| ************************************************** | |
| Fuck Y’all Niggas* the same song appears on the outsidaz "night life" ep | |
| Intro | |
| Yeah, rah digga once again, about to set it on niggas | |
| Representing for all my bitches across the globe | |
| Ladies we gon' set it one time, c'mon... | |
| Chorus 1 (rah digga) | |
| Say fuck y'all niggas (fuck y'all niggas) | |
| Everyone of y'all niggas (everyone of y'all niggas) | |
| Don't trust y'all niggas (don't trust y'all niggas) | |
| Fuck all y'all niggas (fuck all y'all niggas) | |
| Verse 1 (rah digga) | |
| All my bitches that had it up to here | |
| We about to make changes coming in the new year | |
| Say fuck y'all niggas (fuck y'all niggas) | |
| Don't trust y'all niggas (don't trust y'all niggas) | |
| Stayin' up in the game give all these lazy fuckers | |
| Trife ass strife with all them wack baby mothers | |
| Fuck y'all niggas (fuck y'all niggas) | |
| Everyone of y'all niggas (everyone of y'all niggas) | |
| Let's take their bail money, make it hair and nail money | |
| Chanel money, nike and adidas shell money | |
| Bitches 'bout to shut down your whole line of gang | |
| Gasp! thinking you gon' put some shit in money | |
| It goes with other women shoe kinda fitting | |
| Suck a nigga's friend, tell his man like he hit it | |
| Lying on your dick, blow your spot, oh well | |
| Bunch of bum ass niggas can't even cop hotels | |
| Chorus 1 | |
| Chorus 2 (young zee) | |
| Fuck y'all bitches (fuck y'all bitches) | |
| Fuck all y'all bitches (fuck all y'all bitches) | |
| I don't trust y'all bitches (don't trust y'all bitches) | |
| So fuck y'all bitches (fuck y'all bitches) | |
| Verse 2 (young zee) | |
| On my room ceiling, i got mad mirrors built in | |
| So when i fuck you you're gon' feel like you're at the hilton | |
| Fake dime hoes, you give 'em alizé | |
| You can smell their toungues from a hundred miles away | |
| Y'all lame gucci bitches (fake gucci bitches) | |
| Stink coochi bitches (stink coochi bitches) | |
| My niggas pop girls up in back of zee's truck | |
| But we ain't going nowhere till after we fuck | |
| Cause ??? we might not touch, how that sounding? | |
| I don't give a fuck if a bitch come in growling | |
| Tell your girls 'fuck everyone of us' | |
| Y'all hoes can eat till your motheruckin' stomach bust | |
| Drop your drawers, come slop my balls | |
| You'll get a trip going straight to the mall and i... | |
| Let your pretty ass run loose | |
| And go distract the cops while your ass go 'boost!' | |
| Chorus 1 | |
| Chorus 2 | |
| Chorus 1 | |
| Chorus 2 | |
| ************************************************** | |
| The Nigga In Me[Intro] | |
| Y'all must be out y'all muthafuckin' minds | |
| It's the nigga in me (x4) | |
| You must've bumped yo muthafuckin' head | |
| It's the nigga in me (x4) | |
| They gon' read it and weep | |
| They wanna wake a sleepin' giant that ain't even asleep | |
| Playin' w/ my 70s, and my PS3 | |
| I kept hearin' my name, I said let me see | |
| "The bitch might be a nigga, for reala, she Rah Digga" | |
| [Verse 1] | |
| What the fuck man? | |
| This guy, you barely caught a meal short of fish fry | |
| Think I'm lettin' this fly, Fat Trel can kiss my | |
| Global rap ass, he barely out of D.C | |
| Tried to look him up, he ain't even got a wiki | |
| On his records gettin' cheeky, tryna throw some shee shee | |
| I'm right at the door, like when a dog's gotta pee pee | |
| Some say it's beneath me, I should be the bigger artist | |
| But this what happens when you get a nigga get started | |
| The veterans, I love the referange | |
| I love to talk slick, I love to reprimand | |
| Dudes sayin' my name, I come like candy man | |
| Made Nightmare on E Street, more like Candy land | |
| Have them rhymes you be spittin', sound like Rhythm and Blues | |
| Mel Gibson, what he did to them Jews | |
| This Waka Flocka mixed with Choppa, done forgot what Rah Digga could do | |
| Such a lady and I'm still more nigga than you | |
| "You remind me of Rah Digga | |
| A bitch rappin' like a nigga | |
| Or was it a nigga rappin' like a bitch?!" | |
| [Verse 2] | |
| Y'all invoked that spirit, and them raw ass lyrics | |
| From the only female too raw to compare it | |
| To most of these rap dudes that claim they so street | |
| I don't think I'm that rough, I think niggas too sweet | |
| Soccer mom harder than y'all, man that's pitiful | |
| Now I understand why rap is so ridiculed | |
| Went up on twitter, and I found these jokers | |
| Sits em on my next chapter, sit em down like Oprah | |
| I'm like Yo Gabba Gabba, this no laughin' matter | |
| This grown woman swagger, to you monkey rap bastards | |
| Keep it in your own bracket, don't get too erratic | |
| This Hunger Games shit, I use you for practice | |
| Fuck is you creatin', son, a whole generation | |
| Of some, hey horton, skateboardin', worshippin' satan asses | |
| Bingin' on drugs, somebody get me the gloves | |
| I don't think they need deals man, I think they need hugs | |
| And I was trying to support this young black man | |
| It's too bad you probably lost your only black fan | |
| From now on, keep anointing ointment and ??? | |
| Take it any further, and you might catch a backhand | |
| [Outro] | |
| BITCH | |
| See, you don't have to like me | |
| You don't gotta listen to my shit | |
| But you will respect me | |
| Bitch! | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Imperial[Chorus: Rah Digga] | |
| Flipmode the Imperial | |
| You know you love it when you hear us on the radio | |
| Go cop the joint and play the shit up in your stereo | |
| Or in the streets up in your Jeeps or in the disco | |
| And if you want the fly shit, my nigga, here we go | |
| You know it's Digga lookin pretty in the video | |
| With Bus-a-Bus up in the cut but you don't hear me though | |
| Just when you think we done we hit y'all we got plenty mo' | |
| Blow! | |
| [Verse 1: Rah Digga] | |
| It be's the little mama, lip gloss and eyeliner | |
| The only shit poppin like White Castle or the diner | |
| Rah Digga make the joints that the DJs blast | |
| Ghetto diva in the Source with the 3 page ad | |
| Watch as the hood rat messiah climb swiftly | |
| Labels scarred to death to let their artist bomb with me | |
| Cause you can send your thuggest MC and watch me son 'em | |
| The ruggedest bitch, don't even rhyme about gunnin | |
| Got joints circulating like them old karate flicks | |
| Buncha Rah Digga shirts on some big body chicks | |
| Throw my shit in your hoopty or your luxury trucks | |
| And make the quickest turn around like 'dro for 20 bucks | |
| And I'll still be the greatest if this rap shit fail me | |
| Back to jackin bootleg flicks from out the deli | |
| Livin off the interest | |
| Sippin on Tequila with my logo on the side of fuckin 18 wheelers | |
| Chorus | |
| [Verse 2: Busta Rhymes] | |
| Ay yo yo yo | |
| Raze and dazzle niggas like ya'll | |
| Spray niggas like you and dismantle niggas like y'all | |
| I got the thing that'll majorly handle niggas like y'all | |
| Fight y'all, bust a semi and cancel niggas like y'all | |
| I know some joke niggas who love to hassle niggas like y'all | |
| Talk, and fix and simply dance on niggas like y'all | |
| Trample niggas like y'all | |
| Make examples outta niggas like y'all | |
| Grit their teeth and cock the hammer up inside the dance hall | |
| Thugs, here's another sample for niggas like ya'll | |
| Or for the ones who pass and light a roman candle for niggas like y'all | |
| Fight for niggas like y'all | |
| Grad the mic from motherfuckers like y'all | |
| Blow the spot in the night for all my niggas like y'all | |
| My get high niggas, I blaze for niggas like y'all | |
| Stink the spot up with 'dro now spray the fuckin Lysol | |
| You know we be the ultimate | |
| We fuckin with some other shit | |
| And when we hit y'all | |
| Yes, we sit and watch ya'll niggas ride the dick | |
| Chorus | |
| (Busta Rhymes) | |
| A'yo, clap and slap up a nigga for talkin lotsa wack shit | |
| While I roll around with the Harriet Thugman of this rap shit | |
| (Rah Digga) | |
| Black chick, with intellect, who wanna match wits? | |
| Write my own rhymes so can't no nigga tell me jack shit | |
| (Busta Rhymes) | |
| Master shit, Flipmode exclusive across the map and shit | |
| Presenting the first lady of the squad so give me dap and shit | |
| (Rah Digga) | |
| Sayin' peace when you see me, play the role like Ally Sheedy | |
| And I ain't gon' join ya cipher if the weed's too seedy | |
| (Busta Rhymes) | |
| Yo, make sure you see what we doing now, put on your binoculars | |
| Then I gas ya like a paid latino down at Banco Popular | |
| (Rah Digga) | |
| Rah Digga underground and gon' always blow the spot for ya | |
| Longest runnin shit since the Phantom of the Opera | |
| (Busta Rhymes) | |
| Bus-a-Bus, going down as one of the greatest spoken philosophers | |
| Holding a 12-shot semi with a little red dot for ya | |
| (Rah Digga) | |
| First and only female unmatched by anyone | |
| Rip it from old school to the next millennium | |
| Chorus | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Tight[Intro: Rah Digga] | |
| Yeah, Rah Digga, Flipmode, Outsidaz | |
| Shit tight, down to the coochie | |
| Yeah, check it | |
| [Verse 1] | |
| And I say what's tight | |
| Cause a sister write rhymes all day and all night | |
| Dwelling South of the Hudson, New Jerusalem | |
| In seclusion, using fake pseudonyms | |
| Mind travels like a skitzo on two tabs | |
| With doo rags hangin from my pockets | |
| [Me] Me, the rap bitch that goes back to paediatrics | |
| (Early lessons) rappers like you were straight vixen | |
| So recognize, I make a nigga eyes come alive | |
| Off of five two fives, disguise the camouflage | |
| I shoot a virus out of my spirals with mad priors | |
| For takin' mad niggas titles! | |
| Wetter than a reservoir; lurking in the bushes | |
| Striking blows like Chesimard code-name Hasana | |
| Warmer than a bomber, hotter than the region of Ghana | |
| Get loot like that Trump bitch, Ivana | |
| [Hook] | |
| Now, who be writin rhymes all night | |
| Rah Digga in tha house and plans is tight | |
| Tight, peace to the ones that don't bite | |
| Rah Digga in the house and my plans is tight | |
| [Verse 2: Rah Digga] | |
| A black queen, ya best believe my black jeans won't say Paco | |
| I swing to the Vill' for some waffles and some beef falafel | |
| Rap very tight liquor got me different | |
| Dirtier than an overseas shipment of ki's | |
| I write these tight buttas, creme de la guttas | |
| Call me Sheik Digga | |
| Plotting over loops like the eight figures | |
| Baby I'm hard, represent the feminist God | |
| What that gets blunted - watch rhymers runneth, over | |
| See me in the camel Range Rover | |
| Chop, and I won't stop for Jake | |
| And keep heat by the waist for those that playa hate | |
| Now show you the way to blow, better than I tell you | |
| Word to my beeper and my cellu-lar [What?] Polo curls | |
| Diggin all the rapper's shit like they go-go girls | |
| [Hook] | |
| [Verse 3] | |
| Who's the tightest | |
| I rock with laryngitis | |
| Gold's good for Midas, but I want the highest | |
| So don't try me cause I be the bitch, I swear | |
| I'll leave you twisted like a thug with blonde hair | |
| Yeah, I blow up the spot like Dennis Scott | |
| Go forward, your chance of defeatin me is morbid | |
| Cause I get you open like the comin of the Pope | |
| When I group shit tighter than a 3 piece suit | |
| Peace, peace, peace to niggas I rhyme wit | |
| My Outsidaz correspondents be more fluid than embalmin' | |
| We pros, I decompose any rapper to the bone | |
| Down to they X and Y chromosome | |
| So see my name tagged in bold or italics | |
| Bow, bitch, cause I'll be the only one salvaged | |
| Number one imported like Beck's | |
| Tighter than three or more heads in a CRX | |
| [Hook] | |
| [Outro] | |
| Tight, tight, aight | |
| And the plans is tight | |
| Tight, tight, tight | |
| Tight, tight, aight | |
| And the plans is tight | |
| Tight | |
| [Busta] | |
| One, two, three, bo | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Party & Bullshit 2003[Intro: Rah Digga] + (Just Blaze) | |
| (A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it | |
| (A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it | |
| Shake it around shake it, shake it around shake it | |
| (A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it | |
| (A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it | |
| Shake it around shake it | |
| (Just Blaze!) Shake it around shake it | |
| [Verse 1: Rah Digga] | |
| We 'gon take this through the roof | |
| See me on the move checkin cats like who's who | |
| Fall through a little spot me and the whole gang | |
| Flirt with a couple cats but I don't say no names | |
| Here we go now, I'm like gypsy chicks | |
| See me cruisin until that my six is wipped | |
| And we off to the races (Say what?!) | |
| Me and all my aces everywhere we go the same faces | |
| Wave yo' hands, Jersey clan | |
| Drink a little somethin at the MGM Grand | |
| Mami fly, watch your man | |
| Me takin loses I be damn | |
| What's the crew name (Flipmode) off the chain (Big dogs) | |
| And we stay in the flossin game | |
| See me on the front line like G.I. Jane | |
| Old girl get it locked shhh I ain't playin | |
| [Chorus] | |
| Everybody on the floor I tell ya all | |
| And if ya don't do nothin but play the wall | |
| Come on left side (Left side) right side (Right side) | |
| Front to back come on everybody | |
| We 'gon party and bullshit and party and bullshit | |
| And party and bullshit and party and bullshit | |
| [Verse 2: Rah Digga] | |
| I beat that bitch with a bat (Say what?!) | |
| I beat that bitch with a bat (Say what?!) | |
| Get stank I'm a flip to a New York Yank | |
| Love is love ma leave it at that | |
| You see where I'm at movie star like Lucy Liu | |
| Keepin up with me how souped is you?! | |
| Boy state your purpose get on down | |
| Come on work this work this work this (Owww!!!!) | |
| Pullin up to my bumper baby | |
| Body language somethin crazy | |
| Gettin hot in herre this is a party or what | |
| Only been here a minute cats startin it up | |
| Got trees got licks of the yack (Say what?!) | |
| Got trees got licks of the yack (Say what?!) | |
| Come one come all we 'gon have a ball | |
| Bitch mob got seats in the back (Ho!!!!) | |
| [Chorus: Rah Digga] | |
| Everybody on the floor I tell ya all | |
| And if ya don't do nothin but play the wall | |
| Come on left side (Left side) right side (Right side) | |
| Front to back come on everybody | |
| We 'gon party and bullshit and party and bullshit | |
| And party and bullshit and party and bullshit | |
| [Bridge: Rah Digga] + (Just Blaze) | |
| Shake it around shake it, shake it around shake it | |
| Shake it around shake it | |
| (Just Blaze!) Shake it around shake it | |
| [Verse 3: Rah Digga] | |
| It's time for the percolator, Dj's 'gon rock the fader | |
| Come on drop it like a hot potato | |
| Everybody let's percolator (Come on!) | |
| Fellas in the club lookin righteous | |
| With a tight chest I think I might just | |
| Hit 'em with a little Biggie one on one | |
| Talkin 'bout he stops drinkin now that ain't no fun | |
| Yeah I'm on that, a little cognac | |
| In the system watch mami straight throw it back | |
| Come on shake it around bounce it around break it on down | |
| Digga Digga is crazy right now | |
| [Chorus: Rah Digga] | |
| Everybody on the floor I tell ya all | |
| And if ya don't do nothin but play the wall | |
| Come on left side (Left side) right side (Right side) | |
| Front to back come on everybody | |
| We 'gon party and bullshit and party and bullshit | |
| And party and bullshit and party and bullshit | |
| [Outro: Just Blaze] + (Rah Digga) | |
| To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) | |
| To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) | |
| In the bricks y'all in the bricks (Where we at?) | |
| In the bricks y'all in the bricks (Where we at?) | |
| To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) | |
| To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Break FoolYeah | |
| Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha | |
| Rah Digga, Dirty Harriet, Yall | |
| Ah Shit | |
| Bricks | |
| [Verse 1] | |
| See me on the block with the chromed out drop | |
| Lambskin head to toe bustin out my halter top | |
