and fired up another fry It got me crazy as fuck A ragin psychotic full of that Angel's Dust The cops had the place surrounded Hunted for a way to get out - I found it Innocent bystanders watch me set an example I popped one, "Let me go, goddammit Scot free Or all of these muthafuckas comin with me" All of a sudden the shit got silent I remember wakin up, in an asylum Bein treated like a troubled kid My shirt was all bloody, and both of my wrists was slit Think this is harsh? This ain't as harsh as it gets No tellin what's bein thought up in the mind of a lunatic (Maniac) (Maniac) (Ma-) (Mani-) (Maniac) (I can't quit) [ VERSE 5: Willie D ] November 1st 1966 A damn fool was born with the mind of a lunatic I shoulda been killed But sister fucked around and let me live Now I developped a criminal behaviour Fuck with me, and I'll slay ya Ass, beyond recognition, shit Your dental records couldn't prove your identity, bitch I beg your pardon, on talkin to borden You'll never find a muthafucka, so save your milk cartons Cross the line, your ass is mine I don't give a fuck if you're 9 or 99 Blind, crippled, and crazy, don't faze me Your funky ass will be pushin up daisies You wanna know what makes me click? My psychiatrist said I got the mind of a lunatic (Let's get out of here, that guy is crazy) (Ma-) (Ma-) (Ma-) (Maniac) [ VERSE 6: Willie D ] I ain't got it all, so don't fuck with me Unless your ass wanna be made history I'll blow your muthafuckin house up And if your wife and kids are inside, they're fucked I don't give a damn who I slay Don't let me get a hold of some E&J Cause when the shit hit the fan I'll stab your ass quicker than a Mexican The nightmares I leave you with on the scene Will make Freddy bitch ass look like a wet dream This is fact, not fictional, son of a bitch I got the mind of a lunatic |
My Name Is Slim Shady.
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Ghostface Killah - Daytona 500
Verse One: Raekwon the Chef Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge Knowledgists, street astrologists Light up the mic God, knowledge this Fly joints that carried your points Corolla Motorola holder Play it God, he pack over the shoulder Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives Rapel on fakes like reflectors He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing Claim they doin the same shit we doin, fuck your unit It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials Especially that, aluminum bat in the act Relax, lay back, sold a grenade today, it pays black The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex Index finger be sore, bustin these fly scripts The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans Layin with my bitches and my mans in Lex Lands We losin em, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem Abusin em, rockin his jewels like we usin em Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar Roll with the older God, build with the Son and the Star Chorus: All these MC's start realizing That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us Verse Two: Ghostface Killer Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat Doin forever shit, like pissin out the window on turnpikes Robbin niggaz for leathers, high swipin on dirt bikes Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners In the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings Body chemical CREAM, we burn kerosene The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph Zoomin like binoculars, the rap blacksmith Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy True identity hidden inside secret tabloids Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes Yo jostling these cats while Little J be deli-ing Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians Chorus Verse Three: Cappadonna Give me the the fifty thou, small bills My gold plate, my slang kills My Benz spills, whattup Lils Murder one Dunn Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon Cristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe The mad-hatter big dick style, beware goons smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs Let the Gods build, pull up the grill Check out the mad skills Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it, jiggy style of rap and watchin knuckle slang sweep it out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten High top notch, borderline rhymes is handcocked Ninety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot Get yourself shot |
Wild Thing
Tone Loc Album: Loc'd After Dark Let's do it Workin' all week 9 to 5 for my money So when the weekend comes I go get live with the honey Rollin' down the street I saw this girl and she was pumpin' I winked my eye she got into the ride went to a club was jumpin' Introduce myself as Loc she said "You're a liar" I said "I got it goin' on baby doll and I'm on fire" Took her to the hotel she said "You're the king" I said "Be my queen if you know what I mean and let us do the wild thing Wild thing (x2) Shoppin' at the mall looking for some gear to buy I saw this girl she cool rocked my world and I had to adjust my fly She looked at me and smiled and said "You have plans for the night" I said "Hopefully if things go well I'll be with you tonight" So we journeyed to her house one thing led to an other I keyed the door we cold hit the floor looked up and it was her mother I didn't know what to say I was hanging by a string She said "Hey you two I was once like you and I liked to do the wild thing" Wild thing She loved to do the wild thing Wild thing Please baby baby please Posse in effect hangin' out is always hype And when me and the crew leave the shindig I want a girl who's just my type Saw this luscious little frame I ain't lyin' fellas she was fine The sweet young miss go gave me a kiss and I knew that she was mine Took her to the limousine still parked outside I tipped the chauffeur when it was over and I gave her my own ride Couldn't get her off my jack she was like static cling But that's what happens when body start slappin' from doin' the wild thing Wild thing She wanna do the wild thing Please baby baby please Wild thing Doin' a little show at the local discotheque This fine youg chick was on my jack so I say what the heck She want to come on stage and do her little dance So I said chill for now but maybe later you'll get your chance So when the show was finished I took her around the way And what do you know she was good to go without a word to say We was all alone and she said "Tone let me tell you one thing I need $50 to make you holler I get paid to do the wild thing" Say what Yo love you must be kidding You're walkin' babe Just break out of here Hasta la vista baby Wild thing |
"Baby Got Back"
[Intro] Oh, my, god. Becky, look at her butt. It is so big. *scoff* She looks like, one of those rap guys' girlfriends. But, y'know, who understands those rap guys? *scoff* They only talk to her, because, she looks like a total prostitute, 'kay? I mean, her butt, is just so big. *scoff* I can't believe it's just so round, it's like, out there, I mean - gross. Look! She's just so ... black! [Sir Mix-a-Lot] I like big butts and I can not lie You other brothers can't deny That when a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist And a round thing in your face You get sprung, wanna pull out your tough 'Cause you notice that butt was stuffed Deep in the jeans she's wearing I'm hooked and I can't stop staring Oh baby, I wanna get wit'cha And take your picture My homeboys tried to warn me But with that butt you got makes me feel so horny Ooh, Rump-o'-smooth-skin You say you wanna get in my Benz? Well, use me, use me 'Cause you ain't that average groupy I've seen them dancin' The hell with romancin' She's sweat, wet, Got it goin' like a turbo 'Vette I'm tired of magazines Sayin' flat butts are the thing Take the average black man and ask him that She gotta pack much back So, fellas! (Yeah!) Fellas! (Yeah!) Has your girlfriend got the butt? (Hell yeah!) Tell 'em to shake it! (Shake it!) Shake it! (Shake it!) Shake that healthy butt! Baby got back! (LA face with Oakland booty) Baby got back! [Sir Mix-a-Lot] I like 'em round, and big And when I'm throwin' a gig I just can't help myself, I'm actin' like an animal Now here's my scandal I wanna get you home And ugh, double-up, ugh, ugh I ain't talkin' bout Playboy 'Cause silicone parts are made for toys I want 'em real thick and juicy So find that juicy double Mix-a-Lot's in trouble Beggin' for a piece of that bubble So I'm lookin' at rock videos Knock-kneeded bimbos walkin' like hoes You can have them bimbos I'll keep my women like Flo Jo A word to the thick soul sistas, I wanna get with ya I won't cuss or hit ya But I gotta be straight when I say I wanna *fuck* Til the break of dawn Baby got it goin' on A lot of simps won't like this song 'Cause them punks like to hit it and quit it And I'd rather stay and play 'Cause I'm long, and I'm strong And I'm down to get the friction on So, ladies! {Yeah!} Ladies! {Yeah} If you wanna role in my Mercedes {Yeah!} Then turn around! Stick it out! Even white boys got to shout Baby got back! Baby got back! Yeah, baby ... when it comes to females, Cosmo ain't got nothin' to do with my selection. 36-24-36? Ha ha, only if she's 5'3". [Sir Mix-a-Lot] So your girlfriend rolls a Honda, playin' workout tapes by Fonda But Fonda ain't got a motor in the back of her Honda My anaconda don't want none Unless you've got buns, hun You can do side bends or sit-ups, But please don't lose that butt Some brothers wanna play that "hard" role And tell you that the butt ain't gold So they toss it and leave it And I pull up quick to retrieve it So Cosmo says you're fat Well I ain't down with that! 'Cause your waist is small and your curves are kickin' And I'm thinkin' bout stickin' To the beanpole dames in the magazines: You ain't it, Miss Thing! Give me a sista, I can't resist her Red beans and rice didn't miss her Some knucklehead tried to dis 'Cause his girls are on my list He had game but he chose to hit 'em And I pull up quick to get wit 'em So ladies, if the butt is round, And you want a triple X throw down, Dial 1-900-MIXALOT And kick them nasty thoughts Baby got back! (Little in the middle but she got much back) [4x] |
Back