| 'Tight' rippin through tha hood | |
| Blow up the whole spot | |
| With tha system | |
| TV | |
| All Mine | |
| EASY!! | |
| Working the scene on the quest for lime green | |
| Steady puffin on brown just for the time being | |
| Battle raps on cock I get all up in your anus (yea!) | |
| Trying to get a record deal, battling somebody famous | |
| Pounds to my girls as we slide up in the dance bar | |
| Niggas in my grill like they really got a chance | |
| Chicken heads trying to front like they not Digga fans | |
| Say fuck yall!! | |
| Groupies | |
| Do me | |
| TRULY | |
| Shittin on MC's, what I do for a living | |
| Tight takin over spots like my name was Robin Givens | |
| Anybody got a beat, then they better keep it hittin | |
| Retailers put your fit in for the hottest chick spittin | |
| [Hook] | |
| This for my niggas and bitches making moves | |
| In the day you play it cool, by night you break fools | |
| Say flood it, whip it, smoke it, trick it | |
| Flood it, whip it, smoke it, trick it | |
| This for my niggas and bitches makin moves | |
| In the day you play it cool, by night you break fools | |
| Say flood it up (Flood it up) | |
| Whip it up (Whip it up) | |
| Smoke it up (Smoke it up) | |
| Trick it up (Trick it up) | |
| [Verse 2] | |
| VIP area | |
| Certain heads get in | |
| Cats without wristbands steady trying to slip in | |
| Weed on delivery, everybody chip in | |
| Dump it, roll it, spark it, smoke it | |
| Ladies where you at say 'Do you queen!' | |
| Got a crib, got a whip, high heels, and tight jeans | |
| My straight thug bitches rock Tims and tattoos | |
| After one or two drinks be ready to act fool! | |
| Now, this for my real live underground cats | |
| Who be checkin for the rhymes | |
| Not checkin for the track | |
| Take away all the hype and a nigga straight wack | |
| Say fuck that! | |
| Fuck that! | |
| Fuck that! | |
| Fuck that! | |
| My squad hold it down passin bars, passin mics | |
| Make emcees stay at home with water and flashlights | |
| Ya'll motherfuckers crazy tell him 'Get the dick' | |
| Trying to see my clique, ain't even getting past the chick | |
| [Hook] | |
| This for my niggas and bitches makin moves | |
| In the day you play it cool, by night you break fools | |
| Say flood it, whip it, smoke it, trick it | |
| Flood it, whip it, smoke it, trick it | |
| This for my niggas and bitches makin moves | |
| In the day you play it cool, by night you break fools | |
| Say flood it up (Flood it up) | |
| Whip it up (Whip it up) | |
| Smoke it up (Smoke it up) | |
| Trick it up (Trick it up) | |
| [Verse 3] | |
| For those who want to whip it | |
| For those who want to flood it | |
| For those who want to buy it | |
| For those who want to dub it | |
| For those who want the sexy | |
| For those who want the rugged | |
| Say Digga | |
| DIGGA | |
| Hardcore | |
| Love it! | |
| Comin up fast while you're fallin even faster | |
| A blitz on a Jack handling my money matters | |
| For those who want to smoke it | |
| For those who want to trick it | |
| For those who want to hate me | |
| Niggas know where they can stick it | |
| [Hook 2x] | |
| This for my niggas and bitches makin moves | |
| In the day you play it cool, by night you break fools | |
| Say flood it, whip it, smoke it, trick it | |
| Flood it, whip it, smoke it, trick it | |
| This for my niggas and bitches makin moves | |
| In the day you play it cool, by night you break fools | |
| Say flood it up (Flood it up) | |
| Whip it up (Whip it up) | |
| Smoke it up (Smoke it up) | |
| Trick it up (Trick it up) | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Do the Ladies Run This[Hook] | |
| [Rah Digga] | |
| Do the ladies run this motherfucker? | |
| (Hell yeah!) | |
| Do the ladies run this motherfucker? | |
| (Hell yeah!) | |
| Put it down for the bitches all across the map | |
| All the real live bitches all across the map | |
| Go ahead, go ahead, go ahead, go ahead | |
| [Verse 1: Sonja Blade] | |
| Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo | |
| I'm on the roll like butter | |
| Flow gutter, fuck what a bitch going through | |
| Do or die is what you gon' do | |
| I warn you it's gonna get you and your guys killed | |
| With my skills stay on your toes like high heels | |
| And handle bars like bikes 'bout to blow like innertubes | |
| See me in the tube in the views to interludes | |
| Never see me in the nude, Blade gon' bend the rules | |
| Lock the street coming through with more rocks than Pete | |
| I'm into jewels I will not repeat | |
| Y'all obsolete, Sonya Blade y'all | |
| It's murder when they drop the beat | |
| I spit it once | |
| I'm hungry spit at lunch | |
| One take, I hate boxes so I don't punch | |
| I got a hunch, y'all figure | |
| Y'all gon stop my figgas | |
| Get on some rah-rah with Eve and Rah Digga | |
| But these my niggas so please my niggas | |
| Stop the Blade from where you don't know nann nigga | |
| [Hook] | |
| [Verse 2: Eve] | |
| Yo, yo now why y'all wanna make me get raw | |
| This bitch gon split ya, get tha picture | |
| Call yourselves emcees, titles don't even fit ya | |
| How they gonna stop us Digga? | |
| Try-na shine, the rest of them bitches | |
| Is past tense and out of time | |
| Cause my time line consists of many dreams shattered | |
| Trying to run up with two ryders deep as if it mattered | |
| When real bitches get to rockin', heads knockin' | |
| All dem chickens in their coupe gon do is get to squawkin' | |
| All the hating do is feed my temper, let me live | |
| Ice grillin' eyein' my clothes, I'm eyein' the crib | |
| E-V-E spell it out when you speak about her | |
| The only one out the bunch to hate | |
| The rest gon crowd around her | |
| Majority rules, it's our time, back the fuck up | |
| Cause the shit you sayin' out your mouth | |
| Make me crack the fuck up | |
| Laugh hard cause we pass y'all so dash broad | |
| Lay my shit by myself in the booth | |
| While y'all need flash cards | |
| [Hook] | |
| [Verse 3: Rah Digga] | |
| Yeah, check it out now Like that y'all | |
| Watch me sink three points | |
| Smash your whole LP with just my lead joint | |
| It's the rhyme super bitch gon' stay forever wildin' | |
| Smooth with the pen, Shakespeare, Edgar Allen | |
| Hot chick, catastrophic, blast the hot shit | |
| Your whole verse whack and bare no facts or logic | |
| Smash your clique in | |
| Y'all niggas only heard tidbits | |
| I put that on Gabana every rhyme I done spitted | |
| One-two, one-two | |
| Your whole crew I dismantle | |
| Rock fly gear and stay clear of sex scandals | |
| With drogues to spark wait for shows to start | |
| My put my niggas down if they know their parts | |
| Caramel give 'em hell from Bricks to Anadel | |
| Rappers try-na compete get ate like Samuel | |
| By a sister who twist a few L's rip it dually | |
| The song say It Ain't My Fault like Mystikal | |
| [Hook 2x] | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Bitch Gonna Get Ya[Afro Samurai Resurrection sample] | |
| He is not even worthy to die, by your hands | |
| And wicked hands, ahhh | |
| But with him, will not bring him peace | |
| My professor | |
| *screams* | |
| Damn! | |
| [Rah Digga] | |
| A bitch is gonna get ya, a bitch is gonna get ya | |
| And it ain't gon' be pretty, now let me paint the picture | |
| So we can do it hit style, by whipping out the slammers | |
| Or we can go medieval, with spear, shanks and hammers | |
| Now anyway you want it, a bitch is gonna get ya | |
| You playing Daredevil, I'mma be that bitch Elektra | |
| Now you can't even measure, you such a pretty gal | |
| A dropkick from me feeling like a fifty cal' | |
| A bitch is gonna get ya, this really could get dirty | |
| Box cutter in heels, seals thirty thirties | |
| You wanna call my bluff, ya'll nowhere near tough | |
| My shank turn furry Kangols to some earmuffs | |
| Make 'em all scatter like roaches | |
| A bitch is gonna get ya, now who is that approaching | |
| Somebody trynna see me, these jokers miss the memo | |
| They better about face, 'fore they going out the window | |
| A bitch is gonna get ya, a bitch is gonna get ya | |
| I'm jumping in your whip like that crazy ass Hitcher | |
| Sliced ear to ear like F.U. haters | |
| Except you ain't getting saved by no Caped Crusaders | |
| Saying to yourself, yeah that bitch crazy | |
| Think Green River Killer mixed in with John Gacy | |
| Your hits don't phase me, they make me laugh | |
| Now watch me go smack a bitch with my period pad | |
| I said a bitch is gonna get ya, but ya'll already knew that | |
| I catch another body every time I write a new rap | |
| How many of ya'll can do that, you know it's only one of me | |
| All of ya'll for cop shifty, ya'll just some wannabes | |
| A bitch is gonna get ya, you know a bitch coming | |
| It's not T-Pain, when you hear that thing humming | |
| Fully automatic, coming right out the spinner | |
| Call it lead lipo, make that ass look thinner | |
| A bitch is gonna get ya, a bitch is gonna get ya | |
| A bitch is gonna get ya, a bitch is gonna get ya | |
| A bitch is gonna get ya, a bitch is gonna get ya | |
| A bitch is gonna get ya, a bitch is gonna get ya, a bitch is gonna get ya | |
| A bitch is gonna get ya, like Wendy with the gossip, or even Miss Info | |
| With all her little topics, little blogging | |
| Yeah, ya'll all know, trynna match O stacking all that Harpo dough | |
| That chick with McCain, since Hilary out the picture, how can I put it bluntly | |
| A bitch is gonna get ya, Digga Digga | |
| Say peace when you see her, that ready to beat her, shit gets uglier | |
| A bitch is gonna get ya, a bitch is gonna get ya | |
| A bitch is gonna get ya, a bitch is gonna get ya | |
| A bitch is gonna get ya, bitch I'm gon' get ya | |
| Bitch I'm gon' get ya... | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Girl Samurai Lullaby[Chorus: Dionna Nichelle] | |
| Silly little girl, in a men's world, wish I could fly | |
| Dilly lilly pearl, caught up in a twirl, of a butterfly | |
| Ladadadadi, ladadadada, wish I could fly | |
| Silly little girl, caught up in this world, of lullaby | |
| [Rah Digga] | |
| See when the, mics go on, the lights go on | |
| It's like Muhammad Ali, and Tyson sparring | |
| I take a, stab at you, a jab at you | |
| I do 'em, Carrey style, I make 'em laught at you | |
| Try me, ain't nothing worse than a little defeat | |
| From trying to weak a sleeping giant that ain't even asleep | |
| I'm not your ordinary shorty, I be bobbing and weaving | |
| Don't even give me no excuses, just to knock a few teeth in | |
| Bust a shot like it's semen, you do not want to see it | |
| Have you in predicaments, you do not wanna be in | |
| The last man to try, the last man to die | |
| Wiggle my toes, then turn to the last samurai | |
| Move, who not to scare to die, we runnin' wit our spears | |
| To the sky, screaming Bis Mi Allah | |
| So please be advised, cuz she's gonna light up the trails | |
| Better listen to them old wise tales | |
| [Chorus] | |
| [Rah Digga] | |
| Without warning, shit could get real appaling | |
| And invalid, don't even know what to call it | |
| S.I.O., or you could call me bad business | |
| Talking eyes, while your boys in the hood, down to menace | |
| The skull smasher, basher, chicken head mangler | |
| Then use you as a tool for my misplaced anger | |
| The dude ripper, cuz they don't even see me come out | |
| I blind side 'em, 'fore they can even get they guns out | |
| Now who next to try, who next to die | |
| What you call fighting for your life, I call exercise | |
| Huh, coming through, looking like Lucy Liu | |
| Whipping shanks out, running down the block, WHOODI-WHO | |
| Ooh, you acting all intusive, we rolling kinda deep | |
| Up in this piece, now don't be foolish | |
| Don't make a sister lose it, that would not be condusive | |
| But wouldn't be the first time people die, for something stupid, stupid | |
| [Chorus] | |
| [Outro: Rah Digga] | |
| Here we go, baby, it's Dirty Harriet | |
| Digga digga ya'll | |
| ************************************************** | |
| The Last Word[Rah Digga] | |
| This is a story... | |
| But not really a story | |
| It's just some freestyle shit | |
| My name is Rah Digga, and this here is Tha Outsidaz | |
| My niggas, tell 'em | |
| [Az-Izz] | |
| Since I been on television, girls been beggin me to swell the kitten | |
| Black or white, when the lights go off, I can't tell the difference | |
| Thought you'd impress me, well you didn't | |
| I got mad freestyles and hella-written | |
| The hottest fella spittin' | |
| [Slang Ton] | |
| Never quitin', spittin more Outz than eleven innings | |
| Cheddar spendin, Slang Ton forever shittin | |
| You better listen | |
| [Young Zee] | |
| Yeah yeah, I tell a chicken "Zee hurtin' skeezers" | |
| Fuck you wit the strength of like thirty Herculeses | |
| I want the cash nigga, fuck them scabs | |
| Stab once or twice then the pussy up for grabs | |
| [?] | |
| I puff the hash in front of your mother's dad | |
| Cut a fag | |
| [Slang Ton] | |
| And put your brother ash in a duffle bag | |
| [Pacewon] | |
| Yeah, y'all fall in love wit that, Outsidaz comin | |
| Leave ya'll drunk like Olde English 800 | |
| Pacewon the fire-breathin Rah Rah dragon in the dungeon | |
| [Young Zee] | |
| American Werewolf from the Bricks, fuck London | |
| Chorus [Rah Digga] | |
| Set it off for my heads in Jerz | |
| Swear to God, weak rappers done struck my last nerve | |
| On wit' the swerve, mad bags of herb | |
| My Outsida click gon' get the last word | |
| [Pacewon] | |
| Our attitude is like a bad sitcom, nothin' funny | |
| Slap you like you stole something from me | |
| Yo we got raps by the page like Bill Gates got money | |
| *Along w/Rah Digga* First week out we top twenty, grungy | |
| [Young Zee] | |
| Dummy Young Zee, come get your mouth injured | |
| Diss us, watch I pop wheelies without Ninjas | |
| [Axe] | |
| Bring ya bliggy wit ya for the Brick City niggas | |
| Shittin on ya like kitty litter | |
| [?] | |
| You could do fifty situps, and I don't give a fuck if he bigger | |
| I throw a right hook that could drop any nigga | |
| Ya'll rock jewels that's Truck like Chevy pickups, TWISTA | |
| [Pacewon] | |
| All I want is money and my dick sucked | |
| Chorus | |
| [Az-Izz] | |
| Az-Izz got bad nerves, rank matters | |
| While you serve steak platters I'ma die ballin like Hank Gathers | |
| [Axe] | |
| Axe get the dough like cake batter | |
| Pockets stay fatter | |
| The way you rhyme makes me think that you the gay rapper | |
| [Pacewon] | |
| Face slapper like Roy Jones, I throw a bolo | |
| Break your team up like Chris Shwartz and Joe Niccolo | |
| [Slang Ton] | |
| Rippin a beige Volvo, bumpin a Slang promo | |
| We sign our autographs, Spell It Out like K-Solo | |
| Tha Outz straight to disk, too hot for tape or phono | |
| [Rah Digga] | |
| Takin photos wit the black and gray Polo's | |
| Ruinin niggas lives like they K-Ci or JoJo | |
| [?Nawshis?] | |
| Outsidaz takin a loss, that's a no-no | |
| Chorus | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Lessons of TodayRah-rah-rah Digga | |
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah | |
| Check it out now uh | |
| Dirty Harriet! | |
| Dirty Harriet! | |
| Dirty Harriet! Yeah! | |
| Where's my sisters? | |
| Where's my sisters? | |
| This one's for the brothers | |
| The brothers, the brothers | |
| Said I be rappin' for da ladies | |
| What's up ladies? | |
| But this one's for da brothers | |
| The brothers, the brothers | |
| Yeah check it out now | |
| Now I'm the baby in the family | |
| And I got three siblings | |
| Three older brothers and we trying to make a living | |
| So we hustle and we bubble | |
| And we coming up fast | |
| Ain't gon' never be the same | |
| Since mom and pops past | |
| The oldest one, child prodigy no doubt | |
| Every since he was a kid used to ride a bitch out | |
| All grown up now | |
| Nice job, nice clout | |
| Nice wife, nice house, try-na take the right route | |
| Treat sis like a queen brother gave me everything | |
| Any time I got in trouble he could probably pull some strings | |
| Walk daddy's footsteps and career same speed | |
| Made the greatest big brother and a father to his own seed | |
| (Uh-oh) But something happened on the job, he started snappin' | |
| Problems with the wifee, winging out and started cappin' | |
| Tried to turn himself in just to make things right | |
| Ended up taking flight cause he's not the jail type | |
| The lesson of today | |
| You have to listen to each and every single word I have to say | |
| Because... | |
| Rah Digga...remains raw | |
| (Follow the rules) | |
| (Ya hear me, huh?) | |
| The lesson of today | |
| You have to listen to each and every single word I have to say | |
| Because... | |
| Rah Digga...remains raw | |
| (Follow the rules) | |
| (Ya hear me, huh?) | |
| Now I got a second brother me and this one was closer | |
| Made me a little tom boy like he was supposed to | |
| Tearing up the place blowing weed in my face | |
| Irresponsible to death parents stayed on his case | |
| Probably cause he wanted to be the baby in the family | |
| Drinking with his friends, macking up | |
| Mommy carried me, look half way crook getting crazy on the mic | |
| Wasn't really into rap but the shit sound tight | |
| He used to tell me all the time | |
| Don't wet none sis | |
| By this time next year we gon' be dumb rich | |
| That's when I heard the ill | |
| My physical got killed | |
| Just a couple of weeks after signing a record deal | |
| Now somebody gots to bust and have to get a little tough | |
| And on the block round the clock | |
| Niggas ain't seen nothing | |
| Yeah right | |
| Never seen a brother more determined or eager | |
| Moms and pops couldn't see it | |
| Now we not gonna see it either | |
| The lesson of today | |
| You have to listen to each and every single word I have to say | |
| Because... | |
| Rah Digga...remains raw | |
| (Follow the rules) | |
| (Ya hear me, huh?) | |
| The lesson of today | |
| You have to listen to each and every single word I have to say | |
| Because... | |
| Rah Digga...remains raw | |
| (Follow the rules) | |
| (Ya hear me, huh?) | |
| Now my last and final brother, kinda something out the norm | |
| Some say part depressed some say part deformed | |
| Record unclean since his early teens | |
| In and out the youth house | |
| Playing all the crime scenes | |
| Early hangin' with fiends smoking all types of things | |
| He used to chase a basketball now he chasing pipe dreams | |
| From the door, shit was wrong undetected too long | |
| Bugged out when he was little | |
| Now he big that was wrong | |
| Little too early had to kick him out the house | |
| He just wanted some attention that's what dad was all about | |
| He used to bust down the door | |
| Moms cry, pops fight | |
| Even family counseling couldn't make this shit right | |
| Word on the street every body wanna do him | |
| ]From his so-called boys to all the chickens he was screwin' | |
| Anybody get the chance, who will probably unload? | |
| How much longer sis got before the last brother gone | |
| OH NO! | |
| The lesson of today | |
| You have to listen to each and every single word I have to say | |
| Because... | |
| Rah Digga...remains raw | |
| (Follow the rules) | |
| (Ya hear me, huh?) | |
| The lesson of today | |
| You have to listen to each and every single word I have to say | |
| Because... | |
| Rah Digga...remains raw | |
| (Follow the rules) | |
| (Ya hear me, huh?) | |
| Rah Digga, rah digga | |
| [Outro] | |
| Peace y'all this is the first lady of the Flipmode Squad | |
| Rah Digga (Uh-huh) | |
| I wanna take this time out to say thanks to everybody | |
| Who went out and copped my shit | |
| For those of y'all who's listening and didn't go cop your own copy | |
| I suggest you go handle your BI | |
| Now I'm about to take this time out to plug the next | |
| Flipmode Squad album (Okay) the Rulership album (Okay) | |
| I wanna plug the next Busta Ryhmes solo LP...Anarchy | |
| And I'm pluggin' the Outsidaz (Hey-dey-dey) | |
| Ya know what I mean? Bricks City all day (Night Life) | |
| Now for those of y'all who think I purposely make my voice deep | |
| Try-na sound like some extra hard core, whatever, whatever | |
| Fuck all y'all alright cause | |
| This is me, this is who I be | |
| This is my voice and you got no choice | |
| And on that note I just wanted to say | |
| Cheers to another thousand years | |
| Of shit poppin' dope emceein' and I write my own rhymes y'all | |
| Dirty Harriet! | |
| But before I forget don't touch that dial y'all | |
| Make sure y'all stay tune to check out | |
| These next couple of bonus tracks I left y'all with | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Just For You[Prelude] | |
| All my niggas y'all, Flipmode y'all | |
| Flipmode y'all, hardcore y'all, raw shit y'all | |
| Hardcore y'all, Flipmode y'all | |
| For my bitches y'all, all my bitches y'all | |
| Flipmode y'all, Flipmode y'all | |
| Hardcore y'all, raw shit y'all | |
| Hardcore y'all, Flipmode y'all | |
| [Spliff Star] | |
| Never judge a nigga like the cover of a book | |
| Fuck around and get shot back of the foot | |
| Nigga fall, stumble and look, nervous and shook | |
| Dragged in the alley and book and beat down to a pulp | |
| [Roc Marciano] | |
| Shot up my copse, Dirty Harry | |
| You stickin me is like niggas fuckin the Virgin Mary | |
| [Busta Rhymes] | |
| Shit we carry, will have you found layin down somewhere damp and muddy | |
| Split your tummy, puncture your kidney and make you piss bloody | |
| So now I leave your body to rott | |
| Where bitches sell they pussy for rock | |
| Cook they coke in steamin water boil in a pot | |
| [Baby Sham] | |
| Do you know niggas like us that clutter they watch | |
| Invest in yo' block, like it or not, involvin your pops | |
| [Rampage] | |
| You messin wit a rhyme surgeon | |
| Trade the GS for the Excursion, heads is turning | |
| Flipmode we still mergin | |
| [Rah Digga] | |
| Now we splurgin in Suburbans | |
| Dirty Harriet rock the camouflage turbans | |
| Said one for the money and two for mic check | |
| And spit a million rhymin words in 240 seconds | |
| [Lord Have Mercy] | |
| Get three to get your bitch neck, and four to even the score | |
| Graveyard shift it's best that y'all believe in the law | |
| [Roc Marciano] | |
| Flipmode like Mary Lou Retton | |
| Suede ballie, shoe steppin do the best that I can can | |
| Like Pointer Sisters, who could join the wizard? | |
| [Busta Rhymes] | |
| Talkin outta place I pick the knife up and cut the tongue | |
| Right outta your mouth and fuck your life up | |
| [Prelude Background] | |
| [Hook] | |
| This for my niggas, y'all come get wit us | |
| More raw hardcore shit just for you | |
| YOU, you, YOU, you, YOU, you, YOU | |
| This for my sistas, we know y'all miss us | |
| Flipmode got raw shit just for you | |
| YOU, you, YOU, you, YOU, you, YOU | |
| [Rampage] | |
| Before all the plaques and the source awards | |
| Y'all niggas wanna dick ride so jump aboard | |
| It's a first class ass whippin, Rampage, I ain't trippin | |
| Check all the magazine clippins | |
| [Spliff Star] | |
| Yo I pluck pigeons, get brains in Expeditions | |
| Cause friction, every chick I stick my dick in | |
| I'm not trustworthy like midnight I'm pickin | |
| Spliff keep it warm like wool caps to mittens | |
| [Lord Have Mercy] | |
| Watch for me in a new milli, kick up dust with my shoe shitty | |
| New Jack City, wicked ways move wit me | |
| Holla mine, any violent times crooks bear malice | |
| White collar crime, Columbine, weak clear classes | |
| [Roc Marciano] | |
| Burn a nigga into ashes, how I mashes ass like Cassius | |
| Finger jabs, I got it mastered, fantastic | |
| Writin half ass shit, splash kids | |
| Poke em with the bassonet in the neck, graphic | |
| [Baby Sham] | |
| Can't tell I'm from QB the way that I talk | |
| Speakin in tongue, with six blocks callin my dun | |
| Bogie collapsed lung, big and small gats we brung | |
| Bangin your drums with hot shit and more to come | |
| [Busta Rhymes] | |
| But then we manifest the truth | |
| The niggas like predictions from the Bible | |
| Betrayal for niggas is suicidal | |
| [Rah Digga] | |
| Kick swift shit niggas rock harder than Limp Bizkit | |
| Dirty Harriet floodin all through your district | |
| [Prelude Background] | |
| [Hook 2x] | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Straight Spittin’, Pt. 2This is what I'm dealin', bout to make a killin' off illin off-a hydro | |
| Put it on a rapper like they workin out Tae Bo | |
| Here to make a statement, not on your game | |
| You're gon' catch it like the pavement | |
| Cause all that blasé blah ain't hittin | |
| And so from this point on we straight spittin', yeah what! | |
| My shit is tight, if not the damn tightest | |
| My stats stay bubblin' how Pepsi and Sprite is | |
| I make a bitch jealous to the point she wanna slice this | |
| I fuck a nigga head up like the ex-girl turned dyke bitch | |
| The nicest, on one like unicyclists | |
| With pussy running deeper than stab wounds from ice-picks | |
| Now where you bout to take it? Baby I done took it | |
| Some more Digga Digga... shit man, look in here | |
| Folks are spittin rhymes unruly | |
| MC's for real might catch a hock-ptooie | |
| Cause all that blasé blah ain't hittin | |
| And so from this point on we straight spittin', yeah what! | |
| I push the range on my Pop's Buick Regal | |
| Hang wit' cats who known for making drug money legal | |
| Dislike you, spit on purpose just to spite you | |
| Heard you like the news, your boys died on motorcycles | |
| I spit clean versions for under-aged rugrats | |
| I spit for Brick City, where all my real thugs at | |
| I spit shit cause I'm in a bad mood | |
| For when my life wasn't shit but bad weed and fast food | |
| I spit spit spit and make executive decisions | |
| I spit some shit for all the scrubs and the pigeons | |
| And best believe where I'm goin' you're a goner | |
| I spit more rhymes than silicone in California | |
| I spit spit spit for all them jokers at the pool hall | |
| Carrying my daughter on my back just to fool y'all | |
| I meditate, say a prayer with my sensei | |
| I spit on MTV all the way down to your mixtape | |
| Like that, I'm the illest with the mouthpiece | |
| Crazy like South Park and hotter than South Beach | |
| Cause all that blasé blah ain't hittin' | |
| And so from this point on we straight spittin', yeah what! | |
| I spit shit and leave you scarred like a face-lift | |
| I spit for the underground, Hot 97 be the Matrix | |
| One, two, hit 'em with the basics | |
| Who gon' stay hittin'? Who be straight spittin'? | |
| I take the mic and rock it like what | |
| I make you write, get wrecked tonight, what | |
| Cause you never heard a honey spit rhymes like | |
| Said you never heard a honey spit rhymes like | |
| In a million years, and a million beers | |
| Said you never heard a honey spit rhymes like | |
| Cause all that blasé blah ain't hittin' | |
| And so from this point on we straight spittin', yeah what! | |
| When you hear a bitch rhyme, raise your lighters | |
| Spittin' on behalf of Flipmode and Outsidaz | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Harriet ThugmanRah Digga | |
| The Harriet Thugman of hip hop has returned baby | |
| C'mon! | |
| [Verse 1] | |
| I be that house nigga squatting in the lab | |
| Rhymes comin, rhymes goin like I was a dollar cab | |
| Fingerin the man tryin to tap into his spirit | |
| A misguided soul so ain't checkin for the lyrics | |
| Many different players, only one hold the ball | |
| Ghetto fabulous chick, go against the protocol | |
| With the grittiest lingo, still such a little sweetheart | |
| Book educated with a whole lotta street smarts | |
| Follow me now, as I build my fanbases | |
| Makin rappers worry like they got open cases | |
| Harriet Thugman, bout to see shit through | |
| Like a whole world of people wait for Episode Two | |
| I be the rap purist, the walking hip hop thesaurus | |
| The innovator, spawned from Libra and Taurus | |
| Do away cats with the same ol' whack | |
| Lead a nation up north where the real party at | |
| A place where we spray when our asses get older | |
| No shots in the throat, no gettin pulled over | |
| A place where graffiti ain't considered a crime | |
| And your favorirte underrated MC's is primetime | |
| A land good and fruitful, where lyrics free people | |
| Black presidents, and all the weed legal | |
| No rich or poor, we break bread and drink merry | |
| Smoke a little Mary for the real visionaries | |
| ************************************************** | |
| What We Gonna Do[Rah Digga] | |
| Megahertz | |
| [Verse 1] | |
| Another day in the life, kickin' for all thug bunnies | |
| Paper chase them self, or say man blood money | |
| Schemin' ass honey tryin' to get my shine | |
| Such a lady of grace, with such a hood frame of mind | |
| Summertime's here, Daisy Dukes are in order | |
| Swingin' with my cousin a little thick, a little shorter | |
| Five in the whip, we like to flow thick | |
| CD's in a clip, let's take a road trip | |
| Sayin' what we gonna do now, dice some trees | |
| Take a ride in the Range through the block and skeez | |
| We conceited asses, wavin' to the masses | |
| Cats doin' wheelies on they bikes fly past us | |
| Headin' to the mall or maybe to Phil's | |
| Steady cruisin' down 5th, through one chat and the grill | |
| Stores closin', down goes the sun | |
| Everybody get ready, here comes the real fun | |
| [Hook] | |
| (Ah, ooh) | |
| Yeah y'all, you know what's goin' down | |
| Jumpin' in the whip and we rollin' around town | |
| Wildin' out see ya layin' all on the ground | |
| Mre heat and there's plenty to go around | |
| Party people come shake it over here, just bounce | |
| Got chu' throwin ya hands all in the air, just bounce | |
| Everybody go shake it over there, just bounce | |
| Blowin' the spot up like we don't care (Ah, ooh) | |
| [Verse 2] | |
| Now we done huffed about an ounce up | |
| R and Gina, my cousin flirtin' with the bouncer | |
| The second round's on me, D-I-G | |
| The third is your's, come time to mop the dance floor | |
| See, we ain't payin' so debt that due | |
| Cali clubs be the shit, since they close at two | |
| I'm a socializer, y'all know my steez | |
| Whether mountin' at Spagra or grimey at Speed | |
| Ya might see me solo or with a bunch of dimes | |
| Or ridin' shotgun when I'm jottin' punch lines | |
| Or maybe with the squad, Rah, and BK style | |
| First lady profile, no more chicks allowed | |
| Sayin' what we gonna do now, blow the set | |
| Take a ride down to Philly, check grand and Moet | |
| But back to the bricks, have drinks at my bar | |
| I'm the real ghetto superstar | |
| [Hook] | |
| [Verse 3] | |
| We bring the night to a close | |
| Downed a couple shots and we threw a couple bows | |
| What we gonna do now, take it down | |
| No, after-hours on the other side of town (HO!) | |
| Come on swing with me if ya able | |
| Corner reserved and they gotta pool table | |
| The music jumpin' better than the club | |
| Champagne in the house, every DJ show love | |
| But all good things must come to end | |
| Headed back to the whip, turn parking lot pimp | |
| Just when ya thought it couldn't get no thicker | |
| Shorty gotta hurl, says she can't hold liquor | |
| Food gettin' dropped off first, please | |
| Time to roll another L, hot cakes and Mickey D's | |
| Peace, peace y'all here's one for the road | |
| Hit me off on the jack for the next episode | |
| [Hook x2] | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Curtains[Verse 1] | |
| Bust it, from the dick I'm dissin all yall punk crews | |
| Y'all wack and won't even think of punchlines I don't use | |
| And to the niggas whose LP's I kinda liked | |
| I'm fresher than that, and that new shit you tryin to write | |
| Like mita, mita, name not Rashita | |
| Battle on the streets so when I'm playin senorita | |
| Spend a few peso on some chili con queso | |
| Thinkin how I used to wax rappers back that eso | |
| Be in San Juan, on the carriage like I'm Cam'Ron | |
| Wit a nigga tryin to chew my tampon with my pants on | |
| I'm gettin money off the books like I'm Beatnuts | |
| Make em sign pre-nups, word to my C-cups | |
| Fuck with they heads like Kahlua, milk and vodka | |
| Then tell they punk ass to move on like Silkk the Shocker | |
| Word to my godfather, who bombs harder | |
| Be out to get the paper like Inga and Shawn Carter | |
| HOOK 2X: | |
| All you MC's better stand your ground | |
| Cuz when Digga come around it's curtains | |
| Curtains, curtains, curtains, curtains, curtains | |
| (curtains on all y'all, curtains on all y'all, curtains on all y'all | |