Caught you lookin' for the same thing It's a new thing check out this I bring Uh Oh the roll below the level 'Cause I'm livin' low next to the bass C'mon Turn up the radio They claim that I'm a criminal By now I wonder how Some people never know The enemy could be their friend guardian I'm not a hooligan I rock the party and Clear all the madness, I'm not a racist Preach to teach to all 'Cause some they never had this Number one, not born to run About the gun... I wasn't licensed to have one The minute they see me, fear me I'm the epitome - a public enemy Used, abused without clues I refused to blow a fuse They even had it on the news Don't believe the hype... Yes Was the start of my last jam So here it is again, another def jam But since I gave you all a little something That we knew you lacked They still consider me a new jack All the critics you can hang'em I'll hold the rope But they hope to the pope And pray it ain't dope The follower of Farrakhan Don't tell me that you understand Until you hear the man The book of the new school rap game Writers treat me like Coltrane, insane Yes to them, but to me I'm a different kind We're brothers of the same mind, unblind Caught in the middle and Not surrenderin' I don't rhyme for the sake of of riddlin' Some claim that I'm a smuggler Some say I never heard of 'ya A rap burgler, false media We don't need it do we? It's fake that's what it be to 'ya, dig me? Don't believe the hype... Don't believe the hype - its a sequel As an equal, can I get this through to you My 98's boomin' with a trunk of funk All the jealous punks can't stop the dunk Comin' from the school of hard knocks Some perpetrate, they drink Clorox Attack the black, cause I know they lack exact The cold facts, and still they try to Xerox Leader of the new school, uncool Never played the fool, just made the rules Remember there's a need to get alarmed Again I said I was a timebomb In the daytime the radio's scared of me 'Cause I'm mad, plus I'm the enemy They can't c'mon and play with me in primetime 'Cause I know the time, plus I'm gettin' mine I get on the mix late in the night They know I'm livin' right, so here go the mike, sike Before I let it go, don't rush my show You try to reach and grab and get elbowed Word to herb, yo if you can't swing this Just a little bit of the taste of the bass for you As you get up and dance at the LQ When some deny it, defy if I swing bolos Then they clear the lane I go solo The meaning of all of that Some media is the whack You believe it's true, it blows me through the roof Suckers, liars get me a shovel Some writers I know are damn devils For them I say don't believe the hype Yo Chuck, they must be on a pipe, right? Their pens and pads I'll snatch 'Cause I've had it I'm not an addict fiendin' for static I'll see their tape recoreder and grab it No, you can't have it back silly rabbit I'm going' to my media assassin Harry Allen, I gotta ask him Yo Harry, you're a writer, are we that type? Don't believe the hype I got flavor and all those things you know Yeah boy, part two bum rush and show Yo Griff, get the green black red and Gold down countdown to Armageddon -88 you wait the S1Ws will Rock the hard jams - treat it like a seminar Teach the bourgeoise, and rock the boulevard Some sau I'm negative But they're not positive But what I got to give... The media says this |
V. Vaughn, the traveling Vaudeville Villain
Who don't give a flying fuck who ain't not feeling him Watch what ya' dealing him: ace, king, death card Strong-arm the wrong man, pardon the left, god Get money and earn it, then everything you touch turn shit Got much to learn kid, light it up burn shit Light it up like the Dutch when the hash melt Only time they see him is when they need him with the cash belt Ay carumba, now that's my number One dry summer, as far as I remember Burnt out, but gaining every edgy penny Then he hit him straight to the head like Reggie Denny Call him back when you need some more 'gnac, horse-yak Doing 80 down the Van Wyck on horseback Ya' man sick but he wreck tracks, puto Get back too bro', exactamundo Viktor the director flip a script like Rob Reiner The way a lotta dudes rhyme their name should be "knob shiner" For a buck, they'd likely dance the Jig or do the Hucklebuck To Vik it's no big deal, they're just a buncha knuckle-fucks You wonder how well would they hold up in a holding cell It sorta had the strange makings of a tale told in hell Like "Oh well," hold tall riches If the Feds is really after him they'll just tell all the snitches On borrowed-time rhymes, gassed by the silver screen They cat like their monkey ass can heal back like Wolverine Mellow out what y'all bellow out ya' yellow mouth What happened to the kinda spit that used to help a fellow out? No doubt, leave a rapper in a body cast And wonder what he was doing while we was in a karate class Snotty ass, it's really like he was a white-belt Right before he "night-night" ask him how the light felt I wouldn't take their tape if they gave it free Maybe it's me, maybe it's V! Throw down the key, y'all know how shit be In the naked city, rappers is so giddy That's no ditty, Vaughn so witty The way he take no prisoners and show no pity It's how son became a big man from a Black boy To name names, a really big fan of Dan Akroyd He feel they need to give him his own dance This his only chance to shoot the gift like a lone glance Or like a beef scene that leave the oo-ey smoking Or between Hoktuo Shinken and Nanto Koukakuken |
good call with the vik vaughn
2 Live Crew - "Pop That Pussy" Verse 1: [fresh kid ice] There's only one place where we can go To see freaky hoes doin' shows Doin' tricks to make us holler On a giving night, all for a dollar Silicone breasts, oil on their chest Nothin' like others, but above the rest They'll do anything to turn us on Them hoes got it goin' on!! [brother marquis] I like big booty and big ol' titties Bitch, you know you've been fucked by many So come and be my private dancer I got some money if that's the answer I really wanna be with you; I get hard after seeing you How hard? hard like a rock, When you make that pussy pop! Chorus (2x): [luke] Pop that pussy! heyyy! Pop that pussy, baby! Pop that pussy! Pop, pop that pussy, baby! Verse 2: [fresh kid ice] Freaky bitches with plenty of ass Rollin' to the music and shakin' real fast Bend over backwards, make me shout And work that pussy, in and out Movin' their body with plenty of action Bringin' to the men more satisfaction Doin' what they feel to turn us out Just work that pussy all the way out! [brother marquis] Shake it! don't break it! It took your momma nine months to make it Bend over and spread 'em, girl Show-w-w me those pussy pearls Rub that ass and play with that clit You know i like that freaky shit Girl, you know you look so cute Throwin' that pussy the way you do! Chorus Verse 3: [fresh kid ice] Poppin' that pussy's a dance for the ladies Straight from the south, into the 90's Freaky bitches are the ones i like In g-strings in the middle of the night Smoke-filled stages, bitches in cages Guards at the door, armed with gauges As they dance and i get hot, Keep throwin' that pussy! don't stop! [brother marquis] I like the way you lick the champagne glass It makes me wanna stick my dick in your ass So come on, baby, and pop it quick I fall in love when you suck my dick Bitch, you don't know? you ain't heard? Fuckin' with me, you're gonna get served See, none of my bitches, they never complain So come on, baby, and pop that thang! Chorus [luke] Janet j, pop, that pus-sy! Bu-bles, pop, that pus-sy! Sandra p, pop, that pus-sy! Ma-donna, pop that stinky smelly pussy, baby! |
Do you feel the Kool Keith love?
Taking a patient out of the bathroom into water That's right, get in the water and touch the electic wires Hold this... here's some bread! ";Now you tell me how you can live in an apartment, with the pieces of a person, rotting away with decay and not know?"; ";I was totally sick, to tell the truth"; ";Washing bones, why were you washing bones?"; ";Cause they were smelly"; Think about it, if you was there standing looking at me What would you do, if I hit your face with dog doodoo? Smear purple flies on your forehead Spit in your salad, vomit on your brother's breakfast Take your ass outside, burn your mother's house Bring pet mice, and scare your sister with my gray mouse Then drop him under the bed, and leave him there dead Take out your parakeet, with scissors, clip his head Then get the charcoal, whassup, burn your dog's legs Walk by the barbershop, and hit the glass with eggs Then go in the club and dance, mix the alcohol Great with roach spray, here's a drink, have a ball Dance to the music, watch it party pooper Yeah, you know... I'm destructive (4X) Bash in your head with ten full cans of Campbell's soup I'm on the roof, I'm not another pigeon out the chicken coop Stole your checks, and flush money down the toilet bowl Look at the frog, he's gone too down the commode War paint on the carpet, your fur was my target Give the baby some gum, a pack of BubbleYum Stick it in the rugs, smearing green lightening bugs all around the walls, down the halls Checking out doodoo on flame pits, niggaz with they armpits down, smellin funky, check out the junkie, spit I'm destructive!! (4X) Like a green red blue reindeer, dead lying down with a fawn Copulating, having sex Mating with a babboon with buffalo wings Hahahahaha Like Hitler, the German Shephard, coming down from the Bronx fighting moose you sound as soft as a goose We all hang with tickets for Van Halen Orifice, Autopsy, Def Leppard and Spaz C'mon, drop the jazz Grateful Dead, rock with it I'm destructive!!! (3X) |
The Infesticons - "Hero Theme"
Ooh, there's big fandango in the wrangle Ooh, there's loads on loads of g-strings and marble bags On this beach, leave you speechless Like no-star Sneetches, like Brain cells sucked by leeches Short Beach is the best bash If I was a woman, I'd demand a tongue-lash Be tall and blond with ass, like that girl in Splash Ain't life fantastic? Switch-gender spastic Impale the she-male, down some more champale Bombay chicken cooked like hell Get arrested for sluttery and make-hell Posted testicles on virtual e-mail I'm the nouveau-beat superstar Super-stealin' in Manhattan Your girl is cattin': "I strictly listen to Luscious Jackson" Aversion to heights, got you froze up like deer in headlights And purple nights, like Heaven's Gate Watch the world gyrate -- fuck it If there's a hole in the bucket, I'll plug it If your fat body talkin' shit, then I'll slug it Scared of your girl's clit? I'll suck it Cheese thick from the bricks, I'll pluck it I like rhymin' like Mascis My beats are like molasses Sweet and slow like Jackie Onassis With Alzheimer's Social climbers Slip on my diarrhea MCs sound the same, like onomatopoeia God bless the Infesticons! Fuck the Majesticons! God bless the Infesticons! Fuck the Majesticons! Exasperated, systemic miscalculation Four thousand twisted roads to salvation Choose one sand-blasted alabaster bastard Gilded monogram, four heads commanded their commanders Comin' up flat like South Park Marlon Brandos Celebrates his Contradicticons We assume question marks are for morons, but I'm askin' What floor are we on? Where's the connection? Disseminated web of 360 degrees of relations On juxtaposed plantation Soul Station Zebra This world's a two-foot closet with Taurus, Cancers and Libras Three Trent Lotts and two Eldridge Cleavers Five John Wayne Gacies and one Beaver All out to get cheese like dreamweaver They cops ain't nothing but lost believers Hiding out in the Bronx camouflage with a goatee in the season [scratch] "Nothing less... nothing more" God bless the Infesticons! Fuck the Majesticons! God bless the Infesticons! Fuck the Majesticons! God bless the Infesticons! Fuck the Majesticons! God bless the Infesticons! Fuck the Majesticons! |
I won't post the actual lyrics, because that would take up pages in this thread.