| Curtains on all y'all) | |
| When Digga come down | |
| [Verse 2] | |
| Some people say when I drink I don't act right | |
| Raisin my voice, I see some bitch and start a cat fight | |
| Or in my travels, grabbin slices from S'Barro's | |
| Eyein fake niggas like they intimate apparel | |
| 20,000 seaters, heads givin me pounds | |
| Even biggin me for shit I did for Lyricist Lounge | |
| Like, "How can I be down?", hoes I don't trust ya | |
| Playin me close so I can hook you up with Busta | |
| Fuck an entourage, I'm the bitch that roll dolo | |
| More still than mo-mo's and a 4-4 on my polo | |
| With the toaster, make ya run like Sammy Sosa | |
| Could take about 50 MC's like Tony Tocca | |
| Why you take it there? Cuz I'm fruitier than kiwi | |
| And when I freestyle you ain't gon hear it on my CD | |
| Money management, cuz I'm grown up and older now | |
| Drinkin mad low and brow, tell em how it's goin down | |
| Bricks, Bricks, cuz I was born in the Bricks | |
| Bricks, Bricks, and shit is on in the Bricks | |
| Come at me twisted if ya think you got the heart to | |
| But you better be careful what you say like Sparkle | |
| Bricks, Bricks, you get jacked in the Bricks | |
| Bricks, Bricks, and I'm the mack in the Bricks | |
| Uh, I got niggas that'll run you over backwards | |
| And bitches that'll milk you, plus give you the package | |
| HOOK 4X | |
| ************************************************** | |
| This Ain’t No Lil’ Kid Rap[Intro] | |
| Ev'rybody grown in here right?! Rated M for mature bitches | |
| I'm sayin don't get me wrong y'know, Digga love the kids but ummm....... | |
| This ain't no lil' kid rap right here, now I don't know | |
| I might have to make y'all rock a certain color wristband to bump this | |
| Yo you might even learn a new word before it's all over | |
| Try to keep up youngins! | |
| [Verse One] | |
| Yo! See! I don't study what the next folk have | |
| Take two totes and pass invoke my own craft | |
| Grown up swag whole other vocab | |
| Y'all one hit wonders blowin smoke up they ass | |
| See even after ya peak you'll never measure me | |
| Rah legendary status Rakim, Eric B | |
| Diggin in some lil' kid ass like Pleasure P | |
| Hip hop police might start come arrestin me (SEE) | |
| This that 401 cake up not Jacob | |
| Boy tie your shoelace up, get a shape up! | |
| You in the presence of, hip hop royalty | |
| Rah Anastasia, Memoirs of a Geisha | |
| Specialty turnin blood money into pay stubs | |
| Type of pen game most rappers be afraid of | |
| Some even call me the boom bap savior | |
| New pledges beware I might have to haze ya | |
| [Hook] | |
| HUH! This ain't no lil' kid rap here | |
| UH UH! This ain't no lil' kid rap here | |
| SHIEEETTTTT!!! This that gettin off from work | |
| And you wanna bop your head not tryin to do the jerk (HOW IT WORK!) | |
| They say I'm what the game been missin | |
| Tell 'em rhymes do matter but they ain't listnenin (THEY AIN'T LISTENIN) | |
| Could spend a whole lifetime fishin | |
| Won't find another better on this write rhyme mission | |
| [Verse Two] | |
| This like a case of, final destination | |
| Reincurring nightmare, Michael Freddy Jason | |
| Code of a Da Vinci, bitches like pinch me | |
| Drag 'em all to hell, twenty-twelve go against me (OW!!) | |
| I ain't even beat, just doin my numbers | |
| In and out the limelight kinda somethin like Jumper | |
| Bite front your line or two, a haiku | |
| Or the next rhyme I write might be about YOU! | |
| HUH! This ain't no lil' kid rap here | |
| UH UH! This ain't no lil' kid rap here | |
| (WHAT IT IS!) This ain't no abra cadabra, a chitter chatter | |
| Foot soldier risin quiet, not even a pitter patter | |
| (Be my guest) Nigga, gather your dad your peers or nails | |
| I be in mails chattin with actors, even a Steven Spel' | |
| I'm a rapper's rapper, make no hap hazard | |
| In a cypher, I'm Tariq, Mos Def, and Mr. Mathers (And Mr. Mathers!) | |
| [Hook] | |
| HUH! I ain't no lil' kid rapper | |
| UH UH! This ain't no lil' kid rap here | |
| DANG!!! This that Pinky And The Brain | |
| I'm the SHHH Gucci Mane in the bricks I got stained | |
| They say I'm what the game been missin | |
| Tell 'em rhymes do matter but they ain't listnenin (THEY AIN'T LISTENIN) | |
| Could spend a whole lifetime fishin | |
| Won't find another better on this write rhyme mission | |
| [Bridge] | |
| They say I'm what the game been missin (I mean, they keep callin me!) | |
| They say I'm what the game been missin (I been chillin) | |
| They say I'm what the game been missin | |
| Rappers sayin they are the best, but they ain't spittin (Bloggin me...) | |
| They say I'm what the game been missin (Textin me...) | |
| They say I'm what the game been missin | |
| They say I'm what the game been missin | |
| Real lyricist eveytime my name is mentioned | |
| [Outro] | |
| ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED!!!!!! | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Angela Davis (Single)(Lyrics in 16 bars) | |
| Intro: | |
| Leader of the resistance | |
| And it's only for the thick skin | |
| Runnin' round in chick-lands circuit with my Bricks-man | |
| When it come to spittin', got that sixth sense | |
| And I don't think they know the difference | |
| And I'm getting at my wit's end | |
| And then that real rap kicked in | |
| And they wonder how it missed them | |
| Verse 1: | |
| I'm Angela Davis, I ain't shaking my buns | |
| I'm yelling power to the people and waving 'em guns | |
| I be pumping dat fist, I ain't running some shit | |
| It ain't too many o' you broads got the stomach for dis! | |
| Y'all worry 'bout your stylist, worry 'bout your talents | |
| Build up your valence, expandin' your palettes | |
| Better find you a balance else that homegoing won't be | |
| As turned up as Howard's | |
| Verse 2: | |
| Ha! Call me Angela Davis | |
| In my all black floating through the Matrix | |
| They like, “Digga, can you save us?” | |
| When did lyricism escape us? | |
| You one of the few that kept it raw through the ages | |
| You ‘bout the culture even more than the papers | |
| And you ain't have to do that fake shit | |
| I love my black features, I ain't tryna get no facelifts | |
| Verse 3: | |
| I'm Angela Davis, no perm | |
| Momma had that straightin’ comb on slow burn | |
| They ‘on't know about ME, but they gon' learn! | |
| They gon' learn!! | |
| How I had the infallible Lauryn Hill lighting roaches on the mic | |
| Told Kim we read' enough, we not doing ladies night | |
| Told Rage we success, we gon' be Nas and Jay | |
| And the duets with Bust’, still his best to this day | |
| Chorus: | |
| I'm Angela Davis, I ain't, y’all say | |
| Couple war scar flaws from my young day | |
| Album ain’t debut number one, two or three | |
| But I showed you how to be an emcee | |
| Call me Angela Davis, I'm steppin' with pride | |
| Y'all condone the coonin’, I ain't lettin' it ride | |
| Y'all so foo-foo, even the who's who | |
| I swear to God they ‘on't make 'em like they used to | |
| I'm Angela Davis! | |
| Outro: | |
| KRS One (Sample): | |
| I freed myself but I'm coming back to free my brothers and sisters | |
| That ain't for everybody | |
| You gotta be ordained | |
| I wouldn’t put that mission on nobody | |
| ************************************************** | |
| You Got It(ft. Torae & Styles P) | |
| You got it, (soul) you got it | |
| You got, (soul) you got it | |
| You got, (soul) you got it | |
| You got, (soul) you got it, you got it. (soul) | |
| You know I got it, got it one of the .. artist | |
| I figure need it ..somebody retarded on it | |
| So I deliver on it he’s gonna spit the body on it | |
| My shit beyond it you should be warned about it, ‘bout it | |
| Is no limit when I .. is more shocking .. | |
| It ain’t my fault the shit I take in tenses | |
| Pinches and princess the b*tch flip shit | |
| You ain’t no what you face it | |
| Y’all niggas ain’t sick I’m losing my patience | |
| Y’all ... Kelly ..niggas it’s not .. I got soul like the plain ...now it’s .. | |
| Chorus: | |
| You got it, I’m inspired, you want it, you got it | |
| You want it I got it, you want it I got it | |
| You got it, I’m inspired, you want it, you got it | |
| You want it I got it, you want it I got it | |
| You know I got it got it you can’t .. need somebody .. one day .. | |
| I’m a master like .. stop it | |
| It’s in the name in fact may be where I derive it | |
| Don’t use it no ..get my deposit , don’t ask me where | |
| ‘cause I ain’t wanna gossip | |
| Me not .. the project it’s logic only rap ..dirty area got me feelin like a psychic | |
| Rapping about black president .. about my thoughts my brain speech | |
| You don’t wanna try me just take the damn ..say I’m not introspective enough | |
| True .. ‘cause I don’t make .. I make them .. mother f*cker .. | |
| Straight .. everybody Mc the still not me | |
| Chorus: | |
| You got it, I’m inspired, you want it, you got it | |
| You want it I got it, you want it I got it | |
| You got it, I’m inspired, you want it, you got it | |
| You want it I got it, you want it I got it | |
| You know I got it mike up with a lock up with the | |
| Any rapper f*ck it with the .. you’d better stop it | |
| Wait before start ..retarded you’re poppin in the air | |
| I’m not a good artist you just an .. rapper.. f*ck up nigga clap your back up | |
| Just to rap | |
| I pick my strapper ..the pants too tight this the fact .. another fact .. | |
| You know I get spit all the shit ... | |
| [Chorus:] | |
| I got soul, you know I got it | |
| You know I got it, got it | |
| I got soul, you know I got it | |
| I got soul ... | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Clap Your Hands (Bonus Track)Yo Yo Yo Yo | |
| Everybody | |
| Everybody | |
| Everybody | |
| Now tell everybody how you came up with your name | |
| What was it like try'na get up in the game | |
| Dirty Harriet's the name saying anything goes | |
| Acting like you never seen a tomboy in dress clothes | |
| Like you run around splurging, deepen the excursion | |
| TV people pissed 'cause I spit the dirty version | |
| Now tell everybody what be going through your mind | |
| Up on the stage when you bout to bust a rhyme | |
| Seein' people on my left, seein' people on my right | |
| Every now and them you come across a fucked up mic | |
| Make sure they got water stay steady with the light | |
| And I rock it so tight, make the bitches start a fight | |
| Now tell everybody 'bout niggas in your camp | |
| How we be rolling, when we work and we lam | |
| Got Rock Sham Bus Ramp Spliff me six | |
| And another set of caps double that in the Bricks | |
| Some smoke, some drink, some battle just for kicks | |
| Some'll give your ass a Duffy just for try'na take flicks | |
| Now tell everybody what be going through your brains | |
| Celeb chick up in the rap game | |
| Smoke a rogie in a store getting tipsy on a plane | |
| Take a whole lot of money | |
| Fuck around and ride the train | |
| Say my voice too maley, can't understand me | |
| No album out superbitch won a Grammy | |
| [Chorus] | |
| All the ladies in the place clap your hands | |
| All the fellas in the house clap your hands | |
| Everybody (Everybody) | |
| Everybody (Everybody) | |
| Say "Come on, bounce, come on, bounce" (Everybo-dy) | |
| Everybody (Everybody) | |
| Everybody (Everybody) | |
| Say "Come on, bounce, come on, bounce" (Everybo-dy) | |
| Now tell everybody bout niggas on your block | |
| In New Jerus where the crime don't stop | |
| See a bunch of little niggas wearing scuffed up Tim's | |
| If his stash been tapped it was probably Juanes Mins | |
| Some like to shoot dice fuck around lose friends | |
| Some'll blow your brains out get you for your rims | |
| Now tell everybody bout bitches 'round the way | |
| Who like to hustle | |
| Lose scams everyday | |
| Type of chicks hit first | |
| Even let they kids curse | |
| Get a check every month | |
| Day job as a nurse | |
| I'm bumping out the crib playing scratch card numbers | |
| So I'ma get slick | |
| Evict they own man running | |
| Now tell everybody how we dipping in the stash | |
| Or with the swerve don't be spending no cash | |
| Drinking all type of goodies | |
| Sending heads on a run | |
| Everytime I pass a L | |
| Here comes another one | |
| Now bitch got the munchies | |
| Making heads front me | |
| Dipping in the dro | |
| Niggas fuck around and jump me | |
| Now tell everybody how we keep it on lock | |
| Now where we headed when the block get hot | |
| Now we speeding on the Ave | |
| Puffing on lots of gandas | |
| Pumping Jay shit | |
| Somebody got Nastradamus | |
| Kicking one-liners | |
| Car full of rhymers | |
| Dipping down the block when the cops get behind us | |
| Now tell everybody where you heard it all first | |
| Type of shit going into Digga verse | |
| Say intellect punch lines | |
| Kill 'em all one time | |
| Voice still crazy | |
| Even when I kick my fun rhymes | |
| Digga supreme | |
| Clientele like ghost faces | |
| Niggas have to go rewrite in most cases | |
| [Chorus] | |
| All the ladies in the place clap your hands | |
| All the fellas in the house clap your hands | |
| Everybody (Everybody) | |
| Everybody (Everybody) | |
| Say "Come on, bounce, come on, bounce" (Everybo-dy) | |
| Everybody (Everybody) | |
| Everybody (Everybody) | |
| Say "Come on, bounce, come on, bounce" (Everybo-dy) | |
| Everybody (Everybody) | |
| Everybody (Everybody) | |
| Say "Come on, bounce, come on, bounce" (Everybo-dy) | |
| Everybody (Everybody) | |
| Everybody (Everybody) | |
| Say "Come on, bounce, come on, bounce" (Everybo-dy) | |
| ************************************************** | |
| What They Call Me"One two" "Rah Digga" | |
| "One two" "Rah Digga" | |
| "One two" "Rah Digga" | |
| "One two" "Rah Digga" | |
| [Rah Digga] | |
| For starters, peace to all the martyrs, and all the pioneers | |
| Cheers! | |
| Here's to a new breed of broad, yeah we like it raw! | |
| Comin to the floor, I be next to rep like Al Gore | |
| (Look) Look up in the sky, it's a bird, it's a plane | |
| Nope, honey from the Bricks, ya'll familiar wit the name | |
| I be worse than any Alien, Predator or Relic | |
| Witch from the east nigga, tell em how to spell it | |
| [Hook] 4x | |
| The R-the A-the H-the D-the I-the G-the G-the A (Come again!) | |
| [Rah Digga] | |
| I'm primetime, you a local on cable | |
| I battle you on yo' shit and then waste your label | |
| Hit you wit heat sweeter than vanilla candy | |
| Flip it type wicked like Cinderella family | |
| (For what) For tryin to step to a Rah situation | |
| Less rhymin years, less formal education | |
| Gettin less spins than a BBS | |
| Less hype in the streets and you writin even less | |
| (Now you ain't fresh) MC's goin crazy | |
| (Nah, you ain't a fresh) Ya'll could never out-blaze me | |
| Less knowhow, more ho now | |
| Stay up out of grown folks biz 'fore I show you what broke is | |
| Yappin all day bout who crew the best | |
| Take a few deep breaths, puff the buddha cess | |
| Continue to bless any track that come this way | |
| Nine nigga nine nigga, I'm that itchbe | |
| Chorus 4x | |
| "Niggas" "Do you think" [Rah Digga] | |
| "Flipmode" [Busta Rhymes] | |
| "Digga on the track" [Rah] | |
| "Words worth a million" [Jay-Z] | |
| "Represent" [Biggie] "Yo" [Prodigy] | |
| "Strike-strike hard" [Canibus] | |
| [Rah Digga] | |
| Peace to my peeps, from Jerz to Manhattan | |
| Bitches on the threeway chit-chattin in pig Latin | |
| Heads is vexed now, all the 'dro gone | |
| Waitin and debatin for some niggas to roll on | |
| (Come on) The kind of heads take the ghetto approach | |
| Hard foul the opposition or strangle the coach | |
| I be stashin marijuanna in my Dolce & Gabana | |
| Dead em like gamma, if they don't have no manners | |
| Call the dopest MC my little junior | |
| Playin the game and be a coach like Tuna | |
| Mad, what I say go, B-girl original | |
| Boy Wonder, Chocolate latte (Hooo!) | |
| What the chicks say, hoes might oppose | |
| But most chicks happy I can rock without takin off my clothes | |
| And all the niggas say "Damn, this bitch is tight | |
| Ain't heard a broad rip like that since MC Lyte" (Come on) | |
| Chorus 8x | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Handle Your B.I.[Chorus] | |
| I got what you want | |
| I got what you need | |
| Rep chicks on the strip | |
| Rep thugs on the street | |