-N.W.A - A Bitch iz a Bitch -Dr.Dre - Forgot about Dre -Dr.Dre - Let Me Ride -Dalek - Abscence -Dalek - A beast caged -Ghostface Killah - Child's Play -Wu-Tang Clan - I can't go to sleep -Noah23 - Lizard Lion Eagle -Gravediggaz - 1-800-SUICIDE -Deltron3030 - 3030 -N.W.A - Express Yourself -Aesop Rock - Daylight (Don't like him too much, but I love these lyrics) |
If first you don't succeed try, try again
Step up to the mic and die again This is the next lifetime and you wanna battle Either you like reincarnation or the smell of carnations The sample's the flesh and the beat's the skeleton You got beef but there's worms in your Wellington I'll put a hole in your skull and extract your skeleton Oh my God, said a word twice, Vast Aire, I'm twice as nice You get caught up, in my blade, might get diced The flesh is dangerous here Yo, hahaha, yo, it's Can O, yo If first you don't succeed try, try again Step up to the mic and die again This is the next lifetime and you wanna battle Either you like reincarnation or the smell of carnations The sample's the flesh and the beat's the skeleton You got beef but there's worms in your Wellington I'll put a hole in your skull and extract your gelatin Mustard seed faith move mountains This is jailhouse rap, rock hard Like faces in a cell block You'll catch a Kennedy curse from the speedknot Son, I mack cause I think different Plus your girl's sex technology, I wanna plug in Now every golden egg my goose lay stay golden With your poker face, I punch you in the stomach and you folded Folded, f-f-folded, folded, f-f-fo-fo- |
Artist: MF Doom is Viktor Vaughn
Album: Venomous Villain Song: Back End Typed by: kill4747@Hotmail.com [MF Doom/Viktor Vaughn] Dub it off your man, don't spend that ten bucks I did it for the advance, the back end sucks It's better than sittin up in a crack den wit the Mac 11 Yellin at your feinds and friends to duck There's feds at the door, oh it's just Fed Ex I thought I heard walkie talkies, must've been them redneck Neighbors of mine they fuckin with they CB And we in the spot watchin COPS on TV Blazin greens, thumpin Big's first cd Drinkin OE, hopin pigs don't see If they was psychic, they try ta give em the electric chair It's gettin hectic in here, and it's a election year Keep this section clear, VIP Shed a few tears since a knee-hi G And got more tricks up my sleeve, cough, hick-up cough and sneeze Make a emcee sick and dry heave weeze They must be still allergic to a Real raw rhymer with skills thats surgical Take the day off and lay off the crazy water It don't faze V as he lay up wit your lazy daughter.. With your lazy daughter [MF Doom/Viktor Vaughn] ...Heat the bake, V came to eat your team steak And for desert, a treat, the green cake So much sweets it's a dream, it seem fake These type feinds make your beat machine break It's on the fritz, put it on the ritz And watch what he gets, once his mits is on the glitz A lot of rappers is soft tit, talk shit They need to do us all a big favor, cawk it ..Spit it like raw grits, get it They better off forfeit admit it Relaxin in your town, once the tall quit V keep comin back with more and more hits.. More hits |
From My Philosophy by Boogie Down Productions
who gets weaker? the king or the teacher it's not about a salary it's all about reality teachers teach and do the world good kings just rule and most are never understood |
Quote:
wow, how did I know you would be on this thread right away? |
to quote roots manuva: ''There ain't no blood in my body/ only liquid soul in my veins''
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Quote:
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Get my drink on, and my smoke on
Then go home with, somethin' to poke on |
rep for you my friend...rep for you
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I like cLOUDDEAD- Physics Of A Unicycle, Son of a Gun, Rifle Eyes (and every other cLOUDDEAD song... but these are favourites)
Buck 65- in every dreamhouse there is a heartache, and all of "Secret House Against the World" (album) (i dont feel like getting lyrics for all these...) |
if it wasnt for middle class white kids hip hop wouldnt be as popular as it is. who said that?
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Eric B. And Rakim - Eric B Is President
I came in the door, i said it before I never let the mic magnatize me no more But it's biting me, fighting me, inviting me to rhyme I can't hold it back, I'm looking for the line, Taking off my coat, clearing my throat My rhyme will be kicking it until I hit my last note My mind'll range to find all kinds of ideas Self-esteem makes it seem like a thought took years to build But still say a rhyme after the next one Prepared, never scared, I'll just bless one And you know that I'm the soloist So Eric B, make 'em clap to this I don't bug out or chill or be acting ill No tricks in '86, it's time to build Eric B easy on the cut, no mistakes allowed Cuz to me, MC means move the crowd I made it easy to dance to this But can you detect what's coming next from the flex of the wrist Saying indeed that I precede cuz my man made a mix If he bleed he won't need no band-aid to fix If they can get some around until there's no rhymes left I hurry up because the cut will make 'em bleed to death But he's kicking it because it ain't no half stepping The party is live, the rhyme can't be kept in- Side, it needs erupting just like a volcano It ain't the everyday style of the same old rhyme Because I'm better then the rest of them Eric B is on the cut and my name is Rakim Go get a girl and get soft and warm, Don't get excited, you've been invited to a quiet storm But now it's out of hand cuz you told me you hate me And then you ask what have I done lately First you said all you want is love and affection Let me be your angel and I'll be your protection Take you out, buy you all kinds of things I must of got you too hot and burned off your wings You caught an attitude, you need food to eat up I'm scheming like I'm dreaming on a couch wit my feet up You scream I'm lazy, you must be crazy Thought I was a donut, you tried to glaze me Funky... |
one of the greatest choruses ever, nonphixion's "i shot reagan":
yeah yeah, i shot reagan fuck a pagan ate falafel with menachim begin who the fuck is carl sagan? LL Cool J, "I'm Bad" Aaaahhhhhhhhhh... No rapper can rap quite like I can I'll take a musclebound man and put his face in the sand Not the last Mafioso I'm a MC cop Make you say, "Go L.L. and do the wop" If you think you can outrhyme me, yeah boy I bet Cause I ain't met a motherfucker who can do that yet Trendsetter I'm better my rhymes are good I got a gourmet plate that says I wish you would And when rap begin then I gotta join in and Before my rhyme is over you know I'm a win Cool J has arrived so you better make way Ask anybody in the crowd they say the kid don't play! Sparring competition that's my hobby and job I don't wear a disguise because I don't own the mob Got a pinpoint rap that makes you feel trapped So many girls on my jock I think my phone here is tapped I'm bad (Cool J) (Cool J) (Cool J) (C C C C Cool J J) (Cool J) (C C C C C C C Cool J J J J J) I'm like Tyson icin' I'm a soldier at war I'm makin' sure you don't try to battle me no more Got concrete rhymes been rappin' for ten years and Even when I'm braggin' I'm bein' sincere MC's can't win I make 'em rust like tin They call me Jaws my hat is like a shark's fin Because I'm bad as can be got my voice all waxed Some brothers think he's making records now he must have relaxed I couldn't shouldn't and it'll stay that way The best rapper you've heard is L.L. Cool J Kamikaze take a look at what I've done Used to rock in my basement now I'm number one And can happen on time never standin' on lime You wanna try me first you better learn how to rhyme I'm the pinnacle that means I reign supreme And I'm notorious I'll crush you like a jelly bean I'm bad I eliminate punks cut 'em up in chunks You were souped you heard me and your ego shrunk I'm devastating I'm so good it's a shame Cause I eat rappers like a cannibal they call me insane I'm as strong as a bull of course you know I am pull I enjoy what I'm doing plus I'm paid in full Not Buckaroo Bonsai but busted out as I Say the kind of rhymes that make MC's withstand I tie Never retire or put my mike on the shelf The baddest rapper in the history of rap itself Not bitter or mad just provin' I'm bad You want a hit give me a hour plus a pen and a pad MC's they retreat cause they know I can beat 'em And eat 'em in a battle and the ref won't cheat 'em I'm the best takin' out all rookies So forget Oreos eat Cool J coookies I'm bad (Cool J) (Cool J) (Cool J) (Cool J J J) (Cool J J J) (C Cool J) Never ever no never Never wearin' no Levis battle me why try I'll treat you like a stepchild so tell mommy bye bye Sparrin' MC's and I'm a never get with When I retire I'll get worship like a old battleship L.L. I'm bad other rappers know When I enter the center they say, "Yo, yo there he go!" My paycheck's large Mr. Bogart in charge Not a puncher or hunter from a rap cool large The original Todd teachin' how to be hard Take the skin off a snake and split a pea from a pod You're a novice I'm noble and I decipher my tongue Not Atilla the Hun but no I'm Threwler his son My vulture's exact like rack and pinion in a Jag You try to brag you get your rhymes from a grab-bag No good scavenger catfish vulture My tongue's a chisel in this competition sculpture redman, "blow your mind remix" AHHHH!! Look out, it's the Funkadelic Funk for chumps who don't be knowin my name, I tear the frame out ya punks I make ya slide, make ya slip, make ya wanna backflip I get biz with the skit, I DJ like Quik The topnotch of the block, cause I carry a glock Only hot rocks I'm hot, so give up the props My style is HUMMIN CUMMIN ATCHA, duck or get backed up Dispatcher: 'Red, get freaky to the rapture' So come on light the buddha check your honey while I scoop her The Soopafly, Jimmy fly Snooka rips the roof off Then hook off on your crew, to the check of one to two It's you! AHHHHHHHHHHH! Funky fresh in the flesh trail Come on and get down and boogie oogie with the ruffneck Hit women like Madonna all the way down to Smurfette But first get your tables I roast your whole record label kids Yo Red! (Whassup G?) Briiiiiidge! Look out.. AHHHHH! Can I tear the roof off this mother? It's the Funkdafied brother Then I laugh, because I burn ya like _Backdraft_ So call the fire engine cause I'm flamin up your buildin _One Life to Live_ so the funk is in _All My Children_ Cause I can get wicked like the witches from Eastwick And freak the type of funk to make all y'all teeth grit and crumble, my style is more flyer than ? Brundle ? Fly from the fly part one to fly part two PsychoBetaP-Funk, got styles hard as tree trunks For real punk, you got a blunt, light it cause I need one And get down with the irrelevant funk to make ya jump with the fly human being, watch me freak it in Korean Chu ri ka pi kyura mulla kara Nu gu nya nada na na nun Redman Na bo da challan nom hana do upda Yi sae sang cheil eu na nun Redman, my man [ Get away, get off me, get lost] [ Who am I, I am, I'm Redman] [ There's no one better than me] [ The world's BEST is REDMAN, my man] I rip shop in hip-hop I get props my lip rocks The rap stuff's more spooky than movies from Hitchcock Sit back relax let me rip to the funk track And press rewind if I haven't blown your mind ERRRK! Let me get busy with the funky fly stuff cause I cut your freakin eyes out, fuck Bruce Willis because I die rough It's the Funkadelic Redman and I hit ya with the Funkadelic level, the P-Funk, the devil The spectular, Blackula, bust holes like Dracula Loaded of course, more Legend than Acura I'm swift, I like big spliffs so I tisk tisk a tasket Plus keep the glock in my basket I cough up a lung cause I freak it with the tongue cause I can 'Wax on! Wax off!' like Daniel-son Do the yea yea, boogey say up jump the boogey to the boogey to the boogey thanks to E cause he hooked me So fuck what ya heard, word to herb, cause I mack Framalama, plus I kick the grammar, straight from -- NEW JERZ It's the renegade rap Redman, really who rip rhymes in rough mode Yo, hold your breath while I explode! kool keith, "livin' astro" I got my shades, big rock star compared to Elvis Signin autographs for rappers, while girls move they pelvis Write songs quickly, for Elton John or Lionel Richie Call up my butler, get clothes washed by the maid Ivory soap, this is clean, feel like Cascade I count the bills, roll to Detroit in Sedan DeVille's I throw my skully on, big robe like Marvin Gaye Step in the front row, primetime I move your way Budweiser Fest soundcheck, demanding more respect I come correct through the Metro, and turn y'all petrol I'm up here early bitin donuts sippin on espresso While you sleep, I creep, gainin ground by the week Ampex reels, makin phone calls, I'm closin deals I move with skill, ride through Philly streets in Cherry Hill I'm doin it well, I'm doin it swell Yeah Flying saucers, spaceships move at warp speed MTV level three when I fly on BET Livin' astro, tell me how you feel One two, one two Movin roughly, straight to the desert, San Antonio I talk swift the Rock King Black Romeo I pack clubs, promoters put me out in Tokyo Damage your area, I'ma launch a fierce missile I roll schools, movin butt like I'm toilet tissue What is your issue? You over man, I don't miss you Scottie soft, you play like Jan Van Britteclaw New Jersey Nets real man, you ain't no Donald Hillman Bald head like Slick Watts, I run rap like Mayor Koch Forward your info, while Tony Lou, crank the Benzo Move out your driveway, white girls look, turn they eyeway Jealous in fact, tryin to rip the capes off my back I move with calm and, potential, through instrumentals Y'all front on BET with slum gold, drivin rentals I get real dino, runnin groups like a rhino Endin careers, that's my job, yo your rap is final Cancel your in-stores, your new job is moppin floors Fixin tiles, stoppin potholes up on the roof You work for service no tips man I speak the truth Flying saucers, spaceships move at warp speed MTV level three when I fly on BET Livin' astro, tell me how you feel One two, one two Flying saucers, spaceships move at warp speed MTV level three when I fly on BET Livin' astro, tell me how you feel One two, one two, one two Pull your hoods down, I bumrush your afterparty Have your manager scared, the radio station say I'm sorry Pack your bags, I move my luggage to the coliseum Infinite prime piece with statues in the rock museum Changin my zones, drinkin cocktails on cellular phones I tour with Anthrax, through Texas with the Rolling Stones Booked by the agency, famous artists payin me Hotels with fly room, with sneakers starin at the moon Mad atmosphere, ridin first class on British Air Lobster and steak, while y'all back in time, doin remakes I'm futuristic, nine-nine, to the year 4000 I make announcements, drop skills, then I bounce with fly young ladies, AMG kicks, 2000 Mercedes Brand new models, only seen one, in Colorado Light green metallic in the Shark Bar, eatin salad Lorenzo Wills, valet park, shoppin in Beverly Hills Step up your wildest spaceship kid, in the Plymouth Prowler Comin down Flying saucers, spaceships move at warp speed MTV level three when I fly on BET Livin' astro, tell me how you feel One two, one two |
Gang Starr - "Flip The Script"
Brave is the knave who steps up to be slayed by the one who forgave him for his first mistakes He'd best behave, or I'ma send him a wave of some shocking volts, he doesn't know what he's talkin about He's kickin a bunch of crap, so I'll be the judge of that The boy lacks artistry, but still he tries hard to be an entertainer, but instead he's a waste of my time and your time so I'll kick the pure rhymes Whenever you're looking for rap that's exceptional and credible, straight to the G's you better go Cause GangStarr's known to be prone to be masters of streetwise poetry, and turntable wizardry and it'll be, a cold day in Hell, when you hear that the Guru or Premier ever fell, suckers get sales but they fail in the long run, that kid who went gold yo That was the wrong one, but the spotlight tonight is all on me I'm the Guru, of the G-A-N-G Taking out scrubs cause they rub me the wrong way and I'll say, that they've still got a long way to go to show they can flow like a real pro So gimme that loot catch the boot from my steel toe I'm changing the scenery and I make em uncomfortable cause most MC's ain't really got no pull Watch me stifle em quick with the gift and the wit Make em quit all that riff as I flip the script Chorus Fool listen, I know that you've been missing all this and so my rhymes are gonna gleem and glisten like a gem, and if you are the fake MC type I'll shine so bright I'll be blinding your eyesight Your capabilities fall short, so I'ma treat you like a dwarf on a basketball court, still you try to rap And even claim you got new styles but rolling your tongue's been played out for a while And you don't sound fly, so why are you doing that? You had a dope track but you're wack so you ruined that I couldn't make out what you were saying your diction is jumbled where as me I'm conveying clear thoughts, to a crowd that's most critical Booty duck rappers like you are just pitiful I bet you couldn't name more than one pioneer Cause you didn't pay dues and you got on on outta nowhere But that's OK cause I'm peeping your card If rap was my house you'd be sweeping the yard As I recline I'll find more chores to give ya like moppin the floors or maybe fetchin my slippers So don't even trip or run off with the lip Cause as soon as you slip you know I'll flip the script Chorus So as I kick a bit flip the script without a skip butter roll MC's get dissed like this You'll never got none son because I'll become troublesome You rap like a simpletona And I hate scum I can easily deflect your threats cause they're idle my recital will break you down Just a fight til the end, cause I can take ten at a time Give em all a fair shot to see if any can rhyme And even if one is decent, I'll still get props I'll kick the slick lines til the last one drops As my powerful skills are unveiled I'm tippin the scales and weighing much more than your tall tales Stop the exaggeration perpetration observe and make simple notation Nobody no where no way or no how is taking me out cause I can throw so you know now Can you feel it, I bust the real raps so lay off before I steal that, so called title that you gave yourself But you really ain't jack so yo you played yourself And now you look from a distance as you sweat my tip You know I'll whip you swift when I flip the script |
big pun, "the dream shatterer"