| I got what you want | |
| I got what you need | |
| Rep chicks on the strip | |
| Rep thugs on the street | |
| [Verse 1] | |
| Digga Digga | |
| First name Rashia | |
| Rock the mic crazy | |
| Wouldn't wanna be ya | |
| Had a nice wing since my early teens | |
| Now I'm grown rocking microphones | |
| Sin! Sin! | |
| Said I learned new ways | |
| Gotta thank God for my chance to blaze | |
| Next album gonna see a fat healthy raise | |
| And he make mistakes | |
| Say That's The Brakes (That's The Brakes) | |
| True | |
| Hit 'em with the (Wooo!) | |
| Fine young woman now | |
| Long time coming now (Coming now) | |
| Thank the fans for they love and affection | |
| Heard me with the Fugees | |
| Still ain't making a connection | |
| Fulfill my destiny wasn't nothing y'all could tell me | |
| Ripping down the stage with a baby in my belly | |
| Adding up to math | |
| Applying everything I learned | |
| While a dummy kept going on tour and get burned | |
| See | |
| [Chorus] | |
| I got what you want | |
| I got what you need | |
| Rep chicks on the strength | |
| Rep thugs on the street | |
| East Coast y'all | |
| Handle your B.I | |
| West Coast y'all | |
| Handle your B.I | |
| Dirty South y'all | |
| Handle B.I | |
| Up top y'all | |
| Handle your B.I | |
| [Verse 2] | |
| Now make way for a sister little feisty foul mouth | |
| Say what's that all about (bout bout) | |
| It's about one two three four five for the rating | |
| A penny for the hating | |
| Y'all know my ways | |
| Staying up in the game of this MC craze | |
| Kind of wonder what if I'd of dropped back in the days | |
| Say | |
| Rhymes I toss it | |
| Taking no losses | |
| Let management tell you who your new boss is | |
| People stay repping up on the West Coast | |
| Word is bond to my flow | |
| Y'all got the best 'dro | |
| Ain't seen nothing like it | |
| Ain't bring nothing like it | |
| If my rhymes strike a nerve | |
| Ain't mean nothing by it | |
| Dirty Harriet! | |
| And I be stepping to the left | |
| You bust for Diablo | |
| I still bust for UCEF | |
| Try'na see me on the MC tip | |
| Now child please | |
| Vocab for years | |
| And freak enough stylees | |
| Swing! | |
| Rep the thing for my Hip-Hop brothers | |
| Take care of them before I take care of others | |
| Juice Crew, Rakim, Prince | |
| Big influence | |
| You saying I'm the dopest | |
| But I already knew this | |
| Say one check two check | |
| Everywhere check check | |
| Check for me | |
| We haven't ever even met yet | |
| Gotta thank God | |
| I said I gotta thank God I could look this fly and rock it this hard | |
| [Chorus] | |
| I got what you want | |
| I got what you need | |
| Rep chicks on the strength | |
| Rep thugs on the street | |
| East Coast y'all | |
| Handle your B.I | |
| West Coast y'all | |
| Handle your B.I | |
| Dirty South y'all | |
| Handle B.I | |
| Up top y'all | |
| Handle your B.I | |
| I got what you want | |
| I got what you need | |
| Rep chicks on the strength | |
| Rep thugs on the street | |
| East Coast y'all | |
| Handle your B.I | |
| West Coast y'all | |
| Handle your B.I | |
| Dirty South y'all | |
| Handle B.I | |
| Up top y'all | |
| Handle your B.I | |
| ************************************************** | |
| What’s Up Wit’ ThatHa, once again | |
| First and only female representin, yeah | |
| Rah Digga comin through you know what I'm sayin | |
| Uhh, uhh, uhh, yeah like what, what | |
| Now I'ma tell it like it ain't never been told | |
| With the rhyme mechanism that boost me ten-fold | |
| Spend dough in pubs, sayin no to scrubs | |
| With the crisp deep voice I lace with overdubs | |
| Now wassup, if by some haphazard | |
| You see me in Rolling Stone or down the rapmaster | |
| Up in the slot where you used to rock | |
| Your shit suddenly drop and like Wall Street stop | |
| Now, the part that thrill me, what's up with that | |
| Cats that didn't wanna feel me, yo, what's up with that | |
| Ha ha ha ha that's fine, that's funny | |
| Now they ass catching bricks like the fuckin crash dummies | |
| I'm makin hits like the oldies, what's up wit that | |
| Cats be frontin like they know me, yo, what's up wit that | |
| You gon say what's up and I'ma say nothin strangers | |
| My interest strictly record sales and tunnel bangers | |
| Cuz that's how shit be, what's up wit that | |
| The Rah D I G, yo what's up wit that | |
| I'm writin rhymes lovely, what's up wit that | |
| And how I rep Jersey, yo what's up wit that | |
| I wreck shop crazy, what's up wit that | |
| And radio plays me, yo | |
| You gon say what's up and I'ma say nothin strangers | |
| My interest strictly record sales and tunnel bangers | |
| Verse dentin, worse than armageddon | |
| Worse than them kids runnin around bomb settin | |
| Mind threatenin, like a couple hits of mescaline | |
| Comin up with documents to cover the embezzlin | |
| Educated, rhymes pre-meditated | |
| Over niggas heads while they out percolatin | |
| Spot datin, block money I could take in | |
| Drops on the box like I was ovulatin | |
| Now, for all the cats wildin, what's up wit that | |
| You best better throw your towel in, yo, what's up wit that | |
| Cuz the real rap bitch that step foot on the scene | |
| Will put a rapper on his ass like warm milk and Ovaltine | |
| Yeah, yeah, now what you done lately, what's up wit that | |
| And now you wanna hate me, yo what's up wit that | |
| Sweetest person, and I'm still the grimy queen | |
| Wit a half ounce of goodie stashed in my Tommy Jeans | |
| Cuz that's how shit be, what's up wit that | |
| The Rah D I G, yo what's up wit that | |
| I'm writin rhymes lovely, what's up wit that | |
| And how I rep Jersey, what's up wit that | |
| I wreck shop crazy, what's up wit that | |
| And radio plays me, yo what's up wit that | |
| Sweetest person, and I'm still the grimy queen | |
| Wit a half ounce of goodie stashed in my Tommy Jeans | |
| In '99 baby hold your stuff | |
| I be that seventh sign wit no more souls in the guff | |
| Focus your attention as I make my mark | |
| Cuz I get the party jumpin like your hoopty won't start | |
| Got a bad attitude and a worse disposition | |
| Corny niggas get the boot, for endangerin the mission | |
| Believe all you rap specimens, need to proofread my rap reference | |
| 'Fore you're left hangin from your vest | |
| Definitely, gettin severance pay | |
| While my joint moves 20,000 units every day | |
| Official, ever since an itty bitty youngun | |
| Before the first kiss when I didn't put my tongue in | |
| Now, I'm kickin all type of lingo, what's up wit that | |
| I make the shit into a single, ha, what's up wit that | |
| You gon say what's up and I'ma say nothin papi | |
| Go cop my shit, because you can't get a copy | |
| Cuz that's how shit be, what's up wit that | |
| The Rah D I G, yo what's up wit that | |
| I'm writin rhymes lovely, what's up wit that | |
| And how I rep Jersey, yo what's up wit that | |
| I wreck shop crazy, what's up wit that | |
| And radio plays me, yo what's up wit that | |
| You gon say what's up and I'ma say nothin papi | |
| Go cop my shit, because you can't get a copy | |
| Cuz that's how shit be, what's up wit that | |
| The Rah D I G, yo what's up wit that | |
| I'm writin rhymes lovely, what's up wit that | |
| And how I rep Jersey, yo what's up wit that | |
| I wreck shop crazy, what's up wit that | |
| And radio plays me, yo what's up wit that | |
| You gon say what's up and I'ma say nothin chico | |
| I hold shit down for all my rhyme writin people | |
| Cuz that's how shit be, the Rah D I G | |
| I'm writin rhymes lovely, and how I rep Jersey | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Tight [Remix]Intro: | |
| Ah damn, Digga done gone and did a remix | |
| What you gonna do now partner? | |
| (laughs) | |
| (Monch) | |
| Yes it the selectable messages, hard | |
| Mammary glands, necklaces, breasts'es, large | |
| Camrys, Lands, Lexuses | |
| Executive suits, forget about where the exit is | |
| Consecutive beats, narrated without the negative | |
| There's no need for packin', cause we can make it, happen | |
| We're gone quick, tell a friend "ohhh shit" | |
| Intelligent rap fiend with relevant rhyme flow | |
| Benevolent, from beneath the sediment | |
| With no speech impediment | |
| Impeach the President? | |
| I don't know, I'm hesitant | |
| When I step through, you know I rep the medicine | |
| Perfect poetry, peddling word flows, you meddling | |
| In my business? That's when I got to jettison | |
| The nigga with the big balls | |
| Girls wanna maul me | |
| Drop jewels like you was jewellers with cerebral palsy | |
| My road dogs explode on, Flipmode flip men | |
| Spit in a nigga water like, Ms. Jane Pittman | |
| (Rah Digga) | |
| Now, who we be writing rhymes all night? | |
| (Monch) | |
| Pharoahe Moch in the house and my plans is tight! | |
| (Rah Digga) | |
| Now, who we got next on the mic? | |
| Rah Digga in the house and my plans is tight! | |
| (Rah Digga) | |
| A black queen | |
| You best believe I stack cream for the nine-niggy-nine | |
| Everytime Diggy rhyme | |
| Like a thousand motherfuckers going "yes yes y'all" | |
| Make em scramble like a stabbing up in the mess hall | |
| Tighter than pumps on fat ladies | |
| Flows like the liquid in the IVs stuck in crack babies | |
| Preproduction, stay booming in my tenant | |
| On your radio tighter than the sweats on Richard Simmons | |
| Rah-D-I, going for dolo like I'm Coko | |
| One the lo-lo, spending my show dough in Soho | |
| Tight, lyrical pro yo, verbal style linguist | |
| Like Q or the Genius, speak a little broken english | |
| Get Backstreet money, tax free money | |
| Clak-clak any fool try to jack me money | |
| Lick proper, ain't no other chick hotter | |
| Voice alone scare your ass to death like Stigmata | |
| (Rah Digga) | |
| Now, who be writing rhymes all night? | |
| Rah Digga in the house and my plans is tight! | |
| Who we got next on the mic? | |
| (Lord Have Mercy) | |
| Lord Have in the house and my plans is tight! | |
| (Lord Have Mercy) | |
| King of my castle | |
| Shanghai, swinging my lasso | |
| In each hood | |
| And stay unforgiving, like Eastwood | |
| Quick shooter, long clip, Ruger | |
| Villain in trench coats | |
| Walk the evil that men spoke | |
| Creep on your kin-folk | |
| Invent flows that sweep the streets often | |
| Stone cold like Steve Austin indeed, also | |
| The all city, the raw, gritty | |
| Landlord banned from TV in large cities | |
| Nigga slay a squad | |
| Pray to God I'm just Rated R | |
| When I pickle hearts in labelled jars | |
| Spit fatal bars | |
| Tally-ho, tally-ho, I murder a cameo | |
| Rapid fire like a calico, scatter foes | |
| Trapped and dying, Federale home, battle zones | |
| Shined in alleys, chromed, East Coast to Cali homes | |
| Laying down 'fore them federals get me | |
| Got hits while you catch bricks like I'm Reginald Deny | |
| (Rah Digga) | |
| Now, who be writing rhymes all night? | |
| Rah Digga in the house and my plans is tight! | |
| Peace to the ones that don't bite! | |
| Lord Have in the house and the plans is tight! | |
| Now, who be writing rhymes all night? | |
| Pharoahe Moch in the house and the plans is tight! | |
| Peace to the ones that don't bite! | |
| Flipmode in the house in the plans is tight! | |
| (Outro) | |
| That's right ya'll, Tight Remix. Featuring Ph-ph-ph-ph-pharoahe | |
| M-m-m-m-monch, Lord Have Mercy, and the first and only female of the Flipmode | |
| Squad, Rah Digga | |
| Every time I learn the words to a song, somebody make a remix... | |
| What is going on with all these remixes? | |
| More money, more money, more money... | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Who Gonna Check Me BooHey Boo, who gonna check me | |
| Ya thought yo all had the … did you? | |
| Yeah, oh, study fortunate throttle to … so I got the Louie machina so I could smuggle the bottle | |
| About the war, brick city, see the streets respecter | |
| Police on electro, I keeps the extra, the Gucci fleece sweaters, all our reeks … | |
| The same ...bitch now I speak better | |
| More than lace and tracks I … dust it | |
| Nothing less than crack we riding us touch it | |
| Our box cut it, watch the blocks bust it | |
| I got them shit bubbling like shots in your bottom | |
| Little more than a problem, Nostradamo | |
| Never on schedule always good timing | |
| I'm right back on it, I'm right back on it | |
| Ain't even gotta try just suck my ball with | |
| The blink of an eye now the streets are zone us | |
| And do the damn thang till I'm open in shortness, come on | |
| Who's gonna check me boo, not you | |
| Who's gonna check me boo, not you | |
| Who's gonna check me boo, not you | |
| Who's gonna check me boo, not you | |
| Got a whole lot of flack and … you | |
| People still, digga digga, now what's left to prove | |
| Spitting properly, ever since ...and foxy, copy, tip and socky | |
| Shrimp and … I turn the hippie when I hit that sticky | |
| Worse than cake, I transform like whip whinkley | |
| All these chicks geeks and less than 6 weeks | |
| I shot all down like tell the … bitch, shut up bitch | |
| Dipping off chain poses, switch seats, back on the stage, might let that bitch speak | |
| Singin all of their hook like swiss beats, freeze | |
| Who's gonna check me boo, not you | |
| Who's gonna check me boo, not you | |
| Who's gonna check me boo, not you | |
| Who's gonna check me boo, not you | |
| If I was you I wouldn't try no papers, never know what's next your name come up on that paper | |
| Get assassinated, lyrically lacerated, to men this is exasperating | |
| Got a classic waiting, let's go, trimming jay to vay … follow way to the ga | |
| Drive me in the streets watch ...to a … | |
| Thing I'm gonna scorch … you … is replay | |
| Go DJ, and I'ma spit it all, I bring the pain you can't … windows in a raw | |
| An old friend's a … real suspect ya, I ain't sharing no ...I might just … this | |
| Did you expect it to get this … I even spit backwards like the bitch dyslexic | |
| Me address … next hip hop's back … | |
| Last chick try to flex that ass got checked, let's go | |
| Who's gonna check me boo, not you | |
| Who's gonna check me boo, not you | |
| Who's gonna check me boo, not you | |
| Who's gonna check me boo | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Tell Me Why[Rah Digga] | |
| Rah Digga, P!nk | |
| Let's go, ladies | |
| Do it | |
| You don't want it baby (tell me why, tell, tell me why) | |
| You don't want it baby (tell me why, tell, tell me why) | |
| You don't want it baby (tell me why, tell, tell me why) | |
| Baby, baby, (tell, tell me why, tell, tell me why) | |
| You don't want it baby (tell me why, tell, tell me why) | |
| You don't want it baby (tell me why, tell, tell me why) | |
| You don't want it baby (tell me why, tell, tell me why) | |
| Baby, baby, (tell, tell me why, tell, tell me why) | |
| [Verse 1 - Rah Digga] | |
| Put it on, what went wrong, something's happening to my brain | |
| Something strange, can't explain since I got up in this game | |
| Think I'm bugging, call me rugged, this before I had my name | |
| People fussing, brand new cousins, 'nough to drive a bitch insane | |
| Tell me why do I sacrifice my family and my friends | |
| Thought the struggle would be over, finding out it just begins | |
| Call me crazy, leave my baby, and be traveling on my way | |
| Round the clock, making stops to make somebody else's day | |
| [Hook - P!nk] | |
| I found myself stressing over ignorant things | |
| I had to realize all the hate that negativity brings | |
| It's like wherever the day takes me now | |
| Can't be that perfect girl, I don't even know how | |
| [Verse 2 - Rah Digga] | |
| Put it on, what went wrong, something's happening around the way | |
| Watching roots and hip hop culture breaking down from day to day | |
| Tell me why, where's the love, all the turbulence and crime | |
| Tryin' to teach my cousins, Frankly, cause we running out of time | |
| The government done found themselves the perfect remedy | |
| Three strikes, give them life, and give the rest immunity | |
| Wanna cry, tell me why, is all these babies in the street | |
| Little girls is barely teens, and they done had more sex than me | |
| [Hook - P!nk] | |
| I found myself stressing over ignorant things | |
| I had to realize all the hate that negativity brings | |
| It's like wherever the day takes me now | |