Ay-yo I shatter dreams like Jordan, assault and batter your team Your squadron'll be barred from rap like Adam & Eve from the garden I'm carvin' my initials on your forehead So every night before bed you see the "BP" shine off the board head Reverse that, I curse at the first wack nigga with the worst rap Cuz he ain't worth jack hit 'em with a thousand pounds of pressure per slap Make his whole body jerk back, watch the earth crack hand him his purse back I'm the first Latin rapper to baffle your skull Master the flow, niggaz be swearin' I'm blacker than coal Like Nat King, I be rapping and tounge's packing The ones, magnums, cannons and gatling guns It's Big Pun! The one and only son of Tony...Montana You ain't promised manana in the rotten manzana C'mon-pana we need more rhymers feel the marijuana snake bite anaconda A man of honour wouldn't wanna try to match my persona Sometimes rhymin' I blow my own mind like Nirvana Comma, and go the whole nine like Madonna Go try to find another rhymer with my kinda gramma When you awaken, your manhood'll be taken Fakin' like you Satan when I'm the rhymin' abomination I'm pure adrenaline, uncut, straight to your gut, medicine Raw cure for pain I coat your brain like polyurathane Simple and plain, I'll explain it in layman terms If you came to learn how to make fire, I'm-a make it burn! Higher and hotter than lava this scholar is 'bout just as smart as MacGyver To put honor inside the heart of a lion revolved in a life of crime (crime!) Fuck it I like the shine (shine!), Up in the white and lime (lime!) Comes with the pipe design Plushed out! (No doubt!) Both pockets about to bust out If you not in it for the spinach, GET THE FUCK OUT! Take a hike, we can even battle to make it right Go 'head lace the mic, you finished? Say good night... Head to head in the street, I'll leave you dead in your feet Settlin' beef, I'll even let you rhyme to the Benjamin beat But it won't matter, you dreams still gon' shatter It's a long ladder to climb and mine is on the stagger So get outta town, 'fore I hit you with the loudest sound you ever heard Desert bird player you outta bounds [CHORUS (3x)] You need the Pun to dis you if your whole steez is unofficial I'll come and get you and let the desert eez tounge kiss you With one pistol and two clips, I'll make your crew do flips Like acrobatics, I'm charismatic, my gat is magic It makes rappers disappear, whipser in your ear Crystal clear, come here, let me kiss your tears Everything you fear is here, you ain't got to search further The first murder's the worst now I thirst further for reverse birth Every verse hurts, every curse word's already more offending Than Eddie Murph's worst I thirst for blood like a vampire, any man claimin' his game's tighter IS A GOD DAMN LIAR! I set 'em on fire, retire your train of thought Drain a quart of blood out your brain and leave you insane in the dark The king of New York! Lays his crown in the Boogie Down And sprays the town, with a Mac hoodied down I'm no joke! I soak your face with a sweeper Dying disgrace, I'll face your death through the speaker cannibal ox, "iron galaxy" [ Vordual Megala ] Life's ill, some-time's life might kill Vordul Mega, five digits grab mic's mic strike type ill Is life real? Yo akhi builds When life feels, like earth don't spin Whirlwinds mic blend Lifes at a stand-still, dangerous cuz man kills And still, cats visualize life ghetto like Born mind, sometime these cats see life Street life incomplete light and be like I'm a live life after this One crime, one line from the Mega-la Blow spine, everyone Knows the city's ill, cats kill Still black man holds nine Gotta chill star C-A.L.L.A.H Be the light of Shamar Work hard Shamar C-Cipher-A.L.L.A.H Adapt bars snatch stars and detach large, channels But our bar's handle might break mic's Vordul Megala the cannibal ate mic's Strive live live fuck five I want a hundred and eight mic's "Son, yo son did you see that kid yo? Yo, yo, Chill out man, chill out. Yo son did you, yo son he pulled it out..." Five digits cock biddy nine mili One floor shine silly Spun city one verbs hit milly Little girls spinnin' curls three sixty Livin' in in a world shitty Yo they spun young earth, now shitty And while 5-0 might shoot black head Nigga sorry I sold space suit to crack heads D.T's operate mechanically, po-po in slow-mo Black kids, locked away Attic key, plus one fourth pound of smoke flow While, lock head fabian Achmed Arabian Layin' in Bodeg holdin' drama a.k Spoke like as-salaam-a-opaque Chokin' vodka mixed with o.j Wig splits mad quick Spinnin' three six oh ways C 4 blew the door nuber eight Summer fate tank top wit a knot Number nine said run the place Took my girl, stereo, c.d plus the tape Yo star, don't wet that Fucked her face lets stuff the plays Jet back to santa cruz californ-i-a Peace to C-God locked up cat born nine ways Come home mad soon Live ill, life things just like little black girl got shot Damn it hurts when they spun earth filled with knots Gonna make a difference so we get locked Caught in the shit and losin' what we got Come on black E-qual-E-qual "Do you know that you're one of the few pradator species that preys even on itself?" [ Vast Air Kramer ] And if there's crack in a basement Crack heads stand adjacent Anger displacement Two step arangements You were a still born baby Mother didn't want you, but you were still born Boy meets world, of course his pops is gone What you figga That chalky outline on the ground is a father figure So he steps to the next stencil, that's a hustler Infested with money and diamond cluster Lets talk in laymen terms Rotten apples and big worms Early birds and poachers New York is evil at it's core, so those who have more than them Prepare to be vic-tims Ate up by vultures, the politicians In a dog eat dog culture, that'll sick 'em Lack of mineral, we take it personal A pigeon can't drop shit if it never flew Every day is no frills, empty krills Broken 40 bottles and m.c's with skills I rest my head on 115 But miracles only happen on 34th, so I guess life is mean And death is the median And purgatory is the mode that we settle in "No doubt" I've got that Eve's Bayou sense of touch So I fought, to touch every hand of a fan to read their thoughts Battered wives, molested children Roaches on the floor, rats in the ceiling Cats walk around New York with two fillin's One is in their mouth the other, does the killin' I'm Vast Air, Kramer, top billin' |
nas' second verse in "the world is yours"
To my man Ill Will, God bless your life "It's yours!" To my peoples throughout Queens, God bless your life I trip we box up crazy bitches aimin guns in all my baby pictures Beef with housin police, release scriptures that's maybe Hitler's Yet I'm the mild, money gettin style, rollin foul The versatile, honey stickin wild, golden child Dwellin in the Rotten Apple, you get tackled Or caught by the devil's lasso, shit is a hassle There's no days, for broke days, we sell it, smoke pays While all the old folks pray, to Je-sus' soakin they sins in trays of holy water, odds against Nas are slaughter Thinkin a word best describin my life, to name my daughter My strength, my son, the star, will be my resurrection Born in correction all the wrong shit I did, he'll lead a right direction How ya livin large, a broker charge, cards are mediocre You flippin coke or playin spit spades in strip poker nas, "it ain't hard to tell" (probably my favorite hip hop song of alltime) It ain't hard to tell, I excel, then prevail The mic is contacted, I attract clientele My mic check is life or death, breathin a sniper's breath I exhale the yellow smoke of buddha through righteous steps Deep like The Shinin', sparkle like a diamond Sneak a uzi on the island in my army jacket linin Hit the Earth like a comet, invasion Nas is like the Afrocentric Asian, half-man, half-amazin Cause in my physical, I can express through song Delete stress like Motrin, then extend strong I drank Moet with Medusa, give her shotguns in hell From the spliff that I lift and inhale, it ain't hard to tell The buddha monk's in your trunk, turn the bass up Not stories by Aesop, place your loot up, parties I shoot up Nas, I analyze, drop a jew-el, inhale from the L School a fool well, you feel it like braille It ain't hard to tell, I kick a skill like Shaquille holds a pill Vocabulary spills I'm +Ill+ plus +Matic+, I freak beats slam it like Iron Shiek Jam like a tech with correct techniques So analyze me, surprise me, but can't magmatize me Scannin while you're plannin ways to sabotage me I leave em froze like her-on in your nose Nas'll rock well, it ain't hard to tell This rhythmatic explosion, is what your frame of mind has chosen I'll leave your brain stimulated, niggaz is frozen Speak with criminal slang, begin like a violin End like Leviathan, it's deep well let me try again Wisdom be leakin out my grapefruit troop I dominate break loops, givin mics men-e-straul cycles Street's disciple, I rock beats that's mega trifle And groovy but smoother than moves by Villanova You're still a soldier, I'm like Sly Stone in Cobra Packin like a rasta in the weed spot Vocals'll squeeze glocks, MC's eavesdrop Though they need not to sneak My poetry's deep, I never fell Nas's raps should be locked in a cell It ain't hard to tell meth and red, "how high", red's verses only: While the planets and the stars and the moons collapse, When I raise my trigga finga all yall niggaz hit the decks, Cause aint no need for that hustlers and hardcores, Raw to the floor raw like Reservoir Dogs, The Green Eyed Bandit can't stand it, With more Fruitier Loops then that Toucan Sam Bitch, Plus, the Bombazee got me wild, (Fuckin with us) is a straight suicide I bees the ultimate rush to any nigga on dust, The Egyptian Musk use to have me pull mad sluts, I shift like a clutch with the Ruck, Examine my nuts I dont stop till I get enough, Your shit broke down light your flare, Since the darkside tears you into hollywood squares, 6 million ways to die so I chose, Made it 6 million and 1 with your eyes closed, The blindfold, cold so you can feel the rap, And shatter the glass and second half on your monkey ass, And yo my man (Tical) hit me now, Bitches use to play me now they cant forget me now, Forget me not I rock the spot check glock, Empty off a lickin off a hip hop, Fuck the billboard I'm a bullet on my block, How you dope when you payed for your billboard spot [Verse 6: Redman] Look up in the I got the verbs nouns and glocks in ya Enter the centa lyrics bang like rico-chet, Rabbit, I brings havoc with an A-K matic, Rollin blunts an all day habit, I get it on like Smiff and Wess, Who clicks the best, Punks take a sip and test, Who split your vest, The funk phenomenon, I'm bombin you like Lebanon, Blow canals of Panama, Just off stamina, Styles not to be fucked with or played with, Fuck the pretty hoes I love those Section A Bit-ches, Hittin switches, Twistin wigs with, Phat radical mathematical type scriptures, I dig up in your planets like Digga, Boo scared you blew you to smitha-reens, Fuck the marines I got machines, To light the spit and read Mad magazine, I fly more heads than Continental, Wreck ya 5 times like US AIR off an instrumental, Look I'm not a half way crook with bad looks, But I may murder your case like your name was Cal Brooks, I breaks em up proppa, Ask Biggie Smalls Who Shot Ya, Funk doctor with the 12 Gauge Mossberg, Look I got the tools like Rickle, To make your mind tickle, For the nine nickle, (Yo Red, yo Red!) Punk ass pussy ass (You ain't gotta say no more man, thats it) Word up Tical, We Out (IT'S OVER) Sick ass niggas |
Good call on the Non Phixion jenn.