| Can't be that perfect girl, I don't even know how | |
| [Verse 3 - Rah Digga] | |
| Now now now | |
| Don't even know how I'm supposed to be | |
| Motivated by the love of those close to me | |
| While I'm steady on the west, trying to make my ends | |
| Turning friends to enemies, and enemies to friends | |
| Every lesson I've learned, try my best just to show you | |
| Acting like I owe you and I don't even know you | |
| Before it get better, I see it getting worse | |
| So before the struggle do me | |
| Holla do me first | |
| [Bridge - P!nk] | |
| Look, thank you LaFace, and I feel so out of place | |
| It's like constant confusion, and I always feel like I'm losing | |
| Something telling me to be strong, something's telling me to go on | |
| Sayin' P!nk, come now let's do this song | |
| Rah Dig', and it's going on | |
| [Hook - P!nk] | |
| I found myself stressing over ignorant things | |
| I had to realize all the hate that negativity brings | |
| It's like wherever the day takes me now | |
| Can't be that perfect girl, I don't even know how | |
| [Rah Digga] (x2) | |
| You don't want it baby (tell me why, tell, tell me why) | |
| You don't want it baby (tell me why, tell, tell me why) | |
| You don't want it baby (tell me why, tell, tell me why) | |
| Baby, baby, (tell, tell me why, tell, tell me why) | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Showdown[Verse 1] | |
| Knock, knock, who dat, sister from the hilltop | |
| Wicked, wicked flows, make a nigga grill drop | |
| Caramel complexion, Feldsburg section | |
| Ready for whatever 'case I'm dealin with some next shit | |
| Rhymin type scenario, niggas only fell | |
| Stay dipped with Nike Airs, Oakleys, and pony tails | |
| Fuckin up some pizza, overcharge my Visa | |
| Million dollar videos, crushin with my tiza | |
| Tell them motherfuckers, I'm tight like Ebeneezer | |
| Scrooge, still look good without ruge | |
| My lipstick, lil misfit, quick to dish shit | |
| Little bit conceited, whole lot consistent | |
| Money, money, money, how we blaze | |
| Splittin shit three ways with me, Zee and Pace | |
| Got bitchasses that think I sound like a dude | |
| Flip rhymes so quick you might think I'm test tube | |
| HOOK: | |
| In the showdown, how it go down | |
| Get the flow down, watch it go down | |
| How it go down, in the showdown | |
| Gettin closed down, watch em go down | |
| In the showdown, how it go down | |
| Put your dough down, watch it go down | |
| [Verse 2] | |
| I'm representin bitches 'round the way | |
| We runnin up his box and we ain't gon have to pay | |
| I'm runnin with my mens, I rock a pair of Timbs | |
| With rhymin on the brain like scarves and hairpins | |
| I'm tryin to see a black Benz with my back end | |
| House on the hill with my publishin deal | |
| Shows pay the bills, make it all connect | |
| And do some corporate type shit with my royalty check | |
| Now what comes next, grab myself a Bex | |
| After sex, I tune in to Funkmaster Flex | |
| Then I pop up at Stretch, freestyle to death | |
| And give a shout out to my mens like I was D-M-X | |
| Spit rock type, hot like, jazz or funk now | |
| Throw a spoken word or we turn into a hoedown | |
| Tell me now cuz that's how I ball | |
| 'Bout a hundred rhymin niggas up in the U-Haul | |
| HOOK | |
| [Verse 3] | |
| Peace to all my peoples in mission | |
| Peace to peoples with they license suspended | |
| Peace goes out to all my hoodrat chicks | |
| Who ain't tryin to hear shit but nicks and fat dicks | |
| What, I rock hoods and I be good like Foxy | |
| Then hit the sushi bars eatin akros with Saki | |
| I'm smokin damn good and chokey black | |
| Niggas know the pokey fat, now all my ex-boyfriends want me back | |
| I rip shows, and sip Tequila Rose | |
| And always be around like I was afros | |
| Y'all motherfuckers crazy, can never outblaze me | |
| Risin to the top cuz that's how momma raised me | |
| Now that the message is embedded | |
| The R-A, D-I, G-G, A gon set it | |
| Hold up baby cuz that's when you lost | |
| Whole prop is our respect don't get caught up in the cross | |
| HOOK | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Album Intro[Intro: Rah Digga] | |
| Whoo, Yes | |
| Ladies and gentlemen, (D-I) | |
| Yall know my name, (Dirty Harriet) | |
| Digga Digga, (How serious) | |
| I'd like (D-I) to shout out my manager Ace Lentz, (This album is) | |
| Let's do this, Megahertz, (2000, D-I) | |
| Flipmode Squad, Busta Rhymes | |
| Outsidaz reppin the bricks | |
| Nobody on the track. (D-I) | |
| [Rah Digga] | |
| Yo, When I step in the booth, Flip ugly and I loose all couth | |
| Dig-ga be-have | |
| Maintained the streets, Next journey still with the same peeps | |
| Dig-ga be brave | |
| Ima do this son, Dirty Harriet number one, (Come on) | |
| Dig-ga we straight | |
| Got somethin for you and you and you, Man what's my name yo, (D-I) G-G-A | |
| As we start round two, Next rhyme might be about you | |
| Hope you never see the light, Like Juwanna Man 2 | |
| I'm still makin sure, All my rhymes is tight | |
| Tell you that from day one like they tell us God is white | |
| Imperial chick from Brick City, Doin a buck fifty | |
| Rollin around in trucks strictly | |
| When it's time to break fools, My rhyme styles dagger | |
| Tare you down worse then the O'Riley factor | |
| Do it for my sake, I dare yall to try me | |
| Burn yall up the ass like cancer in the prostate | |
| Best in the tri-state, Perhaps in the country | |
| Headline with no album, That's how bad niggas want me | |
| Might be a little raw, For the average broad | |
| Don't worry baby girl, I got somethin for yall as well | |
| Do tell, Cause everything's a story | |
| It's your favorite little grimey, But my name ain't NORE | |
| [Ghostface Killah] | |
| It wasn't the way she rapped, It was a talent | |
| God gave it a she brought it back | |
| Tell Bust I said peace | |
| Flipmode flip dough, Zip codes, Go back home on skid row | |
| Niggas don't like Tone | |
| Or you digga, Handle they bitch and I'll get the nigga | |
| Develop that into a real picture, Click | |
| Niggas get that shit, I don't play that shit | |
| I concentrate on hits, Not that BET | |
| Nigga bodies or an ill album, Or a song for them ill mommies | |
| I swear I will dot theses niggas the fuck out | |
| Get to cussin and cuttin, These corny cocksuckers better stop frontin | |
| Word, Blow yall niggas for damn near nothin | |
| We-Got, Yo let them things pop, We got the mean darts | |
| Cheese-Blocks, We the welfare babies with the dark brown birth marks | |
| Don't get your assed up, Fuck that | |
| Ghost and Rah Digga, Taxin niggas, We ain't cuttin back so | |
| Please-Stop, Theodore and Flipmode will invade your whole spot | |
| ************************************************** | |
| So Cool(That cool shit) | |
| Call me conductor, I lead the way for ya | |
| Underground vibe, status self-employed | |
| R-A-H aka Harriet Thugman | |
| Carry out the legacy with seed and husband | |
| Now off with the head thangy | |
| Watch flip to a genie | |
| And I be a Mac like Beanie | |
| Out the bottle, I turn thug super model | |
| With rhymes that'll make ya have to settle for Movado | |
| The dirtiest getting all the way live | |
| Steady tappin' my shit, try-na eat while I drive | |
| Speeding to a function to play the little actress | |
| Three hours late and don't even know the address | |
| Madness with the ill sexy flow | |
| And the label spendin' g's not tryin' to let me go | |
| Rockin' on the stage after me, YOU FOOL! | |
| Cause I am so cool | |
| [Carl Thomas](Rah Digga) | |
| Cause she's so cool, yeah oh | |
| Money baby can't you see | |
| (Can't you see, can't you see) | |
| She's so cool | |
| And you can't be as fly as she | |
| (Never be as fly as me) | |
| [Rah Digga] | |
| I aim high beat date in December | |
| A million motherfuckers whose face I don't remember | |
| Next to fall with the b-girl ball | |
| Tight gear little cousins | |
| The store from the mall | |
| Rockin' hardcore to some R&B shit | |
| Kickin' rhymes for the round-the-way heads | |
| That I'm at peace with | |
| Love the ice rock silver as a preference | |
| Taking writer's credit so offer a suggestion | |
| So bust dem heads who ain't real wit it | |
| Who don't want shit in life and can't deal with it | |
| I see you | |
| Frontin' like you on my side | |
| Switch sides thanks for the ride bitch | |
| See me on the cover, (Say what?) strike a pose | |
| Just know after that I'm making off with the clothes | |
| Underground rule for real, so what's the haps? | |
| Take it back like kids who fight in playing caps | |
| Or Jacks 'N' Ball, freestyle off the wall | |
| Tell em don't forget the stones when they make the Digga dome | |
| Do away with styling you ain't even found yet | |
| Blow the mic out and ain't nothing but a sound check | |
| Writing rhymes like you wish you could | |
| Tight breaking em down on behalf of sisterhood | |
| Spittin' every time use my looks as a tool | |
| Cause I am so cool | |
| [Carl Thomas](Rah Digga) | |
| Cause she's so cool | |
| Money baby can't you see | |
| (Can't you see, can't you see) | |
| She's so cool | |
| And you can't be as fly as she | |
| (Never be as fly as me) | |
| Cool | |
| Money baby can't you see | |
| (Can't you see, can't you see) | |
| She's so cool | |
| And you can't be as fly as she | |
| (Never be as fly as me) | |
| She's so, so | |
| You can't be as fly as she, oh | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Storm Comin’[Hook] | |
| It’s a storm comin’, it’s a, it’s a storm comin’ | |
| It’s a storm comin’ | |
| It’s a, it’s a storm comin’ | |
| What you gon’ do, who can you trust? | |
| When you feel the heat comin’, are you ready to bust? | |
| If we have to, if we have to, feel that heat comin’ | |
| If we have to, if we have to, feel that heat comin’ | |
| If we have to | |
| [Verse 1] | |
| Dear son, hope you hearing every word in my chronicle | |
| Hope it’s finding you in good health, living honorable | |
| Caught a glimpse of the future and it don’t look bright | |
| You gon be in for one hell of a plight | |
| It’s a war going on outside, no art is safe from | |
| They let you take some, unlike that mason | |
| OG, my straight spit from day one | |
| They tell you switch it up, just keep the faith son | |
| Don’t let em digitize you, epitomize you | |
| He’s just another nigga with a mic, telling lies to | |
| Unsuspecting fans, be a self-respected man | |
| Remember mommy’s tales of PE and ex clan, bam | |
| Fast forward to the present day debacle | |
| They bring you underground when you want to preach the gospel | |
| That 13th apostle, that wasn’t on the roster | |
| Found out that I was a female, and that they couldn’t stop her | |
| Your mama was a soldier, heavy burden on my shoulders | |
| Still be spitting, spitting, spitting if I had to do it over | |
| They forever tried to terminate me | |
| Underrate me, believed they should date me, even tried to percolate me | |
| Now here comes the safety, but none of them could tackle | |
| Occasional snaffle, I wave that magic lasso | |
| Whipping up them bars, niggas craved it like the castle | |
| Feeling the heat coming, start busting if you have to | |
| [Hook] | |
| [Verse 2] | |
| I don’t know where to begin, how to tell you how to win | |
| But I do know it’s gon come down to those rhymes in the end | |
| Some pursue other ventures, some lost they step | |
| We done came a long way from the days of salt and pep | |
| They told me shake sells, I took the red pill | |
| I chose to stay street, let culture prevail | |
| I agreed to the weave, [?] the ponytail | |
| Girls nipping and tucking, I said what the hell | |
| I ain’t sign up for that, but to each their own | |
| Said it’s easier to market, easier to clone | |
| Easier to brainwash little kids at home | |
| Easy for them machines to set the tone | |
| Now some say it’s high class, some say it’s hoochie | |
| All up in the mags, free stuff in the two piece | |
| First comes the nip slip, then comes the new leaks | |
| Then comes the sex tape, if I’m lying sue me | |
| I ain’t need nothing but a pen and some loose leaf | |
| Speakers on blast, whipping round in that two seat | |
| Jumping out, bam, show time, just me and the band | |
| Mic checking in my B girl’s stance | |
| Fuck cocaine, fame is a hell of a drug | |
| How far you gon go tryna get that buzz | |
| How many you gon fuck tryna get that plug | |
| In the future are you still gonna get that love? | |
| Ladies! | |
| [Hook] | |
| [Outro – Chuck D] | |
| Thank you Rah Digga | |
| No more silence or violence, just guidance | |
| And let a mother be heard with that true word | |
| No matter how much the powers that be be disturbed | |
| And if it is what it is | |
| Let us define our kids | |
| Make strong daughters, in the ending story of our sons | |
| This from your brother, Chuck D | |
| One | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Imperial [Remix](feat. Busta Rhymes) | |
| Chorus: Rah Digga | |
| Flipmode the Imperial | |
| You know you love it when you hear us on the radio | |
| Go cop the joint and play the shit up in your stereo | |
| Or in the streets up in your Jeeps or in the disco | |
| And if you want the fly shit, my nigga here we go | |
| You know it's Digga lookin pretty in the video | |
| With Bus-a-Bus up in the cut but you don't hear me though | |
| Just when you think we done we hit y'all we got plenty mo' | |
| Blow! | |
| (Rah Digga) | |
| It be's the little mama, lip gloss and eyeliner | |
| The only shit poppin like White Castle or the Donna | |
| Rah Digga make the joints that the DJs blast | |
| Ghetto diva in the Source with the 3 page ad | |
| Watch as the hood rat messiah climb swiftly | |
| Labels scarred to death to let their artist bomb with me | |
| Cause you can send your thuggest MC and watch me son 'em | |
| The ruggedest bitch, don't even rhyme about gunnin | |
| Got joints circulating like them old karate flicks | |
| Buncha Rah Digga shirts on some big body chicks | |
| Throw my shit in your hoopty or your luxury trucks | |
| And make the quickest turn around like 'dro for 20 bucks | |
| And I'll still be the greatest if this rap shit fail me | |
| Back to jackin bootleg flicks from out the deli | |
| Livin off the interest | |
| Sippin on Tequila with my logo on the side of fuckin 18 wheelers | |
| Chorus | |
| (Busta Rhymes) | |
| Ay yo yo yo | |
| Raze and dazzle niggas like ya'll | |
| Spread niggas like you and dismantle niggas like y'all | |
| I got the thing that'll majorly handle niggas like y'all | |
| Fight y'all, bust a semi and cancel niggas like y'all | |
| I know some joke niggas who love to hassle niggas like y'all | |
| Talk, and fix and simply dance on niggas like y'all | |
| Trample niggas like y'all | |
| Make examples outta niggas like y'all | |
| Grit their teeth and cock the hammer up inside the dance hall | |
| Thugs, here's another sample for niggas like ya'll | |
| Or for the ones who pass and light a roman candle for niggas like y'all | |
| Fight for niggas like y'all | |
| Grad the mic from motherfuckers like y'all | |
| Blow the spot in the night for all my niggas like y'all | |
| My get high niggas, I blaze for niggas like y'all | |
| Stink the spot up with 'dro now spray the fuckin Lysol | |
| You know we be the ultimate | |
| We fuckin with some other shit | |
| And when we hit y'all | |
| Yes, we sit and watch ya'll niggas ride the dick | |
| Chorus | |
| (Busta Rhymes) | |
| A'yo, clap and slap up a nigga for talkin lotsa wack shit | |
| While I roll around with the Harriet Thugman of this rap shit | |
| (Rah Digga) | |
| Black chick, with intellect, who wanna match wits? | |
| Write my own rhymes so can't no nigga tell me jack shit | |
| (Busta Rhymes) | |
| Master shit, Flipmode exclusive across the map and shit | |
| Presenting the first lady of the squad so give me dap and shit | |
| (Rah Digga) | |
| Sayin' peace when you see me, play the role like Ally Sheedy | |
| And I ain't gon' join ya cipher if the weed's too seedy | |
| (Busta Rhymes) | |
| Yo, make sure you see what we doing now, put on your binoculars | |
| Then I gas ya like a paid latino down at Banco Popular | |
| (Rah Digga) | |
| Rah Digga underground and gon' always blow the spot for ya | |
| Longest runnin shit since the phantom of the opera | |
| (Busta Rhymes) | |
| Bus-a-Bus, going down as one of the greatest spoken philosophers | |
| Holding a 12-shot semi with a little red dot for ya | |
| (Rah Digga) | |
| First and only female unmatched by anyone | |
| Rip it from old school to the next millenium | |
| Chorus | |
| ************************************************** | |
| ClassicAha, yeah, I know it's only one me* | |
| Many of try | |
| If I want to be the queen of the street | |
| I'm just me, yeah | |
| Classic, got that classic | |
| I only forgot to try | |
| ... pen | |
| And write the only thought of mine | |
| ... just trying to figure it out | |
| It's so easy | |
| Classic, I'm so nut to average | |
| Hook for... from the... | |
| Top gun not one that I'm see... I | |
| GGA only them see GI | |
| Cropped in photoshop, they're not in my telephone | |
| Who want to challenge, I'm on the way to,.. | |
| I'm not breath ain't,.. | |
| Flow low stop like,.. | |
| I'm actually, how should I put it | |
| Let it... it | |
| It'a a village, a a... or,.. | |
| No tell... causious so tell,.. | |
| Since I took some time apart | |
| When the last time you asked why | |
| They got me flow it in, pussy... all in it | |
| Follow in the,.. survive... | |
| ... dirty heavy, pump it that classic | |
| [Chorus:] | |
| Classic, classic | |
| Open that classic | |
| Classic, all day classic | |
| I'm dig it, classic | |
| My dues told to... | |
| Shut, shut them down | |
| No flow... | |
| Might blow the... | |
| ... heavy one they hope they pass it | |
| This way just might have to... | |
| ... trying to be nice... this time to... | |
| So classic, even my car it's historic | |
| Classic,.. the rap who's... | |
| I leave one drink.... | |
| Launched like... | |
| Bring the game flying over sea too worried | |
| ... | |
| Me and my... show up... | |
| Telling them suck up their asses | |
| About that bombastic, is digging in, in, pomp in that classic | |
| [Chorus:] | |
| Classic, open that classic | |
| Dig it that classic | |
| I'm dig it | |
| Classic | |
| ************************************************** | |
| This Ain’t No Lil’ Kid Rap (Remix)[Intro: Rah Digga] (Redman) | |
| (Yessirrrrr~!) | |
| Ev'rybody grown in here right?! (Rated M for mature bitches) | |
| I'm sayin we got the King and Queen of Brick City up in this piece | |
| (I'm grown as a mu'fucker!!!!) | |
| I be seein y'all talkin shit about people too old to rap (NAH!!!) | |
| Fuck outta here!!! What you mean too old to rap?! (Well let's get it then!) | |
| I'll bust all y'all asses, quit playin with me! | |
| Actin like you don't know! (Let's GO!) | |
| [Verse One: Rah Digga] | |
| SHIT!!!! Comin with that grown folk I ain't tryin to pick a fight | |
| But this ain't a Fisher Price Kidz Bop Nick At Nite | |
| This that Adult Swim rise by the gigabyte | |
| No disrespect but I don't take you for the spittin type | |
| You ain't got no ends in mi casa | |
| I can get smooth Frank Sinatra or spank them in patois | |
| Your girl Rah Rah I do this for a hobby | |
| Whole crowd waitin for my shit, porta-potties | |
| Them bars spill y'all ain't shocked as hell | |
| I tell these retailers y'all better stock the shelves | |
| These hoes be trippin on "Tightropes," not Janelle's | |
| "Make Music with my Mouth" like Biz or Rahzel | |
| Next to me y'all Mattel I'm Shells and Gazelles | |
| It's News Chopper 12 when I rock the bells | |
| Pass Doctor L commits to ass whoopin | |
| Get the belt on these scabs I catch their ass lookin | |
| [Chorus: Rah Digga] | |
| HUH! This ain't no lil' kid rap here | |
| UH UH! This ain't no lil' kid rap here | |
| SHIEEETTTTT!!! This that grown folks music | |
| Homey think he fresh tell tell that motherfucker deuces | |
| (STUPID) They say I'm what the game been missin | |
| Tell 'em rhymes do matter but they ain't listnenin (THEY AIN'T LISTENIN) | |
| Could spend a whole lifetime fishin | |
| Won't find another better on this write rhyme mission | |
| [Verse Two: Redman] | |
| YO, I hope no kids up in here, I'm exclusive | |
| That's why them hoes +Hawkin+ me like Yusef {*WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF*} | |
| Haters gon' hate, 'cause they chick on the rooster | |
| SHORTY! I think your car seat need a booster | |
| Drug abuser, Bricks, that's where the bass at | |
| Out of town niggas, pay tax A.S.A.P | |
| Verse for your Maybach, pockets on lypo | |
| YEAAAAAAH!!! "This is It" like Michael | |
| Drop E'RRY month like your me-nstrual cycle | |
| I'm wide open sayin, "Rappers, I don't like 'em" | |
| Tyson in his prime, Louis on Vuitton | |
| And you never work like the project intercom | |
| (NOOPE!) And that's why I'm a grown man, boy! | |
| 24 inch ashtray and Altoids | |
| NEVER gettin dressed for the Soul Train Awards | |
| I'm out there, next door to Elroy | |
| BEYOTCH~! | |
| [Chorus: Rah Digga] | |
| HUH! This ain't no lil' kid rap here | |
| UH UH! This ain't no lil' kid rap here | |
| SHHHHHH!!!! This that Brick City ish | |
| And we ain't into beef in all that little kiddie ish | |
| They say I'm what the game been missin | |
| Tell 'em rhymes do matter but they ain't listnenin (THEY AIN'T LISTENIN) | |
| Could spend a whole lifetime fishin | |
| Won't find another better on this write rhyme mission | |
| [Bridge: Rah Digga] | |
| They say I'm what the game been missin (I mean, they keep callin me!) | |
| They say I'm what the game been missin (I been chillin) | |
| They say I'm what the game been missin | |
| Rappers sayin they are the best, but they ain't spittin (Bloggin me...) | |
| They say I'm what the game been missin (Textin me...) | |
| They say I'm what the game been missin | |
| They say I'm what the game been missin | |
| Real lyricist eveytime my name is mentioned | |
| [Outro: Rah Digga] | |
| ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED!!!!!! | |
| [Redman] | |
| Gillahouse, Rah Digga, what's good?! | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Party Over Here*NO LYRICS YET | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Storm Comin’ (Remix)[Hook] | |
| It’s a storm comin’, it’s a, it’s a storm comin’ | |
| It’s a storm comin’ | |
| It’s a, it’s a storm comin’ | |
| What you gon’ do, who can you trust? | |
| When you feel the heat comin’, are you ready to bust? | |
| If we have to, if we have to, feel that heat comin’ | |
| If we have to, if we have to, feel that heat comin’ | |
| If we have to | |
| [Verse 1 – Jon Connor] | |
| Look, momma thanks for the goddess | |
| I’m normally private, I’m breakin’ my silence | |
| I’m strivin’ to break into the game and maintain and survive it | |
| Couldn’t nine to five it, early on I seen this was my calling | |
| Should I put my all in spitting bars in a one bedroom apartment | |
| Some days I didn’t eat, gave new meaning to the term starving artist | |
| Did it for the culture and stayed away from these vultures | |
| Fuck em, never change my content for profit, stop it | |
| Cause Logic would tell me as long as I’m healthy, my passion will never fail me | |
| What the fuck can you tell me? | |
| I’m never gon’ sell my soul cuz my truth is what made me wealthy | |
| I always picked it myself, in my mind I’ve been taking selfies | |
| Since I was twelve watching Belly, I barely went outside to play | |
| I was making tapes, getting ready | |
| I was watching Rhyme & Reason,I believed hip-hop could keep our people eating | |
| Feed em, even keep us breathing through the legacies we leave em | |
| I ain’t preachin’ but I’m hopin’ that I reach em, teach em | |
| You can change a life just with a chorus or a feature | |
| Went from whack rapper to backpacker to Aftermath’s next chapter | |
| Why y’all playin’ the game backwards? | |
| Trendy niggas is penny pinchers, y’all guinea pigs, gimme niggas | |
| Raw shit still in me, word to my indie niggas | |
| Yeah, I hope they feel me, nigga | |
| You hearin’ to kill my spirit, they have to kill me, nigga | |
| And when they hear my voice, I hope it uplift my niggas | |
| And tell my momma, Sarah Connor, let’s go get these niggas | |
| [Hook] | |
| [Verse 2 – Rah Digga] | |
| Always knew it would come a time I be callin’ my sons in rhyme | |
| It’s the rage against the machine, I tell em to jump in line | |
| Gettin’ on my Sarah Con, swinging like Barry Bonds | |
| Tryna wipe aside existence, I’m seeing various signs | |
| Went from fightin’ the power, ain’t no bitin’ allowed | |
| To popularity pose, how many likes in an hour? | |
| These uneducated critics, they be writin’ about us | |
| But they never determine shit, they just hatin’ my prowess | |
| Call us bitter and haters? History eradicated | |
| When we voicing our opinion on some shit that we created | |
| I heard I was racist, I just tighten my laces | |
| This supposed to be rappin’, thought righting wrongs is the basics | |
| So many documented cases of fraud cross the border | |
| I don’t yes man the people, I enforce the law | |
| All the streets [?] Fuck outta here! this total recall | |
| A storm comin’ for your bitch ass, here go the sequel | |
| I ain’t tryna be no star, just tryna teach y’all | |
| Power to the artists united, divided we fall | |
| Seeking, ye shall find, instead of feedin’ the mind | |
| OG’s goin’ crazy tryna keep up with the times | |
| I’m divine, you need design | |
| Three from the line and I ain’t even in my prime | |
| Never compromise the ethics, I leave it all behind | |
| When I feel the heat coming I’m squeezing both the 9s | |
| Like blaow! | |
| [Hook] | |
| (Outro) | |
| People ask me a question all the time | |
| What do you think of hip-hop then and now? | |
| Which is like really crazy, state of the, state of hip-hop | |
| It’s not, it can’t be answered in a discussion or an interview | |
| It’s a course study, there’s a lesson that probably has to take place | |
| Months at a time, those who know, know who | |
| I tell people like this | |
| You know my name, you know my face | |
| And everything else that goes with it | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Janis Joplin[Verse 1] | |
| I ain't your ordinary -- I'm that ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb | |
| Hate femcees, could give a fuck if we get along | |
| ************************************************** | |
| The Last Word (feat. Outsidaz)(feat. Outsidaz) | |
| (Rah Digga) | |
| This is a story... | |
| But not really a story | |
| It's just some freestyle shit | |
| My name is Rah Digga, and this here is Tha Outsidaz | |
| My niggas, tell em | |
| (Az-Izz) | |
| Since I been on television, girls been beggin me to swell the kitten | |
| Black or white, when the lights go off, I can't tell the difference | |
| Thought you'd impress me, well you didn't | |
| I got mad freestyles and hella-written | |
| The hottest fella spittin | |
| (Slang Ton) | |
| Never quitin, spittin more Outz than eleven innings | |
| Cheddar spendin, Slang Ton forever shittin | |
| You better listen | |
| (Young Zee) | |
| Yeah yeah, I tell a chicken "Zee hurtin skeezers" | |
| Fuck you wit the strength of like thirty Herculeses | |
| I want the cash nigga, fuck them scabs | |
| Stab once or twice then the pussy up for grabs | |
| (?) | |
| I puff the hash in front of your mother's dad | |
| Cut a fag | |
| (Slang Ton) | |
| And put your brother ash in a duffle bag | |
| (Pacewon) | |
| Yeah, ya'll fall in love wit that, Outsidaz comin | |
| Leave ya'll drunk like Olde English 800 | |
| Pacewon the fire-breathin Rah Rah dragon in the dungeon | |
| (Young Zee) | |
| American Werewolf from the Bricks, fuck London | |
| Chorus (Rah Digga) | |
| Set it off for my heads in Jerz | |
| Swear to God, weak rappers done struck my last nerve | |
| On wit the swerve, mad bags of herb | |
| My Outsida click gon' get the last word | |
| (Pacewon) | |
| Our attitude is like a bad sitcom, nuttin funny | |
| Slap you like you stole something from me | |
| Yo we got raps by the page like Bill Gates got money | |
| *Along w/Rah Digga* First week out we top twenty, grungy | |
| (Young Zee) | |
| Dummy Young Zee, come get your mouth injured | |
| Diss us, watch I ?pop willies? without ninjas | |
| (Axe) | |
| Run your ? wit ya for the Brick City niggas | |
| Shittin on ya like kitty litter | |
| (?) | |
| You could do fifty situps, and I don't give a fuck if he bigger | |
| I throw a right hook that could drop any nigga | |
| Ya'll rock jewels that's Truck like Chevy pickups, TWISTA | |
| (Pacewon) | |
| All I want is money and my dick sucked | |
| Chorus | |
| (Az-Izz) | |
| Az-Izz got bad nerves, rank matters | |
| While you serve steak platters I'ma die ballin like Hank Gathers | |
| (Axe) | |
| Axe get the dough like cake batter | |
| Pockets stay fatter | |
| The way you rhyme makes me think that you the gay rapper | |
| (Pacewon) | |
| Face slapper like Roy Jones, I throw a bolo | |
| Break your team up like Chris Shwartz and Joe Niccolo | |
| (Slang Ton) | |
| Rippin a beige Volvo, bumpin a Slang promo | |
| We sign our autographs, Spell It Out like K-Solo | |
| Tha Outz straight to disk, too hot for tape or phono | |
| (Rah Digga) | |
| Takin photos wit the black and gray Polo's | |
| Ruinin niggas lives like they K-Ci or JoJo | |
| (?Nawshis?) | |
| Outsidaz takin a loss, that's a no-no | |
| Chorus | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Solidified..that | |
| …pack that | |
| … | |
| Don’t even ..that, it’s …you’d better go and get that .. | |
| You even think you got a ..you got an ass back | |
| You write the legend tryin to … | |
| I like the new ..gipsy how I thought that | |
| You can’t hang up … | |
| You matter of fact …with your boss.. | |
| It’s going back mother f*cker… | |
| …pull it together like .. cuz I match that | |
| They’re wonna be the hardest … | |
| …some hot … smart thing …super professional … | |
| Chorus: | |
| Cuz right here is what you call right music, music | |
| For music, good music | |
| You know nigga you got that …you make choose it | |
| Exclusive, I’m gonna be to make you lose it | |
| So come to …ain't’ stop, we’re going … | |
| This is time … will never die | |
| Truth is eternal will never die, … | |
| This is one of the things that I ain’t sitting well | |
| … | |
| I’m sayin hip hop music and I ain’t .. | |
| See when they come is .. | |
| I’m like that ladies … | |
| You’d better say on my .. you can’t afford that | |
| Chorus: | |
| This right here is what you call right music, music | |
| For music, good music | |
| You know nigga you got that …choose it | |
| Exclusive, I’m gonna be and make you lose it | |
| So come to …ain't’ stop | |
| This is time … will never die | |
| Truth is eternal ….forever die, … | |
| Knock, knock, who is it, … | |
| …sixty , spend and, …miss me | |
| I didn’t miss ...in my mama eyes | |
| She said girl, don’t you know …we keep the hood | |
| …like a piece of mind | |
| He was born for the hip hop job | |
| Nobody getting close to the start | |
| ...putting on my …99 is smart | |
| ..I got plenty to …hoping to … | |
| …looking like extra ball … | |
| [Chorus:] | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Party & Bullshit (dirty edit)(Intro: Rah Digga) | |
| (A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it | |
| (A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it | |
| Shake it around shake it, shake it around shake it | |
| (A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it | |
| (A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it | |
| Shake it around shake it | |
| (Just Blaze!) Shake it around shake it | |
| (Verse 1: Rah Digga) | |
| We 'gon take this through the roof | |
| See me on the move checkin cats like who's who | |
| Fall through a little spot me and the whole gang | |
| Flirt with a couple cats but I don't say no names | |
| Here we go now, I'm like gypsy chicks | |
| See me cruisin until that my sixties wipped | |
| And we off to the races (Say what?!) | |
| Me and all my aces everywhere we go the same faces | |
| Wave yo' hands, Jersey clan | |
| Drink a little somethin at the MGM Grand | |
| Mami fly, watch your man | |
| Me takin loses I be damn | |
| What's the crew name (Flipmode) off the chain (Big dogs) | |
| And we stay in the flossin game | |
| See me on the front line like G.I. Jane | |
| Old girl get it locked shhh I ain't playin | |
| (Chorus) | |
| Everybody on the floor I tell ya all | |
| And if ya don't do nothin but play the wall | |
| Come on left side (Left side) right side (Right side) | |
| Front to back come on everybody | |
| We 'gon party and bullshit and party and bullshit | |
| And party and bullshit and party and bullshit | |