Mike D yea with your bad self running things What's up with your bad breath onion rings ?!? Well I'm Mike D and I'm back from the dead Chillin' at the beach down at Club Med If You Only Knew-Jurassic 5 Never think just for Shits and giggles Do we spit sylable riddles For bits and kibbles So chics can wiggles and shake Cause this image is fake I'm tryin hard to relate In a place filled with so much hate Some brothers debate Some love or some hate Whatever the case Its all about the choices you make That's the reason your balloon'll deflate But to relate We tryin' to take rap back to its primitive state, wait No overnight success or runnin' with vets Just pure unadulterated work progress I'm willin' to bet the farm You'd give your right arm For a piece of the pie Ask yourself, Why? If you only knew The trials and tribulations we been through But if you only knew We're real people homey, just like you We humble, but don't mistake us for some corny ass crew What we do, is try to give you what you ain't used to Soul music, somethin' we can all relate to Yo yo, I ams what I am and thats all I can be Uh, no more no less what you're seein' is me Akil the emcee dubbed the U-I-S-C, uh Wise, intelligent, God did bless me Yes we, rock up off the S-B freshly Especially dangerous rough and deadly The pimp positioner, tip the Richter...Scale Alone we sink together we sail and prevail The rum raisin comin through guns blazin' Some of you duns runnin' ones with none savin' Complainin', me and my clan are unscathen From the soul comes somethin' amazin' Yo, how many times I got to hear Some fanatic in my ear Tellin' me I got to keep it real When they ain't payin' my bills Or feedin' my kids, judgin' me on how I live If my crib in the hood or if its up in the hills? Have you forgetten who you are? Oh, you think yo a star Why you frontin'? (You ain't nothin') You went from nothin' to somethin' But somethin' means nothin' if ya people still wantin' And ya got money and givin' them nothin' Flossin' and frontin' Ya game of sharades The way you behave The image you save Yeah brother thats one big parade I'm sick of your ways I'm sittin here spittin a phrase Next time they smile and they wave They probably be with a gaze Soul..soul..soul..soul..soul |
[Kool Keith]
One two one two, one two one two One two one two, one two one two! One two one two, one two one two! I just step and I rap rap Move and you clap clap Dance and wiggle, and little feets go tap tap Over and switch switch, change my pitch pitch You can get down down, rock with my sound sound As I rock freak a rhyme, blow up the town town MC's in the back, Double Trouble can learn learn As I start to burn burn, MC's wait your turn turn Look at me black black, don't come to me wack wack I chew em like gum, eat your crew like a Snack Pack Walk and I flex flex, check and I stop stop Beat em on down down, suckers I rock rock Cling on, swing on, walk and you step step Pick up your pep pep, build up my rep rep Move and get smacked smacked, I'm tellin you black black I told you again, I'm clockin fat knots ("I'm the freaker, the one who freaks the funk" -- Cypress Hill) One two one two, one two one two One two one two, one two one two ("I'm the freaker, the one who freaks the funk") One two one two, one two one two Continue I flow flow, not stiff and I blow blow X'll get raw raw, and travel on tour tour MC's they get crushed crushed, stomped in the dust dust Mack-10 Tec, every rhyme goes bust bust Out on the West West, facing your chest chest Let me go rock rock, people just clock clock Girls they wet, damp panties and jock jock Move and I swing swing, to Riker's and Sing-Sing Knock on your brain, picture bell go ding ding MC's that flow flow, I think they all so-so Like G.I., G.I., kiddie toy named Joe Joe Rappers are doodoo doodoo, deep as a voodoo voodoo Come and don't play play, watch what I say say Pick up your mic, I'm clockin fat knots ("I'm the freaker, the one who freaks the funk") One two one two, one two one two One two one two, one two one two X'll get wreck wreck, breakin your neck neck Your brain is the seed, like a bird I go peck peck Don't call me no Jeff-Jeff, Keith no Sweat Sweat You can be dog dog, cat and my pet pet As I go woo woo, yo B I'm so smooth smooth Rhymin like Wild Bill, strong and I feel feel Suckers ain't jack jack, jumpin on Zapp Zapp Thinkin they funk funk, soft and they punk punk Like they in jail jail, soft and they swing soft But I gotta dip dip, you stay off my tip tip (Why?) Inside Hermin's Head, I'm clockin fat knots ("I'm the freaker, the one who freaks the funk") One two one two One two one two, one two one two ("I'm the freaker, the one who freaks the funk") One two one two, one two one two One two one two, one two one two ("I'm the freaker, the one who freaks the funk") One two one two, one two one two One two one two, one two one two ("I'm the freaker, the one who freaks the funk") ("I'm the freaker, the one who freaks the funk") Artist: UltraMagnetic M.C.'s f/ Godfather Don Album: The Four Horsemen Song: Raise It Up Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash Intro: Kool Keith Yeah... yo Don, gimme a little bit of that chicken That smooth chicken, a little bit of that gravy And I want some... old hot jazz biscuits With a little bit of that blues butter Bring in the snare Verse One: Kool Keith They never understood, many people were so slow My funky type of rhyme, and my style is pyscho Complex wrecks wrecks, my style go X X I move around off beat, creatin more styles Showin white boys, other kids my black styles I kick lyrics like shoes right in your face Walk up on a carJack of Spades, pluck the ace I get slow-er, down in, on in Flowin like I used to be on Critical Beatdown I drop styles on ears the public bite em Not many went to school, so the dummies wouldn't write em They say yo Keith, yo Kool, you usin big words I went to college, I'm even more stupid herb Back on the scene to put a lesson out Even if I have to pull a black Smith and Wesson out I grab a hammer stick a nail in that little crack Tame the monkey show the hummingbird how to act I get atomic, hypo-galactical Word to mom I'm in my own world Galaxy rays! Powerful Artist: Nas Album: Illmatic Song: N.Y. State of Mind Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash [Intro: Nas]Yeah yeah, aiyyo black it's time (word?)(Word, it's time nigga?)Yeah, it's time man (aight nigga, begin)Yeah, straight out the fuckin dungeons of rapWhere fake niggaz don't make it backI don't know how to start this shit, yo, now[Verse One: Nas]Rappers I monkey flip 'em with the funky rhythm I be kickinMusician, inflictin compositionof pain I'm like Scarface sniffin cocaineHoldin a M-16, see with the pen I'm extreme, nowBulletholes left in my peepholesI'm suited up in street clothesHand me a nine and I'll defeat foesY'all know my steelo with or without the airplayI keep some E&J, sittin bent up in the stairwayOr either on the corner bettin Grants with the celo champsLaughin at baseheads, tryin to sell some broken ampsG-Packs get off quick, forever niggaz talk shitRemeniscing about the last time the Task Force flippedNiggaz be runnin through the block shootinTime to start the revolution, catch a body head for HoustonOnce they caught us off guard, the Mac-10 was in the grass andI ran like a cheetah with thoughts of an assassinPick the Mac up, told brothers, "Back up," the Mac spitLead was hittin niggaz one ran, I made him backflipHeard a few chicks scream my arm shook, couldn't lookGave another squeeze heard it click yo, my shit is stuckTry to cock it, it wouldn't shoot now I'm in dangerFinally pulled it back and saw three bullets caught up in the chamberSo now I'm jetting to the building lobbyand it was filled with children probably couldn't see as high as I be(So whatchu sayin?) It's like the game ain't the sameGot younger niggaz pullin the triggers bringing fame to they nameand claim some corners, crews without guns are gonersIn broad daylight, stickup kids, they run up on usFo'-fives and gauges, Macs in factSame niggaz'll catch a back to back, snatchin yo' cracks in blackThere was a snitch on the block gettin niggaz knockedSo hold your stash until the coke price dropI know this crackhead, who said she gotta smoke nice rockAnd if it's good she'll bring ya customers in measuring pots, but yoYou gotta slide on a vacationInside information keeps large niggaz erasin and they wives basinIt drops deep as it does in my breathI never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of deathBeyond the walls of intelligence, life is definedI think of crime when I'm in a New York state of mind("New York state of mine" --> Rakim *repeat 4X*)[Verse Two: Nas]Be havin dreams that I'ma gangster -- drinkin Moets, holdin TecsMakin sure the cash came correct then I steppedInvestments in stocks, sewein up the blocksto sell rocks, winnin gunfights with mega copsBut just a nigga, walking with his finger on the triggerMake enough figures until my pockets get biggerI ain't the type of brother made for you to start testinGive me a Smith and Wessun I'll have niggaz undressinThinkin of cash flow, buddah and shelterWhenever frustrated I'ma hijack DeltaIn the P.J.'s, my blend tape plays, bullets are straysYoung bitches is grazed each block is like a mazefull of black rats trapped, plus the Island is packedFrom what I hear in all the stories when my peoples come back, blackI'm livin where the nights is jet blackThe fiends fight to get crack I just max, I dream I can sit backand lamp like Capone, with drug scripts sewnOr the legal luxury life, rings flooded with stones, homesI got so many rhymes I don't think I'm too saneLife is parallel to Hell but I must maintainand be prosperous, though we live dangerouscops could just arrest me, blamin us, we're held like hostagesIt's only right that I was born to use micsand the stuff that I write, is even tougher than dykesI'm takin rappers to a new plateau, through rap slowMy rhymin is a vitamin, held without a capsuleThe smooth criminal on beat breaksNever put me in your box if your shit eats tapesThe city never sleeps, full of villians and creepsThat's where I learned to do my hustle had to scuffle with freaksI'ma addict for sneakers, twenties of buddah and bitches with beepersIn the streets I can greet ya, about blunts I teach yaInhale deep like the words of my breathI never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of deathI lay puzzle as I backtrack to earlier timesNothing's equivalent, to the new york state of mind("New York state of mind" --> Rakim *repeat 4X*)("Nasty Nas" --> cut and scratched 8X) |
Percee P - Lung Collapsing Lyrics
<Eh yo, Perc> eh, yo, what's up? <eh yo, kick some ol' lung collapsing lyrics for the feeble minded MCs to assimilate> all right <yo, let the homicides begin> I know what you mean, yo, give me the mic I'm the capital P-E-R-C-double E dash P-P dash double E-C-R-E-P in me shots in top lyrical fitness that's why you bit this get this, I got a witness and I won't quit this and flip flop, get dropped, shit I'm in tip top shape lyrics escape, can't even catch him with tape main attraction using my brain a fraction of my knowledge or wisdom a lyrical rhythm'll give 'em a migraine, before I reign on stage you better walk like the fingers on a yellow page rhymes and homicides are lethal, nobody's equal to me no one survived, so why make a sequel? MC Percee P give no mercy to anybody MC'in 'till they reimburse me I cold grip the mic, strike then rip his life my raps dilapidate adversaries with kryptonite hit you with a verse, make you disperse but first call up a hearse 'cause Perc leave you worse than this brain cells shatter, MCs scatter I splatter them all with something that ain't even matter got a ladder on stage women runnin', comin' every age but never(?) ring on my finger this thing'll linger un-engaged renegade, Percee P ain't afraid of no one no gun or son, I'm gettin' paid and my rec's played every weekend like lottery, rap's a part of me words flow but don't show no blood in you artery ladies greet me, treat me like the stars when I show up they start to throw up all their panties and bras at me rap is the last of me now to gas women with my pencil I send you into a mental catastrophe this rhyme ain't designed for prime time and a battle line for logic behind every mind tryin' to rhyme with intellect, spellin' all incorrect defy your every line, mine's an introspective those in the premises will always remember this record, elected your top ten, stop then and reminisce Percee P, no rapper get worse than me when it comes to rhymes every verse will be harder than titanium, parts from your cranium burst, disperse, every verse explodes like uranium so, yo, don't upset me, 'cause that will only get me mad enough, it's bad enough, I had enough of lettin' this amateur rock a cord or wallabies I bet they're all the P's and if they ain't they gonna be to all y'all critics, just admit it my style is dope you can't cope and you hope to get it you're captivated, activated, rap related fans leave infatuated when I get open the place starts smokin' you start chokin', showboat and Perc get broken rehearse a while, let it get versatile I reverse your style, ok, be then maybe Perc'll smile you're put in a stretcher when I let the style get ya', I bet ya' sweat the Rhyme Inspector records you manufacture are so wack you can't sing 'em or bring 'em, people fling 'em back at ya you're the fattest, baddest, of the best copycata's when you played it, it's rated G for garbage 'cause that's your status nobodies iller on the mic you never know when I'mma strike 'em like the Zodiac killer this twenty two year old veteran, you ain't better than medicine won't help, slicks think we're peddlin' when writers bite and hype the type parasites swipe you're bitin', you're stage fright, don't even hold the mic right yeah, this is the Rhyme Inspector Percee P coming from the Boogie Down Bronx I want to give a shout out to the Ultramagnetic, Organized Konfusion to everybody around the way at Paterson Projects, I want to say peace I dedicate this to my cousin, Kevin Turner, rest in peace |
Artificial amateurs, aren't at all amazing
Analytically, I assault, animate things Broken barriers bounded by the bomb beat Buildings are broken, basically I'm bombarding Casually create catastrophes, casualties Cancelling cats got their canopies collapsing Detonate a dime of dank daily doin dough Demonstrations, Don Dada on the down low Eatin other editors with each and every energetic Epileptic episode, elevated etiquette Furious fat fabulous fantastic Flurries of funk felt feeding the fanatics Gift got great global goods gone glorious Gettin godly in his game with the goriest Hit em high, hella height, historical Hey holocaust hints hear 'em holler at your homeboy Imitators idolize, I intimidate In a instant, I'll rise in a irate state Juiced on my jams like jheri curls jockin joints Justly, it's just me, writin my journals Kindly I'm kindling all kinds of ink on Karate kick type brits in my kingdom Let me live a long life, lyrically lessons is Learned lame louses just lose to my livery My mind makes marvelous moves, masses Marvel and move, many mock what I've mastered Niggas nap knowin I'm nice naturally Knack, never lack, make noise nationally Operation, opposition, off, not optional Out of sight, out of mind, wide beaming opticals Perfected poem, powerful punchlines Pummelling petty powder puffs in my prime Quite quaint quotes keep quiet it's Quannum Quarrelers ain't got a quarter of what we got uh Really raw raps, risin up rapidly Riding the rushing radioactivity Super scientifical sound search sought Silencing super fire saps that are soft Tales ten times talented, too tough Take that, challengers, get a tune up Universal, unique untouched Unadulterated, the raw uncut Verb vice lord victorious valid Violate vibes that are vain make em vanished ? well would a wise wordsmith just Weaving up words weeded up, I'm a workshift Xerox, my X-ray-diation holes extra large X-height letters, and xylophone tones Yellow back, yak mouth, young ones yaws Yesterday's lawn yards sell our (yawn?) Zig zag zombies, zoomin to the zenith Zero in zen thoughts, overzealous rhyme ZEA-LOTS!.... |
They say it's lonely at the top in whatever you do
You always gotta watch motherfuckers around you Nobody's invincible no plan is foolproof We all must meet our moment of truth Verse One: Guru The same sheisty cats that you hang with and do your thang with could set you up and wet you up nigga peep the language It's universal, you play with fire it may hurt you or burn you, lessons are blessings you should learn through Let's face facts, although MC's lace tracks it doesn't mean behind the scenes there ain't no dirt to trace back That goes for all of us, there ain't nobody to trust It's like sabotage, it's got me ready to bust But I can't jeapordize, what I have done up to this point So I'ma get more guys, to help me run the whole joint Cultivate, multiply, motivate, or else we'll die You know I be the masterof the who what where and why See when you're shinin, some chumps'll wanna dull ya Always selfish jealous punks, will wanna pull ya down, just like some shellfish in a bucket cause they love it, to see your ass squirm like a worm But just as you'll receive what is comin to you Everybody else is gonna get theirs too I ain't no saint, therefore I cannot dispute That everyone must meet their moment of truth Chorus: Guru Actions have reactions, don't be quick to judge You may not know the harships people don't speak of It's best to step back, and observe with couth For we all must meet our moment of truth Verse Two: Guru Sometimes you gotta dig deep, when problems come near Don't fear things get severe for everybody everywhere Why do bad things happen, to good people? Seems that life is just a constant war between good and evil The situation that I'm facin, is mad amazin to think such problems can arise from minor confrontations Now I'm contemplatin in my bedroom pacin Dark clouds over my head, my heart's racin Suicide? Nah, I'm not a foolish guy Don't even feel like drinking, or even gettin high Cause all that's gonna do really, is accelerate the anxieties that I wish I could alleviate But wait, I've been through a whole lot of other shit, before So I oughta be able, to withstand some more But I'm sweatin though, my eyes are turnin red and yo I'm ready to lose my mind but instead I use my mind I put down the knife, and take the bullets out my nine My only crime, was that I'm too damn kind And now some skanless motherfuckers wanna take what's mine But they can't take the respect, that I've earned in my lifetime And you know they'll never stop the furious force of my rhymes So like they say, every dog has it's day And like they say, God works in a mysterious way So I pray, remembering the days of my youth As I prepare to meet my moment of truth ("You should know the truth And the truth shall set you free" --> from _Who's Gonna Take the Weight?_) Verse Three: Guru Yo I got one lyric pointed at your head for start Another one, is pointed at your weak ass heart Now if I pull the trigger, on these fully loaded lines You're gonna wish I woulda pulled a black nine, I mack dimes Crack the spines of the fake gangsters Yeah the bitin triflin niggaz, and the studio pranksters Yo lookin at the situation plainly: will you remain G? Or will you be looked upon strangely? I reign as the articulator, with the greater data Revolvin on the TASCAM much doper than my last jam While others struggle to juggle, tricky metaphots I explore more, to expose the core A lot of MC's, act stupid to me And we have yet to see, if they can match our longevity But anyway it's just another day Another fake jack I slay with my spectac' rap display Styles, smooth but rugged -- you can't push or shove it You dig it and you dug it cause like money you love it The king of monotone, with my own throne Righteously violent prone my words bring winds like cyclones Stormin your hideout, blockin out your sunlight Your image and your business, were truly not done right Throw up your he-Allah-I now, divine saviors You got no hand skills there's no security to save ya No pager, no celly, no drop top Benz-y I came to bring your phone hip-hop, to an ending My art of war will leave you sore from the abuse Cause you must meet your moment of truth First Chorus |
Straight outta Compton, crazy motherfucker named Ice Cube