| (Verse 2: Rah Digga) | |
| I beat that bitch with a bat (Say what?!) | |
| I beat that bitch with a bat (Say what?!) | |
| Get stank I'm a flip to a New York Yank | |
| Love is love ma leave it at that | |
| You see where I'm at movie star like Lucy Liu | |
| Keepin up with me how souped is you?! | |
| Boy state your purpose get on down | |
| Come on work this work this work this (Owww!!!!) | |
| Pullin up to my bumper baby | |
| Body language somethin crazy | |
| Gettin hot in herre this is a party or what | |
| Only been here a minute cats startin it up | |
| Got trees got licks of the yack (Say what?!) | |
| Got trees got licks of the yack (Say what?!) | |
| Come one come all we 'gon have a ball | |
| Bitch mob got seats in the back (Ho!!!!) | |
| (Chorus: Rah Digga) | |
| Everybody on the floor I tell ya all | |
| And if ya don't do nothin but play the wall | |
| Come on left side (Left side) right side (Right side) | |
| Front to back come on everybody | |
| We 'gon party and bullshit and party and bullshit | |
| And party and bullshit and party and bullshit | |
| (Bridge: Rah Digga) + (Just Blaze) | |
| Shake it around shake it, shake it around shake it | |
| Shake it around shake it | |
| (Just Blaze!) Shake it around shake it | |
| (Verse 3: Rah Digga) | |
| It's time for the percolator, Dj's 'gon rock the fader | |
| Come on drop it like a hot potato | |
| Everybody let's percolator (Come on!) | |
| Fellas in the club lookin righteous | |
| With a tight chest I think I might just | |
| Hit 'em with a little Biggie one on one | |
| Talkin 'bout he stops drinkin now that ain't no fun | |
| Yeah I'm on that, a little cognac | |
| In the system watch mami straight throw it back | |
| Come on shake it around bounce it around break it on down | |
| Digga Digga is crazy right now | |
| (Chorus: Rah Digga) | |
| Everybody on the floor I tell ya all | |
| And if ya don't do nothin but play the wall | |
| Come on left side (Left side) right side (Right side) | |
| Front to back come on everybody | |
| We 'gon party and bullshit and party and bullshit | |
| And party and bullshit and party and bullshit | |
| (Outro: Just Blaze) + (Rah Digga) | |
| To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) | |
| To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) | |
| In the bricks y'all in the bricks (Where we at?) | |
| In the bricks y'all in the bricks (Where we at?) | |
| To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) | |
| To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Break fool - lp original versionYeah | |
| Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha | |
| Rah Digga, Dirty Harriet, Yall | |
| AAAAHHHH Shit | |
| Bricks | |
| See me on the block with tha chromed out drop | |
| Lambskin head to toe bustin out my halter top | |
| 'Tight' rippin through tha hood | |
| Blow up the whole spot | |
| With tha system | |
| TV | |
| ?Foremon? | |
| EASY!! | |
| Working the scene on the quest for lime green | |
| Steady puffin on brown just for the time being | |
| Battle raps on cock I get all up in your ear | |
| Trying to get a record deal, battling somebody famous | |
| Pounds to my girls as we slide up in the dance bar | |
| Niggas in my grill like they really got a chance | |
| Chicken heads trying to front like they not Digga fans | |
| Say fuck yall!! | |
| Groupies | |
| Do Me | |
| TRULY | |
| Shittin on MC's, what I do for a living | |
| Tight takin over spots like my name was Robin Givins | |
| Anybody got a beat, then they better keep it hittin | |
| Retailers put your fit in for the hottest chick spittin | |
| [Hook] | |
| This for my niggas and bitches makin moves | |
| By day you play it cool, by night you break fool | |
| Say flood it, whip it, smoke it, trick it | |
| Flood it, whip it, smoke it, trick it | |
| This for my niggas and bitches makin moves | |
| By day you play it cool, by night you break fool | |
| Say flood it up | |
| FLOOD IT UP | |
| Whip it up | |
| WHIP IT UP | |
| Smoke it up | |
| SMOKE IT UP | |
| Trick it up | |
| TRICK IT UP | |
| VIP area | |
| Certain heads get in | |
| Cats without wristbands steady trying to slip in | |
| Weed on delivery, everybody chip in | |
| Dump it, roll it, spark it, smoke it | |
| Ladies where you at say 'Do you queen?' | |
| Gotta krib, gotta whip, high heels, and tight jeans | |
| My straight thug bitches rock Tims and tattoos | |
| After one or two drinks he ready to ACT FOOL!! | |
| Now, this for my real live underground cats | |
| Who be checkin for the rhymes | |
| Not checkin for the track | |
| Take away all the hype and a nigga straight wack | |
| Say fuck dat!! | |
| FUCK DAT!! | |
| Fuck Dat!! | |
| FUCK DAT!! | |
| My squad hold it down passin bars, passin mics | |
| Make emcees stay at home with water and flashlights | |
| Ya motherfuckas crazy telling 'Git Da Git' | |
| Trying to see my clique, ain't even getting past the chick | |
| [Hook] | |
| For those who want to whip it | |
| For those who want to flood it | |
| For those who want to buy it | |
| For those who want to dub it | |
| For those who want the sexy | |
| For those who want the rugged | |
| Say Digga | |
| DIGGA | |
| Hardcore | |
| SLUGGERS | |
| Comin up fast while you're fallin even faster | |
| A blitz on a Jack handling my money matters | |
| For those who want to smoke it | |
| For those who want to trick it | |
| For those who want to hate me | |
| Niggas know where they can stick it | |
| [Hook] 2x | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Party & Bullshit (a cappella)(Intro: Rah Digga) | |
| (A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it | |
| (A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it | |
| Shake it around shake it, shake it around shake it | |
| (A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it | |
| (A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it | |
| Shake it around shake it | |
| (Just Blaze!) Shake it around shake it | |
| (Verse 1: Rah Digga) | |
| We 'gon take this through the roof | |
| See me on the move checkin cats like who's who | |
| Fall through a little spot me and the whole gang | |
| Flirt with a couple cats but I don't say no names | |
| Here we go now, I'm like gypsy chicks | |
| See me cruisin until that my sixties wipped | |
| And we off to the races (Say what?!) | |
| Me and all my aces everywhere we go the same faces | |
| Wave yo' hands, Jersey clan | |
| Drink a little somethin at the MGM Grand | |
| Mami fly, watch your man | |
| Me takin loses I be damn | |
| What's the crew name (Flipmode) off the chain (Big dogs) | |
| And we stay in the flossin game | |
| See me on the front line like G.I. Jane | |
| Old girl get it locked shhh I ain't playin | |
| (Chorus) | |
| Everybody on the floor I tell ya all | |
| And if ya don't do nothin but play the wall | |
| Come on left side (Left side) right side (Right side) | |
| Front to back come on everybody | |
| We 'gon party and bullshit and party and bullshit | |
| And party and bullshit and party and bullshit | |
| (Verse 2: Rah Digga) | |
| I beat that bitch with a bat (Say what?!) | |
| I beat that bitch with a bat (Say what?!) | |
| Get stank I'm a flip to a New York Yank | |
| Love is love ma leave it at that | |
| You see where I'm at movie star like Lucy Liu | |
| Keepin up with me how souped is you?! | |
| Boy state your purpose get on down | |
| Come on work this work this work this (Owww!!!!) | |
| Pullin up to my bumper baby | |
| Body language somethin crazy | |
| Gettin hot in herre this is a party or what | |
| Only been here a minute cats startin it up | |
| Got trees got licks of the yack (Say what?!) | |
| Got trees got licks of the yack (Say what?!) | |
| Come one come all we 'gon have a ball | |
| Bitch mob got seats in the back (Ho!!!!) | |
| (Chorus: Rah Digga) | |
| Everybody on the floor I tell ya all | |
| And if ya don't do nothin but play the wall | |
| Come on left side (Left side) right side (Right side) | |
| Front to back come on everybody | |
| We 'gon party and bullshit and party and bullshit | |
| And party and bullshit and party and bullshit | |
| (Bridge: Rah Digga) + (Just Blaze) | |
| Shake it around shake it, shake it around shake it | |
| Shake it around shake it | |
| (Just Blaze!) Shake it around shake it | |
| (Verse 3: Rah Digga) | |
| It's time for the percolator, Dj's 'gon rock the fader | |
| Come on drop it like a hot potato | |
| Everybody let's percolator (Come on!) | |
| Fellas in the club lookin righteous | |
| With a tight chest I think I might just | |
| Hit 'em with a little Biggie one on one | |
| Talkin 'bout he stops drinkin now that ain't no fun | |
| Yeah I'm on that, a little cognac | |
| In the system watch mami straight throw it back | |
| Come on shake it around bounce it around break it on down | |
| Digga Digga is crazy right now | |
| (Chorus: Rah Digga) | |
| Everybody on the floor I tell ya all | |
| And if ya don't do nothin but play the wall | |
| Come on left side (Left side) right side (Right side) | |
| Front to back come on everybody | |
| We 'gon party and bullshit and party and bullshit | |
| And party and bullshit and party and bullshit | |
| (Outro: Just Blaze) + (Rah Digga) | |
| To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) | |
| To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) | |
| In the bricks y'all in the bricks (Where we at?) | |
| In the bricks y'all in the bricks (Where we at?) | |
| To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) | |
| To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) | |
| ************************************************** | |
| Party & Bullshit (alternate clean edit)(Intro: Rah Digga) | |
| (A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it | |
| (A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it | |
| Shake it around shake it, shake it around shake it | |
| (A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it | |
| (A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it | |
| Shake it around shake it | |
| (Just Blaze!) Shake it around shake it | |
| (Verse 1: Rah Digga) | |
| We 'gon take this through the roof | |
| See me on the move checkin cats like who's who | |
| Fall through a little spot me and the whole gang | |
| Flirt with a couple cats but I don't say no names | |
| Here we go now, I'm like gypsy chicks | |
| See me cruisin until that my sixties wipped | |
| And we off to the races (Say what?!) | |
| Me and all my aces everywhere we go the same faces | |
| Wave yo' hands, Jersey clan | |
| Drink a little somethin at the MGM Grand | |
| Mami fly, watch your man | |
| Me takin loses I be damn | |
| What's the crew name (Flipmode) off the chain (Big dogs) | |
| And we stay in the flossin game | |
| See me on the front line like G.I. Jane | |
| Old girl get it locked shhh I ain't playin | |
| (Chorus) | |
| Everybody on the floor I tell ya all | |
| And if ya don't do nothin but play the wall | |
| Come on left side (Left side) right side (Right side) | |
| Front to back come on everybody | |
| We 'gon party and bullshit and party and bullshit | |
| And party and bullshit and party and bullshit | |
| (Verse 2: Rah Digga) | |
| I beat that bitch with a bat (Say what?!) | |
| I beat that bitch with a bat (Say what?!) | |
| Get stank I'm a flip to a New York Yank | |
| Love is love ma leave it at that | |
| You see where I'm at movie star like Lucy Liu | |
| Keepin up with me how souped is you?! | |
| Boy state your purpose get on down | |
| Come on work this work this work this (Owww!!!!) | |
| Pullin up to my bumper baby | |
| Body language somethin crazy | |
| Gettin hot in herre this is a party or what | |
| Only been here a minute cats startin it up | |
| Got trees got licks of the yack (Say what?!) | |
| Got trees got licks of the yack (Say what?!) | |
| Come one come all we 'gon have a ball | |
| Bitch mob got seats in the back (Ho!!!!) | |
| (Chorus: Rah Digga) | |
| Everybody on the floor I tell ya all | |
| And if ya don't do nothin but play the wall | |
| Come on left side (Left side) right side (Right side) | |
| Front to back come on everybody | |
| We 'gon party and bullshit and party and bullshit | |
| And party and bullshit and party and bullshit | |
| (Bridge: Rah Digga) + (Just Blaze) | |
| Shake it around shake it, shake it around shake it | |
| Shake it around shake it | |
| (Just Blaze!) Shake it around shake it | |
| (Verse 3: Rah Digga) | |
| It's time for the percolator, Dj's 'gon rock the fader | |
| Come on drop it like a hot potato | |
| Everybody let's percolator (Come on!) | |
| Fellas in the club lookin righteous | |
| With a tight chest I think I might just | |
| Hit 'em with a little Biggie one on one | |
| Talkin 'bout he stops drinkin now that ain't no fun | |
| Yeah I'm on that, a little cognac | |
| In the system watch mami straight throw it back | |
| Come on shake it around bounce it around break it on down | |
| Digga Digga is crazy right now | |
| (Chorus: Rah Digga) | |
| Everybody on the floor I tell ya all | |
| And if ya don't do nothin but play the wall | |
| Come on left side (Left side) right side (Right side) | |
| Front to back come on everybody | |
| We 'gon party and bullshit and party and bullshit | |
| And party and bullshit and party and bullshit | |
| (Outro: Just Blaze) + (Rah Digga) | |
| To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) | |
| To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) | |
| In the bricks y'all in the bricks (Where we at?) | |
| In the bricks y'all in the bricks (Where we at?) | |
| To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) | |
| To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) | |
| ************************************************** | |
| So Cool (feat. Carl Thomas)(feat. Carl Thomas) | |
| (That cool shit) | |
| Call me conductor, I lead the way for ya | |
| Underground vibe, status self-employed | |
| R-A-H aka Harriet Thugman | |
| Carry out the legacy with seed and husband | |
| Now off with the head thangy | |
| Watch flip to a genie | |
| And I be a Mac like Beanie | |
| Out the bottle, I turn thug super model | |
| With rhymes that'll make ya have to settle for Movado | |
| The dirtiest getting all the way live | |
| Steady tappin' my shit, try-na eat while I drive | |
| Speeding to a function to play the little actress | |
| Three hours late and don't even know the address | |
| Madness with the ill sexy flow | |
| And the label spendin' g's not tryin' to let me go | |
| Rockin' on the stage after me, YOU FOOL! | |
| Cause I am so cool | |
| [Carl Thomas](Rah Digga) | |
| Cause she's so cool, yeah oh | |
| Money baby can't you see | |
| (Can't you see, can't you see) | |
| She's so cool | |
| And you can't be as fly as she | |
| (Never be as fly as me) | |
| [Rah Digga] | |
| I aim high beat date in December | |
| A million motherfuckers whose face I don't remember | |
| Next to fall with the b-girl ball | |
| Tight gear little cousins | |
| The store from the mall | |
| Rockin' hardcore to some R&B shit | |
| Kickin' rhymes for the round-the-way heads | |
| That I'm at peace with | |
| Love the ice rock silver as a preference | |
| Taking writer's credit so offer a suggestion | |
| So bust dem heads who ain't real wit it | |
| Who don't want shit in life and can't deal with it | |
| I see you | |
| Frontin' like you on my side | |
| Switch sides thanks for the ride bitch | |
| See me on the cover, (Say what?) strike a pose | |
| Just know after that I'm making off with the clothes | |
| Underground rule for real, so what's the haps? | |
| Take it back like kids who fight in playing caps | |
| Or Jacks ‘N' Ball, freestyle off the wall | |
| Tell em don't forget the stones when they make the Digga dome | |
| Do away with styling you ain't even found yet | |
| Blow the mic out and ain't nothing but a sound check | |
| Writing rhymes like you wish you could | |
| Tight breaking em down on behalf of sisterhood | |
| Spittin' every time use my looks as a tool | |
| Cause I am so cool | |
| [Carl Thomas](Rah Digga) | |
| Cause she's so cool | |
| Money baby can't you see | |
| (Can't you see, can't you see) | |
| She's so cool | |
| And you can't be as fly as she | |
| (Never be as fly as me) | |
| Cool | |
| Money baby can't you see | |
| (Can't you see, can't you see) | |
| She's so cool | |
| And you can't be as fly as she | |
| (Never be as fly as me) | |
| She's so, so | |
| You can't be as fly as she, oh |