From the gang called Niggaz With Attitudes When I'm called off, I got a sawed off Squeeze the trigger, and bodies are hauled off You too, boy, if ya fuck with me The police are gonna hafta come and get me Off yo ass, that's how I'm goin out For the punk motherfuckers that's showin out Niggaz start to mumble, they wanna rumble Mix em and cook em in a pot like gumbo Goin off on a motherfucker like that with a gat that's pointed at yo ass So give it up smooth Ain't no tellin when I'm down for a jack move Here's a murder rap to keep yo dancin with a crime record like Charles Manson AK-47 is the tool Don't make me act the motherfuckin fool Me you can go toe to toe, no maybe I'm knockin niggaz out tha box, daily yo weekly, monthly and yearly until them dumb motherfuckers see clearly that I'm down with the capital C-P-T Boy you can't fuck with me So when I'm in your neighborhood, you better duck Coz Ice Cube is crazy as fuck As I leave, believe I'm stompin but when I come back, boy, I'm comin straight outta Compton Yo Ren Whassup? Tell em where you from! Straight outta Compton, another crazy ass nigga More punks I smoke, yo, my rep gets bigger I'm a bad motherfucker and you know this But the pussy ass niggaz don't show this But I don't give a fuck, I'ma make my snaps If not from the records, from jackin the crops Just like burglary, the definition is 'jackin' And when illegally armed it's called 'packin' Shoot a motherfucker in a minute I find a good piece o' pussy, I go up in it So if you're at a show in the front row I'm a call you a bitch or dirty-ass ho You'll probably get mad like a bitch is supposed to But that shows me, slut, you're composed to a crazy muthafucker from tha street Attitude legit cause I'm tearin up shit MC Ren controls the automatic For any dumb muthafucker that starts static Not the right hand cause I'm the hand itself every time I pull a AK off the shelf The security is maximum and that's a law R-E-N spells Ren but I'm raw See, coz I'm the motherfuckin villain The definition is clear, you're the witness of a killin that's takin place without a clue And once you're on the scope, your ass is through Look, you might take it as a trip but a nigga like Ren is on a gangsta tip Straight outta Compton straight outta Compton is a brotha that'll smother yo' mother and make ya sister think I love her Dangerous motherfucker raises hell And if I ever get caught I make bail See, I don't give a fuck, that's the problem I see a motherfuckin cop I don't dodge him But I'm smart, lay low, creep a while And when I see a punk pass, I smile To me it's kinda funny, the attitude showin a nigga drivin but don't know where the fuck he's going, just rollin lookin for the one they call Eazy But here's a flash, they never seize me Ruthless! Never seen like a shadow in the dark except when I unload, see I'll get over the hesitation and hear the scream of the one who got the last penetration Give a little gust of wind and I'm jettin But leave a memory no one'll be forgettin So what about the bitch who got shot? Fuck her! You think I give a damn about a bitch? I ain't a sucker! This is the autobiography of the E, and if you ever fuck with me You'll get taken by a stupid dope brotha who will smother word to the motherfucker, straight outta Compton |
Artist - Hilltop Hoods
Album - Left Foot Right Foot Lyrics - What The Seasons Change i once knew this man who was cursed from birth, destined to stagger through his life just to earn his worth. In one turn of the earth this story takes its place upon the summer shores of nowhere the place that he makes his home he returns alone from a long day having lost his job .... his home and fiance the wrong way to turn was the path that he took, he pissed his savings up the wall and on the grass he was hooked the path that he took for granted had messed with his .... he missed the finer points such as lessons in life It was his word to be ... that brought the cool in his heart And by the time the autumn came things were falling apart... things were falling apart So now hes standing in the dole queue, this girl with the face of an angel says hes looking down but she has a way to sustain you, it comes in a powder form and its good for healing scars but healing scars comes at the cost of robbing till's and steeling cars. Feeling far from obliged he follows her lead, down a beaten path where the homeless wallow in seed he swallows his need for pride he cant hold his thin weight so finds him self in a church to control his intake, being judged by a father for trying to pave his way he looks him in the eyes and asks hows your faith these days, i strive for better he replies in tones with sentiment but i lost all faith in this god that i once saw heven sent. He never meant to destroy all the things that he came across. Its the sour taste of defeat on the street, now all aim is lost, the pain and cost, f or his mistakes but never even really a sinner ..HUH..Its gonna be a long winter, His brow body shudders as the winter wind passes through him. Thinking of all the people in his past that knew him. The shafted or screwed him. His heart is brewin for knowing what he must do is seek shelter and aid from the love he once knew. One last shot fo courage hits him then his eyes are blood red. Inside he sees a man living the life he once led. Forfits in to the anger and torture within he decides to pay back mankind for her sins jumps in a stolen car grabs a needle from the glove box, deciding that he never even really knew what love was, he kicks in the front door to catch em havin sex, slams him to the floor then stabs her in the neck She kicks and she screams so he beats her till shes slack mouthed realising what he's done he says dumb founded, smacked out. Blacks out. Awakens in a holding cell knowing he cant see hope tommorow is spring... Time for regrowth,x3 So with the first light of spring the officer removes his chains, his mood is pained as he re-enters the world his vision to regain. Takes a step and says in a divine statement 'anything lost can be found again except for time wasted.' He's right adjacent on a path to heal himself, kicks the habit before he kills himself and feels his health returning in the mental n physical. His intention ...... Though a struggle when prevention is visable. Redemption isnt all its cracked up to be he decides as he dreams of smackin up a key. On the brink of life or loss, not knowing what he's holding so before he fucks it up again somebody should have told him. No matter your status factors weve all been humbled, no matter the foundation all solid things can crumble, no matter the strength or length something sustained, it never stays the same thats simply what the seasons change. No matter your status factors weve all been humbled, no matter the foundation all solid, things can crumble, no matter the strength or length something sustained, it never stays the same thats simply what the seasons change. |
Kool G Rap w/ MF Grimm and B1 - Money on My Brain
Ninety-five, keep it live Yeah to make papers, knahmsayin? Motherfuckin Kool G. Rap and B1 and my motherfuckin man Grimm Just comin with somethin to keep the brainstem .. [B1] It's Big 1 son, Jamaica Queens is the turf And I'ma exploit, heaven and earth, for what it's worth It's the MC extrordinaire, the jewels glare The God is rare, I'm takin bitches back to my lair I want mines and yours, strippin niggaz to they drawers No probable cause, with the chrome double 4's It's the Queens New Yorker with a bulletproof parka In eighty-four, it was Calvins and British Walkers Now I'm sippin Harvey's Bristal Cream with the glock 17 as the sirens race to the scene Tryin to get dough, like Pablo, today, fuck tomorrow Seats for carro, as I recline in Monte Carlo I got the game down to a science, it's the clients that turn small time hustlers into giants Three course meal, waitin for my appetizer Blowin like a geyser, time only makes me wiser Paraphenalia, and material, makes the crew imperial I put the fear in you, sippin beer with two Handlin business properly, form a monopoly Storefront property, if not, another robbery I'm puttin forth the effort, murder's the method The steak is peppered Son when I let off you meet your Lord and shepherd Bloody money gets niggaz deaded and wetted Don't forget it, money's the metal and my hand is magnetic Chorus: Grimm, B1 I gotta flip these bricks cause bein broke drive me insane Money's on my motherfuckin brain From O-Z's to ki's the triple beam brings fame to my name Money's on my motherfuckin brain Niggaz be scheamin and teamin but still I maintain Money's on my motherfuckin brain Cause money and murder go hand in hand It ain't nothin but a game Money's on my motherfuckin brain son [Grimm] Cryin hopin God forgive me for the ones I killed But until still, I dry my eyes with hundred dollar bills Like McDonald's, makin mills servin Fuck a Landcruiser now, pulls a ? to Suburban Stressed out, sittin thinkin past bed time Scared can't sleep, nightmares about fed time Diamonds, linens, ostrich and all that Fat shit I'm talkin code cause my phone's tapped Crackheads worship me like I'm Jesus Uncle Sam can't stand me cause I'm fuckin all his nieces Cuties every colour, who I wanna fuck next? Buy a new car, maybe Lamborghini trunk next Look at the jealousy in the eyes of the roughnecks Bulletproof glass just in case they wanna buck Tecs A large ratio in this game dies But I'm flippin pies, til the Senate legalize Chorus: Grimm, G. Rap (same lines) [Kool G. Rap] I'm sportin flavors and Timbs, a ninety-five Bezn with the chrome rims Presedential Rolex, two carat diamonds with the stone gems Pockets filled with lucci leather wallets designed by Gucci Parlay in resteraunts, eatin shrimp, scampi and sushi Fly minks, with icicles that blink inside cuban links Lookin ?, brothers stink, got loot like I'm doin banks Hundred dollar bottles of chammy, condos in Miami Front row seats up at the Grammy's, the broke niggaz can't stand me Hold the flame low, hotel suites inside the Flamingo Just home by the dingos, I step up in em rockin Kangols Straight up fakin no jacks, cause all my crackshacks are jam packed My mad stacks, show that I'm on the right track, like Amtrak So stand back, cause I'ma make whatever it takes to shake Jakes, and shoot snakes, and bake more snowflake cakes than Drake's Cut up your grill like I'm the Barber of Seville Still like Gotti bodies are found inside the harbor cause I'm ill It's war, but no more kids are bein kidnapped, matter of fact ain't with the shit black, I was young when I did that There's dope in the Copa Cabanas, cock back the hammers So niggaz in pajamas get they wigs split like bananas Stable of hotties, niggaz with shotties catchin bodies Neighborhood John Gotti with more notes than Pavarotti Yeah, paid as a motherfuckin bank teller The Goodfella, I stay a motherfuckin drug seller |
Straight outta Lowcash
Crazy muthafucka named Gusto Fucked your wife cuz the bitch is a big ho Fucked your sister Fucked your cat Would fuck your mom but the bitch it too fat |
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